Friday, December 24, 2010

2010: Hung Jury

Regular readers will already know this; regular friends, too. 2009 sucked, but as I finished off my last years end post, I went into 2010 with a drink in my hand, and hope in my heart.

But that was a heart which, like a nihlistic Daft Punk song, was harder, colder, meaner, stronger.

Just when you think that things can't get any worse, they usually do, and prove to us that we didn't quite have the depth of imagination to visualise how bad it could all be. So, for awhile there, 2010 looked to be just as bad as 2009, if not worse. Well, I suppose that was the first half of the year or so.

Sort of like last year, most of these tales of woe aren't mine to tell, but I will say this: It all looked pretty bleak. People were sick, people died, and other people had some pretty horrible things happen to them.

"I lost the plot for a while then. And I lost the subplot, the script, the soundtrack, the intermission, my popcorn, the credits, and the exit sign."

Ahh, High Fidelity, my favorite, most quotable of films and books. God bless you Nick Hornby.

There were some good times, too. Don't get me wrong.

I was in a bad spot, mentally, I guess, and I thank you all for sticking with me through it. I don't think I made it easy.

And then, one day, I just let it all go. Chucked in the job, moved out of the house I was in, packed my stuff, and went to Europe. Which had the potential to not end well for reasons I'll probably never tell you. Granted, it didn't all happen suddenly, I took the time to make sure that if, for whatever reason, I never made it back, everything would be in it's right place.

Shortly before I went to Europe; and again, this is a story I'll never tell you; what I regard as an omen occurred which made me think that ultimatly, everything would be okay, one way or the other. It made me think about all of the good things that had happened up until that point.

People got better. I still mourn those we'd lost, but I made new friends as well as the old, who didn't replace those passed, but helped me through it anyhow. People had some really lovely things happen to them as well.

And then, Europe. Which you can read about to a certain extent on my travel blog ( - Still haven't finished it off, it's coming, I swear). And it's just a collection of stories I wouldn't mind my mother reading (an avid reader of the blog). It's very hard to put into words things like a feeling, or an experience. If I had to sum it all up in a phrase, I'd have to say "life changing." Ask me about it sometime.

I managed to reclaw back a lot of what I'd lost. I re-discovered the plot, the sub-plot, etc. And now I'm working on the sequel.

Like I said earlier this year, I read a packet of Skittles the was a soothsayer reads entrails. And all of the best days are filled with blackberry and strawberry. But some days are filled with lemon. But we need the lemon flavor to make the strawberry and blackberry even better than they are. Life is beautiful, it really is. And sometimes it takes the bad things to happen, to make us realise that it isn't forever, and to throw the good things into contrast just to seem a little better overall.

I love you all, and you are in my heart always.

Merrily Ex-mass,


Thursday, October 21, 2010

She was right.

I met with one of my favorite authors today.

She told me that having nothing to lose and everything to gain when aiming for a goal is okay, but what if you acheive that goal? Then you have something to lose. Something they can take away.

The ache becomes more prominent. I came here knowing, and not caring that this trip might just kill me. After all, I had nothing to lose.

But now I do. I have someone I want to hold, and ideas unrealised. And fuck me, I want to live!

The irony isn't lost on me, I guess.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010


I will love you three hundred and sixty-five days a year.

Which means that every four, on a leap year, there will be one day I do not.

Which'll probably be your birthday.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

True love in Prague.

Today I walked into a bookstore in Prague. 'Big Ben Bookstore' it was called. it sold English language books. the whole time I've been here, I've been looking for an English laguage copy of Milan Kundera's 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being.'

She was pretty. I know that sounds a little shallow, but it's true. and I don't mean 'hot,' like all the girls who make themselves up to look that way.

No, this girl was pretty. And she worked in a bookstore. And she has a nice singing voice.

She was singing along to the radio quietly. I kinda like that. That kinda shy, kinda not giving a fuck about who's listening to her doing her thing. It's something I find attractive.

And then I said something stupid, and she, very wisely, said something sarcastic, and witty as a reply.

Like Henry Rollins said, I just want a girl who can sit me down, shut me up, and tell me ten things I don't already know.

Re-reading this, I realise that my skill as a writer cannont do that moment justice. And as time goes by, I just may rewrite this to better encapsulate the moment. But it was a very real moment for me. And I will love her always.

Even though I know her only as The Very Sarcastic Bookseller


I bought a book the other day. And I'm not too far into it. But I already love and fear it. I identify all too well with the characters. And I know something horrible is going to happen to them.

This book might just destroy me.

But as ever, I have hope.


I found a lump.

I mean, Jesus, as if that wasn't emasculating enough. But yeah, on my right testicle.

And who says that playing with yourself is something you should grow out of, or something that is not healthy?

But the thing is, that I found it with less than a month to go before my big Europe trip.

And this was what was keeping me going these last months.


I needed that more than I needed breath itself.

So I said nothing.

Maybe it wouldn't have interferred, but I couldn't take that risk.

And maybe it'll come to nothing, and maybe it'll mean worse than that.

But I got my Europe trip. And she's better.

And maybe God does make deals or maybe it is a coincidence. But she's better. Maybe it's only for now. God, I hope not. But maybe. And she, already, has made better use of the time than I.

If this comes to a whole lot worse than nothing, let my final words be recorded as this.

It was worth it.

Monday, August 30, 2010


So, my little brother has a blog.

He posted a link on my Facebook wall. It has a few posts so far. I hope he writes more soon. But there's just one thing.

It's really good. It frustrates me that it's so good. I mean, for fucks sake, I'm eight years his senior! I should be writing better than him. Not looking at his work with a mixture of admiration and envy. Maybe this is why Dad was so angry all of the time. Not because he was evil. Not because there was something wrong with him, But because when he looked at us, he saw all of the things that might of been, but never were for him. I guess I understand that now.

I can't help but think about that day when I walked into the bathroom, and found Dad holding Justin down in the bath. He didn't hear me come in, and he just kept saying 'Four is just too many' over and over.

Justin was already blue when I found them.

But when I read through the words my brother has written, and the jealousy creeps in, a little voice tells me that maybe I shouldn't have hit Dad with that shovel. That if I'd never walked in there in the first place, Dad would still be alive, and Justin's words wouldn't be making me feel so bad on the inside..

Maybe it isn't too late to fix things. Not all the way, sure. But maybe I can make things a little more like they were supposed to be.

Or anyway.

I guess what I'm saying, little brother. Is yes. Yes, I do like your blog.

It's very nice.

Would you like to go to the beach this weekend?

Monday, July 26, 2010

The promises we make...

You said we'd be friends.

Just because we couldn't be together, didn't mean we couldn't be the best of friends. That's what you said.

But time has gone by, and you don't write, you don't call. Sometimes I hear things from other people about how you are, or what you're doing. Sometimes they're the kinds of things that friends would tell each other.

I'm glad you're happy, I really am. But still, I can't help but think that maybe all that time ago, when you asked 'Can we still be friends?' What I should have said, was no.

No, we couldn't be friends. That from that moment onwards, we would be archenemies. That I'd be the Lex Luthor to your Superman. That you'd be the Joker to my Batman.

And we'd do battle. We'd demolish cities with our plots and schemes to destroy each other. Millions of lives would be lost in our feud. Billions even.

And one day, when there was nowhere left for either of us to hide, we'd stand in the rubble of the earth that we'd ruined in our pursuit. And face off against each other. In a final battle.


The way we were always meant to be.

I hope you're well.