Archive for April 9th, 2005


April 9, 2005

My last entry reminded me to ask Dr. S., my GP why my own history of sexual and physical abuse is rarely mentioned in my notes. Could that possibly be because…they’d have to spend (gasp) money to undo the damage.

I say I don’t need them, I say they can take their ‘treatment’ and shove it up any orifice of their choice but it still hurts that they feel I am somehow unworthy of it. (Whereas our Friendly Neighbourhood Psychopath – Andy Lee – has been permitted to manipulate the system for years and is allocated unlimited resources.)

Ben – the Best Teddy Bear in the whole world

April 9, 2005

Ben – the Best Teddy Bear in the whole world
Originally uploaded by louisemills.


April 9, 2005

Why do members of internet fora suffer from cyclical amnesia?

Del Amitri Nothing Ever Happens lyrics

Post office clerks put up signs saying position closed
And secretaries turn off typewriters and put on their coats
Janitors padlock the gates
For security guards to patrol
And bachelors phone up their friends for a drink
While the married ones turn on a chat show

And they’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

Gentlemen time please, you know we can’t serve anymore
Now the traffic lights change to stop, when there’s nothing to go
And by five o’clock everything’s dead
And every third car is a cab
And ignorant people sleep in their beds
Like the doped white mice in the college lab

Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song
And we all sing along like before

And we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

Telephone exchanges click while there’s nobody there
The Martians could land in the carpark and no one would care
Close-circuit cameras in department stores shoot the same video every day
And the stars of these films neither die nor get killed
Just survive constant action replay

Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song
And we all sing along like before

And we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

Bill hoardings advertise products that nobody needs
While angry from Manchester writes to complain about
All the repeats on T.V.
And computer terminals report some gains
On the values of copper and tin
While American businessmen snap up Van Goghs
For the price of a hospital wing

Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song
And we all sing along like before
Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
They’ll burn down the synagogues at six o’clock
And we’ll all go along like before

And we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

Distressing Episode of Panorama

April 9, 2005

I videoed an episode of Panorama recently and have just finished watching it. It chronicled the activities of a so-called philanthropist in the ’80s. This was a man from a relatively humble background who became a millionaire and helped to transform Plymouth’s run-down city-centre market into a thriving shopping centre. He was lauded in the local press and adored by the town’s residents. But all was not as it seemed for this man was a paedophile. He gave young boys part-time jobs in the shopping centre. He appeared to be acting as their mentor but was, in fact, using them for his ‘sexual pleasure’. He was heavily involved in a paedophile ring.

Many of the boys he abused grew up to become violent criminals. It was a judge (individuals who are often dismissed for their harsh and contemptuous attitude towards the ‘dregs of society’) who made the connection. He noticed that the victims of this Plymouth Philanthropist were appearing before him repeatedly. Victims turned perpetrators.

The question is this: Is their childhood sexual abuse an excuse for their present actions? But then I must ask myself if my past excuses my current behaviour. No, I don’t hurt others. I hurt myself. I starve myself, I binge, I purge, I overdose. I don’t cut – my scars are within. Is there a fundamental difference in the way in which men and women respond to the aftermath of childhood sexual abuse? The former turning his pain outwards and the latter turning her pain inwards. (Something many people find hard to understand, as though harming others is somehow more acceptable than harming oneself- a view I find quite bizarre). But does being victimised give one the right to victimise others in one’s turn?

Undoubtedly though a hideous injustice has been perpetrated upon these men and then perpetuated by the judicial system. The police were aware of what the ‘Philanthropist of Plymouth’ was doing but didn’t have the resources to investigate the case thoroughly when it was initially brought to their attention, thus giving the Plymouth Philanthropist and his paedophile ring the chance to abuse more boys. As a result these boys grew up to become criminals (society didn’t give a damn about them, so why should they give a damn about it?). And the final injustice is that they cannot claim criminal injuries compensation because of their criminal records. The system helped create them and then it tossed them away. Even the judge interviewed in the documentary acknowledges this.

And, as always, no one is held accountable.


April 9, 2005

Originally uploaded by rielouise.

Scrawling to pass the time.


April 9, 2005

I am transparent
Like the paper people
Made out of tracing paper
Cut out by the careless
Hands of small children
There is no blood, no bone,
In me and others are able to see
My ephemerality
I am pale and wan
Like a bare tree
In the last days of winter
Set against the luminescence
Of the other guests at the
Christmas ball

Phone Call

April 9, 2005

After a tres stressful week involving members of a certain forum which shall (for the time being) remain nameless I received a ‘phone call from Aaron (soon to be added to that promised Cast section. I met Aaron at a Christian student group way back in the late ’90s. He’s been a faithful friend ever since. I was the first person he came out to, even though my ‘gaydar’ had detected that long ago. He too had read about the fire in the local paper and wondered ‘if it had anything to do with me’. Oddly enough I found that question rather amusing. He was also worried about my reaction to the pope’s death.

There is one bone of contention between us though – his weight. He suffers from the little recognised eating disorder – Binge Eating Disorder. Once, in the throes of purging anorexia, I wrote in my diary: ‘Anorectics are pitied, binge eaters are scorned and bulimics are simply ignored.’ I have suffered from all three of those disorders. I do not scorn Aaron. I am genuinely concerned about him. It’s as though he is insisting upon committing slow suicide – by eating himself to death and resisting any help offered to him. He has compromised his system to such an extent that he is susceptible to every infection going around. And I am supposed to stand back and watch. Maybe it’s time for what psychologists call ‘tough love’ . Having an addiction does not absolve a person of taking responsibility for their own health.

Or maybe I’m the pot and he’s the kettle.

Dying Daffodil

April 9, 2005

Dying Daffodil
Originally uploaded by Bella the Cat.

Because why should those in full bloom get all the attention and admiration.

I Came

April 9, 2005

I came

But was driven away

By their hostility


For the elite is enmeshed

By a glittering cage that is

Impossible to penetrate


A white column,

A woman, I think

She watches me

With a kind of

Vague envy


‘Your words are ridiculous

And meaningless,’

She spits.

We don’t want to eat your poison’.


The rain

Runs down my body

And cools my skin

Someday, I’m sure,

Someone will take me in.

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