Post-Diceys

These nights of self-examination never go well. Who am I? A nice guy, nothing more, nothing less. A guy who tries too hard? What do women not see in me? I lack the bottled courage of my companions. Throw the lips, go in for the kill, seal the deal. Fuck that shit.

Fuck. I'm 29, nearly 30, and no idea what life holds. Should that be liberating? I'm adrift. Need to refine the five year plan, have to include love. But you can't plan for that shit. You don't know when it'll start, nor when it'll end. All you can do is let it happen. Lie back as it steamrollers your heart.

Why?

Why do I feel so empty inside? Why do I feel like my heart just died? Why do I feel so cheap and used? Why do I feel so abused? Why do I fool myself so? Why can't I just let her go?

Authenticity

You know, it's when I talk to my friends from days gone by that i realise... there's a genuine nature that they lack. And that's why i love you. x

One more sleepless night

Why does Morpheus deny me his sweet embrace? His gentle caress bringing blissful slumber, ignorance and escape from the rigours of thought and deed. Instead I dwell in the land of the restless, forever turning on the spit of fatigue, wishing for an end to the tortutous moments wasted awake.

Written on my phone

Memories of people... Russians. The VT crew, each one them a gem. Emerald, a female Chinese Ultan. Jeany. Lee. The Easy Riders. Bobby. Team Denmark, so daft but welcoming. L&C, J&T. Team Scotland, who did so much to bring me out of myself.

Debbie. M&J. The Western Exposure band. The guests of Annie's Place. The Uluru tour group. Lisa and Marco, and the Japanese. The camping families. 4bg.

***

Lena like Yuliana. Michelle a much nicer N. A lot of young kids, nineteen or twenty - Gea or Laura for example - such confidence they have. I still feel obliged to protect them though.

***

For L: Your piece of information to keep you interested for the next two days is: my hair is currently pink, and my nipples are purple.

Ultimate unsent text

I could've, but didn't. I wouldn't, I couldn't, because it's not her. I want to tell her I miss her. I want to tell her I've made a terrible mistake. I want her back.

Creativity

If one sits down with the intention of being creative, rather than the urge to be, the innate desire, the creativity is forced and false, a form of artificial intelligence.

Some people

It's like some people haven't grasped the concept that the world doesn't revolve around them. They don't appreciate other people's efforts, their opinions, their thoughts, their needs. Self-gratification is their only aim - emotional and physical whores. Friends are harvested for their benefits, feeding the ego and the soul with empty substance.

Love

Such is love. We are but sailors on life's ocean, tossed like so many salads until we throw up over the side, or hit a big fuck-off iceberg. Or a lettuce.

So old

Sometimes I feel like giving up - I feel so old, like I've lived hundreds of lives packed into this lifetime - an eternity of experiences tearing me apart at the seams. Sometimes I don't know who I am, sometimes I don't know where I stand. The sky reflects my emotions, but only if I can tell it what i'm feeling. It's the pain that reminds us we're still alive.

My brother

I know the drone downstairs is my brother on the phone to the samaritans. A hollow guilty feeling steals over me, because I know I should do something, but I know I won't. He killed my enthusiasm for caring with a thousand negative comments, always shirking from my touch, never opening up, except with desperation. Now the only person he talks to is an anonymous voice, who just listens.