Liz Bentley photographing Tesco Delivery Man, no selfie as was in a bikini

 

Tesco Delivery Man and Van

I didn’t take a photo of me this time. I was sunbathing on our Peckham Patio in my bikini. When Tesco delivery man arrived I couldn’t find my clothes, just like Barbara Windsor in the Carry on films, but I’m older than she was when she did that sort of thing.  So I let the man in, then flustered around hopelessly looking for my shorts. He came into the house and brought all the shopping in, he was a fearless Tesco Delivery Man, and rather lovely, as they all are.

I’m doing dry June. I’m bored of alcohol and lockdown and lockdown and alcohol, I’m bored of so much right now and struggling to express my feelings because everyone is feeling so different so much of the time and I am concerned I may offend, be taken the wrong way. And frustrated, upset, angry about so much.  We all have our family crises inside and outside of our lockdown situations. The ism’s are bigger than ever, if we are prone to OCD, the OCD is ever more present, if we are prone to denial, we will be in denial, if we are an abuser, we will abuse more and doors are closed tighter. A loved one is in ICU, not for CV, but for years and years of being a ‘number’ in the mental health system, drugs more drugs and more drugs, rotting her consciousness and everything else including her body ignored, drugs will shut you up, but destroy you, slowly, and now they are.

I remember performing at a  ‘hearing voices’ conference years ago at the Welcome centre with Dolly Sen. I will never forget the chorus from the audience “We want our voices heard”, not dumbed down. A voice is so real to me and I hear it echoing from the ICU.  It’s not fair and it never will be.

My 92 year old uncle Peter always says “there is no such thing as a problem, just a solution” yet during our last phone call he resited this:

“It’s the rich wot get the pleasure

The poor wot get the blame (and the pain (my addition))

It’s the same the whole world over

Ain’t it a bloody shame”

 

To find a solution to any of the feelings I have re all this world change feels impossble. Another reason to cut out my alcohol drinking, I need to have the clearest head possible, and I’m preparing for a 30 minute artist presentation for DOA, to be aired on 24th June at 3pm.  To be given this opportunity fills me with love for DAO and the organisations who have helped me to create and keep me sane. I want the presentation to be brilliant! Liz Bentley brilliant, that means, raw, honest and perverse.  Here is a new poem, but before, how the fuck are car showrooms so important to open sooner, and how the fuck did this government pass a LAW that having sex with someone from a different household is now illegal? A law.

 

The Gaze I Crave

 

I didn’t want masks, to mask

I didn’t want sreens to screen

I didn’t want Brexit

I didn’t want, I never wanted a Tory government

I didn’t want my kids education to be interruped

(How the fuck does my son do a popular music degree online?)

I didn’t want to homeschool my daughter (she’s at the age of trying to separate from me, I’m the last person she wants in her face over her studies)

I didn’t want computers, I remember when the first computers came into the office I worked in

I didn’t want them, I didn’t want the training to learn how to use them (see certificate)

The Gaze I craved was gone and my 45wpm typing speed didn’t matter anymore

 

I didn’t want the internet, I didn’t want internet porn

One of my boyfriends got it first so I went into a chat room

It excited then disturbed me

I didn’t want mobile phones

My best friend who I met on a nudist beach in Greece, she lives in Cambridge, I met her in the early 80’s, when we were in our early 20’s. We kept in touch in a more intimate way than on Facebook posts

I so so so so did not want the internet

I did not want to have to remember passwords, maybe one would be ok, like that of a secret diary, but not a book full of numbers, letters, higher case, lower case, pound sign, star, & ….. I didn’t want an Email address

I didn’t want to be a number

I am a number

The home shielding team rang and said “How are you?”

I said “Are you really asking me how I am? Do you really want to know how I am”

“What’s you gp’s address?” They said

I am a number

A human

No, I am a number

The gaze I craved has gone

 

my first and only computer certificate 1983
‘this report is based on factors observed in class and should not be taken as a prediction of future performances’

 

 

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