This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .
18th April 2006
Today I got up really early. I didn’t even sleep properly last night , I had strange dreams almost as if I was in a state of semi consciousness. I was up and dressed by 7.30am I even heard the man above me go off to work . I don’t know his name , but I will refer to him as Ivan from now on . Ivan appears to be from Poland . He could even be a Russian or Albanian for all I know . I feel confident to state that he is ‘Eastern European’ . The language sounds somewhat Slavic in its form. Not that I know anything about these languages just that I have been around long enough to make some connections.
Anyhow, Ivan has been living directly above the room I occupy for at least the last six months. This morning an old volvo estate van pulled up .This seems to be some kind of work transport or trades gang. As soon as it pulled up the driver surrounded by at least another seven or eight other burly figures of similar racial complexion and cultural behaviour , blew his horn several times very loud too . I would like to shout to him to shut up and get out of the vehicle and use his finger and press the door bell . But I dare not in case I elicit an aggressive response. Ivan came rushing down to join them.
So Ivan and his gang of what look like builders have all gone out to make some money. They must be builders . Ivan is often seen carrying bits of wood and holding various power tools, whereas his friends have been seen to be covered from head to toe in plaster or cement. This group of loud and rowdy looking Poles seem to have come to London with a vengeance. They seem to have a hunger for work. I guess it is the new European Union’s rules of engagement Others would call this another example of the government inviting foreign tradesmen to come to the country in order to keep the local complacent builders on their toes and prevent them form demanding interstellar prices for botched up work.
I see many of these people , just like Ivan around this area either going to work or returning . I have often seen them shopping with some kind of excitement when seeing the prices in London supermarkets which I believe are extremely cheap compared to those of countries cursed by the former Stalinist regimes .So Ivan and his gang have gone to work .I don’t have anything against these new guest workers or immigrant settlers , whatever they happen to be .
One night a few weeks ago I remember seeing Ivan bring back two women of his own nationality and a male friend..This was a Friday night . I happened to be coming back myself from a drink in one of the local pubs. These Polish women were gorgeous , tall , fit , blond and self assured . And I could hear the whole scenario. Not that I can understand Polish but what went on was more the language of love. Not much was left to the imagination although I could see nothing I could feel my ceiling shaking . I wonder what it must feel like to be a successful predator and win at bringing a willing woman home to have ……… wild sex. Some people get all the luck.
After Ivan had gone I stayed at my window watching the world go by . I saw Olga leaving for the dress factory , She has really become more fashion conscious and adjusted to this way of life.
All have gone from this building except Francis and myself . Francis is a seventy two year old retired bachelor . I wonder whether he is retired from the world , from work or from himself, considering the amount of years he has been alone. I have, on a few occasions had a drink in the pub with him and will say more about him on other occasions..
I visited the corner shop at 10.00.a.m. I planned it this way and wow! She was there. I blushed as I pretended to look at various headlines as if I was trying to make my mind up about which paper to buy.
‘Good morning Sir ‘
‘Good morning’ ,I replied as she attacked me again with that penetrating smile. I eventually picked up the Daily Mail; I hate this paper but just felt I had been over doing my browsing. I chose a chocolate .
‘85 pence please’ I fumbled pathetically as I tried to gather the right amount of money from my wallet .
‘Thank you ‘ with a smile of sympathy on her face.
‘Thanks , bye’ I left the shop and wondered what else could I do to match that for the rest of the day?
Well guess what ? I returned home by 12.00 md had some frankfurters with soft rolls and mustard then had a nap until 3.00pm.
I did n’t leave the flat again today . I noticed Ivan returning by 5.15 pm . I thought to myself it’s time I found a job . I wonder if Ivan’s gang would want me?
I put on the radio and listened to various classical stations until I was sickened by the frantic pace of some pieces then switched it off. I ate again at 8.10pm , the scraps of my previous meal together with a tin of okra .
9.30pm. onwards :Watched TV passively mindlessly , thinking it’s time I did something other than just exist and fantasise about real living. I wept again briefly , it’s happening more and more often , I don’t know if it is the fact that I have committed this non-event that is my life to paper …..but it has shown me that my life is even more meaningless than I had previously imagined.
I had no wine to drink tonight . I made a cup of hot chocolate , smoked my last cigarette ;the two went well together .I brushed my teeth and made my self happy thinking : ‘It’s pay day tomorrow!’ I will receive my- two weekly dole cheque.
I listened to the pompous radio phone in presenter, in his element debating a topical issue of the day and thought: 'He is the opposite of me , he likes the sound of his own voice and proud of his opinionated ,often ill-informed platitudes . Whereas I don’t even like to be noticed . He is successful , I am a failure ; The Bastard!.'
Tomorrow is a special day . I slept on this happy note.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment