Dingo the Dissident

DINGO THE DISSIDENT : Qweir Notions in the Anus of Diogenes, weBlog of a nearly-octogenarian Binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Wednesday, 26 August 2020

Ever since I've lived alone

(since 1966, in fact) people have "dropped in".
For the first few years it didn't bother me,
I even welcomed one or two of them
with open arms (or, sometimes, fly).
But soon I found it tedious, especially
when I was painting, tubes scattered on the floor
(I painted on my knees, 'in all humility').

I find it impossible to say don't come, 
I like my solitude,
or come by mutual arrangement only;
come, take me to a megalith -
or something else of interest or fun.

Somehow I have always attracted
lonely, bored, rejected people.
So they've arrived and bored me.
Is it that I'm too good a listener
or just too easy to dump loneliness upon ?

Some, with whom I lost patience (in an unruly outburst)
were so aggrieved that they never got in touch again.
People I would have liked to visit tended not to come..

Even now a lonely 'burden on the state'
(much younger, less robust than I) drops by three times a week
to ease the burden of his isolation  - with a tot of  La Réunion rum.

2 comments:

Marcus Billson said...

How long has your website been a part of the worldwide net? Have your unwelcome visitors been mostly a post-web phenomenon? Your web presence with all its honesty, daring, and originality invites engagement, contact, curiosity about who you are, Who is the flesh and blood personality generating the words, the ideas, the surprises?

Wofl said...

My unwelcome visitors started in around 1966. They were flesh and blood and very boring, but because of my upbringing, I am still very bad at saying NO! It's not polite when people have trudged out to meet you...though, come to think of it, I had no unwelcome visitors when I lived in 'the back of beyond' in the middle of a small forest on the Irish Border...