Tag Archive: Kylie Minogue


See it here.

When I was in my teens I used to like to wear maxi dresses, especially to church.  I felt good in them.  We weren’t allowed to wear trousers and I didn’t feel comfortable in shorter dresses, I felt self-conscious.  Maureen Shearman, Andrew Shearman’s wife, brother of David, sat opposite me at the lunch table in church one day and had a conversation which didn’t include me with someone else next to her, about how maxi dresses were a way of attracting attention to yourself, and that was seen as a negative thing in my church.  Pride and vanity.  I was a fat teenager not allowed to wear trousers in church.  The right words to describe how I felt feel ridiculous because of the present harassment.  Self-conscious, mortified.  They don’t feel ridiculous, they feel not mine, so not helpful.  They should be mine. Alongside everything else these neighbours are stealing from me.  I’m terrified of them, they are so grossly indecent in their insistence on making me believe they are right, whether they believe it or not.  Especially the men.  I need the affection of kind men.  I think they are playing on that fact to continue their control.  I didn’t mean to write about them, I never do.  Through making me feel I can’t continue with what I do intend to write about, they insinuate themselves into everything.  Perhaps I should start using another colour for the terrified and desperate and angry material they provoke, then people can skip it if they want to.

The dress Kylie Minogue is wearing in this picture is reminiscent of the long nightie I borrowed from my grandmother (I’m not going to say what we actually called her because when I did when I was small I was put down for it by another child) to go on Summer camp to Southsea and Portsmouth, while my dad was still alive and I was in the C of E at that time, I think.  The staff were called after the Wombles, if I remember rightly.  Maybe I’ve got that wrong, I think we had a Great Uncle Bulgaria,  but I can barely remember that part of it.

I wore a much nicer and more stylish dress, I think, sleeker and not frilly, to take Ray and Jill for dinner at the Nottingham Savoy.  I was really upset because I think I had booked for the main restaurant and a proper dinner, 3 course, 5 course, something like that (when I remember, engage in memory, the people upstairs start getting uncomfortable, clearing their throats, making noises.  I just want to shut them out and it disturbs me deeply, it frightens me that it happens, and I resent it.  I am convinced it is the nature of their own harassment that makes it possible.  They are stealing me from myself, and I can’t initiate facing and confronting the serious issues in my life feeling this way, because I know what a hash other people, left to themselves, have already made of them, and me.  I need myself and my memory and my perception, in my own free space.  Why?  Because if I have to face a trial I want to be able to stand up for myself or at least represent myself accurately, and if I [they are getting more aggressive and banging] have to go to prison I want at least to be able to survive.  If I go in pulped already I won’t be able to.  I’m not afraid of prison.  I’m afraid of what might happen to me if I go in already pulped.  The same applies over the eviction issue, if I’m not allowed to remember and people think they understand better than I do, I might lose my home or retain it on terms I can’t handle, and I’d like to deal with it efficiently up front because I don’t have the money to be able to afford trial and error), and I think we lost it because I was late.  We had to make do with the grill.  (I can’t even experience the healing of my own memories with these people.  My grandmother would have called some of their verbal output shit with sugar on, and my grandmother was a very capable person, she kept things running, until she fell and broke her hip, and even then she did outwork for a local medical company, for very little money, and was always pushed for time and exhausted and upset and harassed, as well as being uncomfortable and in pain.  She worked all day and only stopped to sleep and eat.  She was afraid of hospitals and never got her hip fixed, she refused and no one forced her.  Forced her?  You can tell where I have been.  My neighbours are indecent, imposing themselves on my consciousness as they do, 24/7). 

Anyway, back to the point.  I mentioned Kylie Minogue and her toilet references in my Scritti Politti post 2 or 3 days ago.  Now she appears hunched over looking shame-faced and hiding behind big sunglasses and wearing my grandmother’s nightie to go out in (both the nightie and the dress I have mentioned were the same colour), and I’m wondering why people are using such subterfuge to try to communicate with me and don’t just use direct contact, as they are able.  They ARE able, they can comment on my blog, they can use my email address.  This isn’t fair.  These people, even my family and other past relationships, are being indecently cowardly and harassing in all this.  They should make proper contact, and they know it.  I am living underneath people who are terrifying the life out of me with the deliberateness of their harassment and the depth of the men’s cowardice (or opportunism?) in particular, in harassing a foreign woman and not going to the police, and everyone who knows me or used to know me is just as bad with their coded presentations.  When are you going to see fit to stop and make proper explicit contact about the things you want to make contact about?  Do you have any idea what you are doing to me?  You don’t, do you?  You don’t even care.  You are as bad as my present neighbours and are enabling them in every way. You’ve never cared, throwing in your verbals and pictures from a distance, knowing how to contact me and never doing it.  How can I, feeling so beaten up and dazed from abuse, and frightened when I go out because mentally I’m all over the place with constant flash backs of police and other authorities despising me and not daring to go to them, believe that any of you care?   You care enough for tears and guilt and uncomfortable expressions, but not enough to come close and help.  I need practical, legal help, not psychological and emotional rehabilitation from the people who have been responsible in the first place.  What I am experiencing with these people will continue unchallenged, here and everywhere else, until you people stop your own cowardice and make it stop.

Edit note 7.54pm UK time.  I just added the tag ‘Violence Against Women’.  Apparently it still appears under all the other tags, but it isn’t appearing under this one.  I don’t understand why not.  I tagged it about 5 or 10 minutes ago.  Maybe it’s another instance of WordPress psychological violence against me.  They have been stalking me for ages with bait and switch, a couple of sweet and materially relevant Freshly Pressed posts followed by something psychologically violent straight after, like some form of aversion technique.  AOL does the same thing on its ‘Today’ page.  My browser crashed after I started this note.  When I came back online I was taken back to the Violence Against Women tag page, and before the first post an advert had appeared for hosting your own blog, through WordPress.  I don’t know how that works, if I still have access to the tags page on the main site.  At the bottom of my post an advert had appeared for Pop Pressed and its featured ‘Win-Win’.  If I have a mental health diagnosis which people like these have been exploiting for years to continue in what they have been doing, it would be completely irresponsible of me, and puerile of them, to want to allow a ‘win-win’ situation.   End of edit note.  My blog could disappear any moment.

10.09 pm UK time update:  I just added the tag ‘Fashion’, which I thought was already there, but although it says on that page that it has just been posted, it doesn’t appear.  Unless the tagging system has changed and now too many don’t go through but the ones before do, it appears to be ‘some sort of’ censorship and selection.  This could be something to do with the personalities involved, because when I looked under the Jools Holland page for a previous post after my Scritti Politti post a few days ago, I discovered the one I posted a few months ago was no longer listed.  I think they are trying to make me feel like a naughty little girl who doesn’t automatically have the same publication rights as everyone else.  When I got half way through that last sentence I got a notice saying IE needed to close.  It felt like a message saying, ‘no, that’s not it, don’t post this’.  So is it hands on or do I have a virus, vocabulary activated or something?  Is it protective or harassing, should it be seen as legal or illegal?  I believe it should be seen as illegal.  It is deep manipulation if this is a targeted thing.

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Green Gartside, to be exact.  But my ears pricked up as soon as I heard ‘Scritti Politti’, because when I was at the Polytechnic of North London (now London Metropolitan University, I think) studying English, I was in a class with a lecturer called Pat Jackson (so we must have been studying pluralism as critical method.  I think we had to go for another than our main option, in the final year) and she told us she had heard a song which she thought was rubbish, but when she realised it was Scritti Politti she understood how intelligent it was and it made sense to her, or something like that, because the songwriter, or one of the songwriters, in the band had been one of her students.

I can’t remember who it was, if she mentioned his name.  I just did a Wikipedia search and it says they were in Camden but there is no mention of the Polytechnic of North London.  I didn’t look at the biographies of all the band members, only two.  They mention another Polytechnic up North and Art College or something.  I wonder if they have disowned PNL.

I might not have listened if the Jools Holland television programme wasn’t being advertised on the BBC TV iplayer site.  I haven’t listened for the past few weeks, even though I have meant to.  But there is a main feature advert, so my listening can hardly be called coincidence.

How exposed do I want to feel?  It is hard, when everytime I try to look at something that would make me vulnerable to say, lady sheepy upstairs opens her throat and utters.  It must be something to do with the violence, that they are able to do that.  The hysteria I feel at the invasion takes away my ownership of what I want to say.  And for me that feels mentally and psychologically dangerous.  These people are demons feeding on my human blood, sticking their fangs into my emotionally open and meditative throat.  Keeping it open by their constant, doglike behaviour.

As I was saying, how exposed do I want to feel?  The Wikipedia article says Green Gartside has worked with Kylie Minogue.  Kylie Minogue was on Jools Holland’s New Year Hootnanny programme.  Among other things they were doing their usual toilet stuff, and in her mix which made it obvious Kylie used the word I used to use as a child for faeces, ‘a-a’ (said like the first syllable of ‘apple’ twice), and she performed an appropriate body movement while leaning on the piano.  There was more in that programme, but I didn’t get to record it for some reason I can’t remember.  But where did she get it from, because she definitely had it and used it.

I’m looking at my ‘free speech’ tag and feeling guilty about exposing this, because I told Tommy Boyd he could do anything he wanted with anything I gave him.  But I didn’t mean make a show out of it for years, while I am still living under people who are psychically going for my tongue and leaving me struggling to breathe.  They just banged again, just now.  Three sharp bangs.  They do that when they feel a change in energy or something.  Since they do it when sleep approaches, every time, that is the only explanation I can find for it.  So understand something of my complete fear and desperation.  When I lose it I shout a them to shut up.  I just did, and one of them rapped again and another went and peed.  This is a regular pattern.  I’m beginning to get used to it and see it as normal and not gross, and feel as if these people could possibly be friends.  There is something wrong with my mind,. isn’t there?  I’m bombarded with it all the time, from the media and everywhere.  There is no refuge.  Is this brainwashing?  Indecently intimidating brainwashing and dumbing down, or what?  They shut their doors at me when I go in and out, but do all this to me over my flat.  I began to dream about how I wanted relationships in my new home to be, when I get it, and they did it then as well.  They are holding me hostage.  I’m in Plovdiv.  It might be stupid to give my exact address.  My leaders know.  Knowing this, and that they are leaving me here, or trying to woo me, makes me feel as sick as being here with these gross human beings, whom to call dogs might make me a target for the RSPCA for cruelty to the real thing.

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