A dream you convince yourself is going to happen...

It must be at least 10 years. I'm not able to hobble upstairs to check my dream boards, as I'm currently sitting on the couch writing this, while my good foot is soaking in a hot bowl of water with apple cider vinegar. 

I know, it just looks like a shed, right?

  

   My toes on my left foot are absolutely killing me, they are on fire, and my Achilles, which I thought was ok, I have discovered is playing up, like if I stand at the kitchen counter making a cuppa.

  So here I am, falling apart.

  I've just had a call from the IBD nurses and given my dates for the first three vedolizumab infusions, all dependent on not having any infections, to be discovered either in my foot when I visit my doctors or when I provide yet another pop sample. If shit were money, I'd be worth a whole fucking steaming pile of it. I've taken that many tests.

  Why the fuck couldn't I just go and get a less embarrassing illness, but no, it had to all revolve around my guts and access through my asshole.

  Good job, I no longer give a fuck. In fact, I am reading a book by a gentleman named Mark Manson, titled "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck." I highly recommend it, and I am only a few chapters in; it's so funny, and the author's take on things is bang on.

 So what have I been up to? I am seven chapters into a book I have decided to write, just over 17,000 words, and I am enjoying both the writing process and the creative side, as well as discovering how I think. I've actually read sections of my book aloud and thought to. I said, "Hey, this is canny good." Obviously, no,'ne' good has been the only critique of my own work, so I sent a rough draft over to me, courtesy of David. I'm sure he will give me an honest opinion, and I'll either start again or virtually rip up all my hard work and just say "Fuck it."

  Now then, I got sidetracked there, as I started with "It must be 10 years at least."

I can see it in my dreams

   What I was going to say is that for over ten years, I have been dreaming of somehow coming into money and buying my dream house up in Scotland.

    It would have enough land to start up my various business ideas, and basically, I would live happily ever after.

  On a night just as I am in that state of mind where you are between consciousness and that other subconsciousness, I can imagine, as if it were real, that I am walking through this house. I know it by heart. I imagine walking up to the door and opening it, making a drink or even a dram of whisky, sitting and relaxing, lying on a couch with my hand on the floor, listening to the house, with a peculiar sensation as if it speaks to me.  

Absolutely beautiful

      I checked to see if a particular house was still for sale, yet again today, I don't most days in truth. The house in question has been up for sale on three separate occasions. Something wrong...Or it’s waiting for me. Hopefully the Universe comes across my wee blog and decides I am not a bad fella, and gives me a helping hand. My business idea's actually involve giving back, just so you know I am not all greedy and possession oriented.

Hopefully, the Universe reads my blog, "Hey, just putting it out there."

   

  I'm going to have to sell a lot more Lost2bFound books. I've just checked, and I've only sold sixty-one. Come on, people, for fucks sake, it's only a couple of quid as an e-book, and a paperback is a tenner.

Lost2bFound "come on people grab a copy."

 

 I only make, on average, 70 p per book, so I have to sell, oh, I don't know, about a million. Only 999,949 to go, yeah, I'm staying positive.

    Bringing up an image of the house on my phone and pinning, I decided to write this, whatever you would like to call it, a poem, a musing or maybe nonsense or crap.

Glass House

As I look at the scene, it reminds me of a dream, where a red—roofed house, that's made of glass, lies beneath blue skies filled with clouds that gently drift and pass.

And upon cold days, weary bones can be warmed while siat before an inviting open fire, lifting spirits higher and higher.

A choice is presented—to listen to the beautiful surrounding nature or—put on a track and get lost in future journeys—each song a new adventure.

Surrounded by a land made up of green, grass—with wild flowers in nearby meadows—trees and hedges protecting the borders, right to their edges.

And upon those borders—lies a wee cabin overlooking a Lochan—whose views are so beautiful—you can find yourself lost in dreams again.

Dreams that are so special— and rest deep in the souls of us—bringing content smiles and warmth—preventing negative mental thoughts that can form like rust in us. 

    Well, that's about it,  time to dry my foot off and go and do something less boring instead.