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Processing Things.

Some stuff just ain't processed yet, though.

Marination...
Wine...
Writing...

Good combo?
No’ always.
Y’uft.

This isny a poem,
it’s a random...
Stringing of words.

Pseudo stanzas...
Drunken rambling,
unedited.

Crap.

And that’s the way it shall stay. For the record, I’m not that drunk, and that "isny", is a Scottish word, so not a typo. I’m tipsy, but not drunk. If I was drunk, I’d still be able to type and make some sort of sense, but that’s my curse. I haven’t been rat-arsed for a long, long time. 

Well, there was that really emotional musing I wrote. Tears streamed down my face, alcohol flowed down my gullet and through my veins. It wasn’t pleasant, but had to happen. Purging and stuff.

It makes me wonder...
Why did alcohol pull me under?

Well, that is easy, it’s a depressant. Or so they say, but I think it’s a stimulant. I was already feeling that way. Why the hell am I talking about sad shit? Fuck, I ain’t sad!

I’m happy!
I’m Kitty!
I have my Kitten!
Rejoice, rejoice!
And drive a Rolls Royce.

Had to undo my jeans there. Honestly, why do I bother with clothes? If I didn’t live with people, I’d just not bother at all with the damned things. I know when I move in with Aria, there shall be a clothes optional policy. I don’t see the point of being clothed in your own home. Ooh, the neighbours might see? Tough shit, they shouldn’t be looking in.

People look in my house all the time when they walk past. Why? It ain’t an interesting place. It is very pedestrian.

A normal house
in a normal street.
Why you look?
Wanna feel my feet?

Yeah, I feel like kicking their arses. They have no right to look in and no right to judge me on my attire, or sometimes lack of it.

Erm, enough about my clotheslessness. I could have said nakedness, but I’m going to make a point here, so I decided to make up a word.

Gaelic (Gal-ic, the other way, Gay-lick is Irish). It ain’t a language I understand. So imagine my reticence when a friend decides that he wants to lead a crusade to resurrect the damned thing. He’s all for an independent Scotland. I ain’t, for the record. Don’t ask why, it’s far too complex a subject. Right enough, so is Gaelic.

But the thing about Gaelic is that it just doesn’t evolve. When they need a word they don’t have, they use the English. The use of Gaelic was prohibited from 1800 to 1980-something. My friend told me, but I can’t be arsed to remember. You’d think that after 30-or-so-years, that it would have started evolving, but it just ain’t. As you’ve noticed, when I said “clotheslessness”, you understood that I meant nakedness. I can’t imagine such a thing happening in Gaelic.

If they really want more people to speak it, they should think about overhauling their image. I’m talking about the isles. They do all the stereotypical Scottish things there. Caber tossing, dancing with swords, bagpipes. As a mainlander, when someone tars me with that same, infernal brush, I feel horrible.

They have such a far removed definition of what Scottishness is over there, that it makes us all seem like barbarous, back-water, idiotic fucktards. We ain’t. We’re very evolved. We have business, we have electricity. Some parts of the Scottish isles don’t even have electricity yet. Yeah, I said “yet”. What kind of life is that? Not the Scottish one I know.

To me, being Scottish ain’t tossing a caber, dancing around swords and singing awfully twee music with high pitched violins. Nope, to me Scottishness is burying all the animosity towards the English and getting on with them. This is why I’m not keen on the whole independence thing. Like I said, I’m not going into it, or if I do, I’m not going too deeply into it.

England is only 366 miles away from Scotland. Why shouldn’t we be together? Why shouldn’t we sever links to the European Union and go it alone, together? Okay, so David Cameron is a wee bugger who is making all the wrong calls, I doubt you’ll find a Brit who will say otherwise, but who’s to say that if we had another Prime Minister, things wouldn’t change? History? Well, history is not an indication of the future.

Scotland has so much going for it, but we can’t be a good nation without the help from England. We need each other to help with the economy and shit like that. I don’t know, I’m a little too tired to keep going with this.

Led Zeppelin are good to listen to. I think I’ll do that. Kick back with some kind of beverage and listen. Maybe fall asleep for a bit and then go upstairs and Skype with Aria.

Ooh, I has a plan!

Kittylove
Andrew =^.^=
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