Would you give him one? The Great Game.

Hi again,

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I have just realised that there is no sound of traffic outside, so that must mean that I have got the day wrong again and it must be Sunday.

I will go and check.

Yes, all the shops are shut and I found Friday’s paper.

My husband buys The Times every day except Saturday, because he says it is too expensive on a Saturday, and The Sunday Times just repeats of all the same stuff anyway.

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He has made a ritual of doing the Sudoku for hours every day as he believes it keeps his brain sharp.

It probably does but it does not help his social life and it is boring for me,

I often ask him something, only to  find my questions directed to two glassy eyes, behind which is a brain grappling with maths computations, and he fires terse replies to questions which he will later on deny ever having been asked.

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Should he ever be found, choked to death on a future issue of The Times, then  I fully intend to present this post as proof that I am not guilty on the grounds of previous mental cruelty.

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Actually, I am thoroughly enjoying this blogging business now.

It is better than talking to  Old Glass Eyes.

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I was beginning to suspect that he had found some clever way of nodding off,with his eyes wide open, whenever I decided to sit down and have a chat with him to keep our relationship fresh.

It became very obvious that he does do something very devious, because he later seems to have no knowledge of any of the things I thought we had been discussing.

Days later, when I refer back to something I thought we had discussed in depth, I find that his memory is completely blank, and if I tell him he should remember all about it, he gets ratty and won’t talk to me anymore because I am getting hysterical, and shouting at him.

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You cannot win really, and life is too short to have arguments.

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It is nice to post stuff up on my blog, as someone out there might be interested enough to read my ramblings.

At least the odds are better than they are at home, where I can be sure that nobody is.

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Of course I  exaggerate, horribly, but who cares. It is a bit like talking to my friends at home.

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Talking about my friends.

I invented a good game that we play when we go out for a meal together. It is called ‘Would you give him one?’

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This came about after I sat listening to a group of girls sitting behind me, when I was on a bus, on the way over to visit my mother.

They had obviously been out together the night before, in a part of the town where there are lots of pubs and nightclubs in close proximity.

They were talking about the guys they had met on their pub crawl, and which ones they had found attractive enough.

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One girl was teased because she had been with a guy and then disappeared for a while.

All the others started shrieking “Did you give him one then, did you give him one.” Closely followed by “Go on, you did didn’t you.  Tell the truth.” She eventually started laughing and squealed “So what if I did.  It’s none of your business is it””

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This barrage continued as we passed from bus stop to bus stop.

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By the time they eventually disembarked, gold handbags, chipped nail varnish and chewing gum, the interrogations had resulted in the girl having confessed to giving one to three different men on that same memorable night.

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AND SO THE GREAT GAME WAS BORN.

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We have great fun discussing some guy or other, often a film star such as Brad Pitt, and asking, “Yes, but would you give him one ?”

The results can be very surprising sometimes.

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While I am on that subject.  Have you seen Brad Pitt in Kalifornia.

Made many years ago and starring Juliette Lewis and Kathy Larson. He was really scary in that.
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And no, I would not give Brad Pit one because I do not like his nostrils

That is probably a lie.

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Good Morning Sunshine

Good Morning Darlings,

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What a beautiful Monday morning it is today after fierce rain for most of the weekend.

I love it when the sky is blue and gleaming from one side to the other.

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When I went down to the living room and faced yesterday’s devastation, I was suddenly brought back to earth by the knowledge that the job was still to be finished, but I don’t really care because everything passes and sometime this week, month or year,  it will be done.

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Morning After

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I well remember Mondays, years ago when I was young.

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I had just left Grammar School and my father expected me to get a job, and pay board, as soon as possible.

I, of course, was drunk with the perceived pleasures of being free from the education system, and far too silly to ask myself what would follow, or to have a plan for my future.

After a few months my father told me that I had a choice between becoming a nurse or applying to work at the Ministry Of Pensions.

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Well, being between a rock and a hard place, as I had no wish to be either, I eventually opted for the Ministry, purely on the grounds that it should not involve too many bedpans and I would not accidentally kill somebody.

What a bloody awful place it turned out to be.

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I always think that if I go to Hell  it will be a forever version of that place.  I will sit at my desk for all eternity with pension forms and shuttles arriving on the hour, day after day, after day, after day.

With no end, ever.

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It got to be so soul destroying for me that I used up all of my holidays just having days off when I felt totally depressed and suicidal at the thought of going in to work.

In the end I had no holidays left, so I resorted to saying that I had toothache and needed to go to the Dentists urgently

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What a cunning plan.

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I ended up getting two perfectly good back teeth removed with that daft idea, and to add insult to injury, one dentist pulled out a tooth and gave me an awful gum infection that left my gums seeping blood and I had to go back to him for antibiotics.

I never even got any  extra time off work!

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Take warning that if there is ever a National Emergency, and you all come to me to solve it, the solution will most probably include leaving most ofthe people of the UK  without any teeth.

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Can you imagine the humiliation a young girl would feel when she wants a wee and she has to go to the guy who is sitting at a big desk in the middle of the space, surrounded by all our less important desks, ringed around  like a defensive circling of wagons in a ‘Cowboys and Indians’ film, and ask him if she can ‘go to the cloakroom please?’

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He would look at his watch and nod seriously before saying,”Don’t be too long though.”  Arsehole.

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I hope that he has his reward now….guess where?….and doing what?…and for how long?

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Never mind though.

These days I love Mondays, and all I can say to any of you who are still having to go out to work, is that I am glad it is you and not me.

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Have a good day and enjoy all the nice bits of it.

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Me

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When will it ever end.

Hi,

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Today has been a dusty day here in my house, because my husband has been perched up a ladder digging out huge holes in the chimney breast, so that he can install a big, ‘fuck off, wall mounted television.

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Oh my, if only he got on with the backlog of jobs waiting to be done for years with such alacrity and enthusiasm.

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Unfortunately the reason that I am sitting here, covered with plaster bits, is so that he can play Call Of Duty 4 on his X box until his hands fall off.

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Men, don’t you just love them.

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Sweet dreams.

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It is not only men who become obsessed with these games though.

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My Prayer

Hi,

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Today I am posting a prayer that I composed many years ago, because I wanted something that was meaningful to me.

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I love The Lord’s Prayer, but I  did not have anything other than that, which I enjoyed as much.

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Oh no, that’s not correct, I do also love Psalm 23:4, which thrills me when I hear it said, and lastly the beautiful Song Of Solomon CH.4, an amazing read.

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Anyway, when I began healing in the mid 90’s, I wanted a short prayer that covered my needs and I wrote this one.

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Sometime I will write about how I came to know that prayer works and is heard,

MY PRAYER

Lord,

Help us walk willingly upon the pathways that have been chosen for us,

Offering love, help and a healing touch.

Help us to grow into a perfect balance of mind, body, and spirit.

Help us be all that we can be,

All that we should be,

And all that you would wish us to be.

We ask this, knowing we are safe in your hands

And secure in your love.

Amen.

Cataracts.

Hi,

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Yesterday I went to town for my yearly eye test, which is now free because I am over 60.

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Last year the Optician used some kind of new camera that takes a photograph of the insides of your eyes, in order to check for all kinds of disease and degeneration.

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You are only told the results if you are willing to pay a fee of £10,( because this is not covered by the N.H.S.), and then the Optician will examine theresulting picture and describe the condition of your eyes with you.This result is then stored as a reference for use when the following year’s examination takes place.

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You are helped to decide to pay for this, by being asked to read a handout  containing horrible pictures of eye diseases with very scary names, which you are given to look at while waiting for your appointment.

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You find that your purse strings loosen much more easily after reading it.
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By the way, I think that this is a stupid, money saving, penny pinching exercise because it is obviously better to catch a disease early, and treat itat that point, instead of leaving it until it is causing worse health problems which need more urgent treatment

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Or even more tragically. The person could well end up with impaired sight or even be blind.

A situation which is a nightmare for them and which then creates a need for ongoing care, to be paid for out of dwindling funds.

Stupid shortsighted thinking.  DUH!!

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Anyway, I digress somewhat.

I myself am extremely shortsighted and cannot see a bat without my glasses.

Not that I would want to see one closely with my glasses on of course!

More digressing. Get on with it Jaksie.

OK.
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Well, last year I had the eyeball pictures taken and examined, only to be told that my blood vessels were a bit curly instead of straight, and that it could be a sign of high blood pressure.

Also that there were signs of cataracts forming in both eyes.

It would appear that there was yellowing, which is how they begin.

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Yesterday after all the usual testing we got to the screening of the optical classic  ‘Are You Going Blind Yet’,  starring our reluctant heroine…Jaksie herself.

After the short but scary matinee I got the good news.

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The curly blood vessels were exactly the same as they were last year, meaning that I was born with that particular deviation from the norm.

My reply was that it was not fair to be given that particular gift because I would much rather have been given the talent to play the piano very well.

Then, I was quickly slipped the bad news. My eyes were less good.  A bit more yellow, but no furring or blurring to the fibres as yet.

We discussed the future actions that could be taken.

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I would have enjoyed hearing about it all, if it had been about someone else, and not about me.

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In the old days people would be left a long time before being offered surgery, even to the point of being unable to see much, but now the problem is dealt with much more quickly

Obviously paid for with all the £10 charges for the eyeball pictures!!!!!

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Although there have been different treatments available for the correction of shortsightedness available for many years now, I have never been too tempted to do it, because I am an artist and my vanity is less strong than my need to see things properly.

Unfortunately the axis of my particular world has shifted now.

If I do nothing then I will not be able to see eventually, so doing nothing is not an option for me.

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I was told that some people have found that their eyesight has improved after a cataract operation, compared to their pre-cataract eyesight.

I was told that the eye surgeon can use a process whereby a new lens is inserted through a small incision to replace the cataract, and that this can be done in such a way as to improve the sight with the same type of results as Lasik.

I know about Lasik, because my eldest son’s beautiful new Fiance had eyesight worse than mine, and she had Lasik treatment before Xmas.

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She and my son researched things most thoroughly and found a wonderful doctor in Central London, who has invented and patented a lot of cuttingedge equipment, so that he can perform amazing work
She had previously been told that,with eyesight so poor that  she was practically blind without her specs, it would be impossible to treat her.

She was told to get used to her contact lenses because that was the best she could ever expect.

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This guy did a great many tests on her eyes and found that the reason she had trouble with her lenses was because she was allergic to the cleansing solutions used.

He also found that she naturally has a very thin covering to her eyes, and  said that this meant she only had one bite at the cherry.

Usually eyes change slightly as they settle after the Lasik, and this can be adjusted, if necessary, a year or so later during a second operation.

But this option would not be a possibility for her, because of that thinness.

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Anyway, he did the operation, about 7 or 8 months ago, and she now has 20/20 vision, and she is still full of wonder at what excellent vision she has.

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As for me I am looking on the bright side. If I have to have cataracts removed then I shall see if I can use that opportunity to get my eyes fixed.

Always a silver lining.

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LoL

PS. I will find out and post up the details about the amazing eye doctor for you at some later date if I can work out how to insert stuff etc.

.

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I killed the dog

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Hello,

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Doing this is weird.

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It is much easier to speak to people face to face.You can interact, be funny, have a laugh

It is easy and entirely natural and I know how to do it without a single thought.

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But this thing!

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It is hard and tricky and this bloody computer seems to be deliberately mocking me on a regular basis. I end up in a bloody mood, and the whole thing gets me really,really arsey,

In fact, the more you try to do, it the arsier you get.

You have less and less fun, get grumpier and grumpier and end up bloody well writing snotty letters to the Guardian.

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A friend of mine went the same way a few years ago.

She bought some sort of game, where she had to create people and houses, and go online every day to look after them and stuff like that.

It got so spooky eventually.

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I would go over to her house for a coffee and ask, “How has your day gone so far then?

The reply would be, “Oh, I drowned four people this morning.”

“What do you mean, “You drowned four people?”

“Well, I got sick of them so I killed them off.”

“What on earth are you talking about, you mad bitch?”

It was her bloody new game!

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Or I would ask her what she had been doing that day and I would be solemnly informed that she had killed a dog.

“What on earth do you mean. Who’s dog have you killed?

“Oh, the one I created in my game. I starved it to death. I got sick of looking after it.”

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“Oh don’t be so bloody silly woman.  You have never had a dog in your whole life.  IT IS NOT BLOODY REAL!”

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That is what happens.

People are creating their own friends and killing them off when they get annoying.

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Having said that, I did grow my own friends, but in the correct organic way.

It is only for the most patient amongst us though, because it takes a whole nine months and then you must wait for them to ripen.

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Have fun.

Sudden realization

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HI,

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I have just realised that if everyone else my age is as much a Luddite as me then none of them will be able to read anything I write anyway ..

Oh dear,

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J

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Email to my son

Added by the son in question:

“Hello darling boy,

Well, I am sorry to tell you that I have lived down to your expectations and totally ruined all of your work in setting up my Jaksie site yesterday.

I posted a test blog thingy and lost the front page altogether. I tried for hours but it has gone,gone,gone. I wrote myself another blog thing to work off my total frustration and then gave up at about three in the morning.

Dad was asleep on the settee so I woke him up eventually and asked him but he did not know what was wrong either. Obviously I have cleverly managed to ruin everything.

i BEGAN BY WRITING A TEXT IN THE LITTLE BOX WHICH I THEN SAVED BY PRESSING THE APPROPRIATE BUTTON. Shit,why does it start doing that.

To continue.

I then had the completed text saved into a bigger box to the left and corrected some creative spelling. So far so good.At this point the original box that I saved the text from was  of course empty.

Truly inspired,I then hit the pretty blue ‘publish’ button under the aforesaid little box and cunningly wiped out, hid, or somehow managed to beam the whole  blog page straight up to Scottie and now there is nothing there at all..

What can I say. Mea Culpa. But I am your MOTHER and you should not reprimand me. Just be grateful that I did not include my technical ‘niques when I created you.

Sorry,but running a site is a lot more complicated than popping out to get a bottle of wine and some treaties ,and much more frustrating too.

However, I do like the writing bit, but I need a secretary.

i love you.
MUM xxx”

What was I thinking of?

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I am bloody sick of doing this blog already and I have not even started it.

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I woke up this morning with the thought that there was no place for older women to go to find out what sort of hairstyles suit older women.

What style of gear suits a body that has now bloody mindedly changed shape, seemingly overnight.

Somewhere to go to for advice about sex, make up for older skin and hair, advice on preserving the illusion of youth and ways to attain health and true balance of mind, body and emotion.

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Anyway, I rang one of my sons and told him he should create one.
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His reply was that a man in his thirties was hardly credible or qualified to do so, closely followed by the comment that I was eminently suitable as I covered all the bases.
Somehow, within a very short time he had purchased me a site, and set it all up for me.

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This was obviously facilitated by the fact that he is very media savvy and most excellent at working with with computers.

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Anyway, there I was at midday, site all set up, bolstered  with a few instructions on getting a comment uploaded to my title page and off I started

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It is now one in the early morning and I have somehow managed to lose the title page and generally cock it all up.

I could scream my head off with frustration, and my son is going to think I am a total idiot tomorrow.
I hate it all and I wish I had just kept my big mouth shut.

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I feel so stupid.   All I have ever done up until now is open the bloody computer and use google or check my e mails.

Anything harder than that and I just got my husband to do it for me.

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At the moment I feel like forgetting the whole stupid idea and giving up.

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The only thing I can manage is to write and save this……so sod it all…… I cannot do it.

I am expressing my bloody frustration just for my own satisfaction.

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In the morning I shall read it,  tell my son I have failed, and eat lots of  sugary rubbish.

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So sod it all and bugger it too.

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Arse, arse and double bloody arse.

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First thoughts

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Hi,

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Today I was talking with a lady I met in the street, and I commented that she must have been partying on with a vengeance, as she looked somewhat tired.
She then told me that she had been visited the previous evening by a friend, who had turned up unexpectedly, accompanied by a nice bottle of decent white wine.

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They had spent the evening talking, and the friend left quite late after saying that she had enjoyed the evening immensely and always felt so much better for seeing her again.
This all sounds wonderful except for a not so desirable side effect.

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The lady who had been visited said she was left feeling completely drained and low and had ended up crawling off to her bed.
I asked if she had noticed this effect before, when she spent time with that particular person, and the answer was a rather puzzled “Yes”

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Do you know someone yourself, who makes your heart sink when you see them coming, because every time you are near to them you are left feeling that the sky is a little less blue, and your pleasure in the day has gone awry.

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Have all your exciting plans for the day dried up and left you feeling that you may as well just go home and kill yourself.

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Do they touch you as you are talking to them.

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Do they brighten up and tell you that they love talking to you because you always cheer them up?

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Of course they do.

Anyone with dim energy would feel much better if they had just had an injection of life force.

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The only problem is that you need all your own energy to be in balance for who you are, and you cannot afford to be having it drained away by people who are unconsciously pulling it away from you.

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These people are energy vampires and you must watch out for them.
Don’t misunderstand me, these are not bad people, they would not knowingly do this.

They are just naturally drawn to a person with very strong life force where they can warm themselves, as if beside a fire, drawing in heat and comfort.

In future when you see the person approaching, you must firmly say to yourself that you are not going to give away energy to this person, it is your energy and you are going to keep it.

You may find that after being with you for a while the person will look a little concerned, and ask you if you are feeling O.K, because you seem a bit off, or different, or even ill or tired.

This is because, on some level, they are aware that they themselves are not getting their usual charge of energy from you, and are therefore not feeling a betterment.

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It is a shame for them, but it is better than you feeling depleted, and them not ever learning the ways in which it is possible to raise their own levels of vital life force.

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It is also better than you eventually beginning to dislike being with them so much that you actively avoid them .

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Sometimes a person will come to realize that they have allowed themselves to be surrounded by negative people, and situations, that prevent their development,but that is a different story for a different day.

be happy.