Tag Archives: thoughts

Melbourne

2 Jul

This is my first post in a while so I guess an update is needed.

I finished at work on the 19th of June 2009, my last day there in my current job. The weekend was spent with my girlfriend, Flo. I love her so much right now. My landlord came to do an inspection on my Flat 22nd June, told me my rent hadn’t been paid in 2 months and wanted a cheque from me before she left. I argued that if this was the case I should have been told long beforehand surely? Apparently her accountant had not realised. Well, I don’t have a cheque book, I don’t appreciate you asking me to then draw out cash and finally to borrow from a friend. No this will never happen. Especially considering that you have failed to have my gas safety checked in months. Don’t try to bullshit and harrangue me with the fact that the flat belongs to a charity. You WORK for the charity, you get paid wages, so do your bosses, your cleaners, your new offices. Everything. I understand how charities work and how big the operations really are, how much of the money raised by those gullible enough to give really goes to those it is designed to help. Don’t come preaching in my home!!!

Long story short, she’s kept my deposit and expects me to pay the balance at the end of this month. Last call, I asked her to confirm this to me in writing and have yet to recieve any response.

I left my Flat on the day of my flight, the place was finally empty, I’d sold my last fridge via Gumtree, at the same cost that I had brought it for and I guess it was time to start another adventure and to see a little of the world once more. To challenge myself and to grow.

It’s a little upsetting, giving something up that you have worked so hard for, packing a few bags and leaving the rest behind. Realising that finally, you have nothing left. Only the bags on your back and the memories in your heart. I shut the door, gave the keys to the shop below, walked away. I didnt look back, I got myself a coffee and a sandwhich in my favourite cafe. Saying a silent goodbye and hoping to once more be in a position to live in a place I am happy and love. I cried silent tears as I waited for the bus and sat bleary eyed as I travelled a short distance to say farwell to a good friend and then walked further to my parents house where I sat out the rest of the day and then onto the airport. Bags checked in, security – Finally – passed. Then the waiting game. Facebook, a real book, a sandwhich and the plane was ready to board.

I don’t know if I realised the significance of those actions until a while after I was on the plane. My stomach dropped as we lifted of, inside I think its true to say I was terrified of this step. I don’t think it was just the affect of the take off that had hit my stomach so strongly, it was the compilation of everything and the nagging doubt that still haunts me today. I’ve pulled apart my supports and let the world I had so carefully contructed to block all of my dangers and worries, to settle cossily inside my private domain. To come crashing down around my ears. Everything was over and I had taken those fateful steps that have so far led me down an unknown and largely, unappreciated path.

The flight was relatively short and before I knew it I was being awoken by a blinking seatbelt light. “Please fasten your seatbelt, we are about to begin our decent into Dubai airport”. The message was being announced by our pilot and again my stomach seems to of descended a lot quicker than that of our plane.

I spent the next week in Fujairah with a good friend of mine. Melting from the sweat and generally being oblivious to my surroundings. Soaking up the atmosphere and having a nice time. Enjoying the friendship of thsoe I had met before and those who were new. Being instantly accepted into a community I was not readily off, it was fun, it was nice and it felt happy.

Goodbyes are never a nice thing, again this one was more so unpleasant for without the support of my friends I would of been broken from unspeakable sadness, regret and the fear of loss. I was, and still am. In denial of the steps I have taken. The path I am walking down doesn’t have any signposts and there’s definitely no light at the end of the tunnel. Only my determination to be better, stronger and more secure is keeping me going, for my feet will surely stumble on this dark and uneven path. I am not led by god or believe as many would be, instead this comes from inside to prove to myself that I am me. Maybe also to reflect the slight arrogance thats clearly part of my being, slightly better. Just to rise above the lip of the wave and to have the strength and determination to ride the ripcurl to a different land, a different destiny, a new beach and finally. Warmer climates. Obviously a metaphor in Australian winter.

I understand a little better now how those who come to London, many my friends, struggle through a foreign and often harsh, lonely winter to come out on the other side. I think I can connect a little better with them on terms of empathy to what they must have, and still do experience. For those of you who know me and know what I am talking about. I respect and love you all more now than I have ever done before. With you in my mind I will fight this winter and explore this land. Onwards and Upwards.

My first day in Melbourne is going to be spent getting my feet and my bank account sorted out. For the love of God I hope sincerely this does not become a lifestyle. I will hopefully avoid the necessities that are inherent in this by not taking on those little reflections of a true citizen, you understand. Local sim cards, bank accounts, jobs and friends with the local school headmaster.

Today is a new day, it is early and there is much to do. Today is the beginning, today…

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I never

5 Jun

I never write about the ones I love or the happiness in my heart. If you read my posts you would think that I have nothing much in my life except blind ambition to an unforeseen goal. A direction and dogged determined attitude towards something completely obscure to all who know me.

This morning has been oddly upsetting. There is someone I love, I think so, very much, but who am I too know if what I think I feel is real. I’ll miss her so much and the fear of loosing what I have stumbled into, almost blindly makes me turn my back, almost on a goal I have aimed for over the past year or more. I have this desire and this need to push for these goals regardless of the pain it causes because I know its something I need to do before I regret my whole life knowing I could be a better person.

I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a while that maybe for me it is a solitary journey.

I’m scared of this trip, even more so now. But part of me considers it may be better, to be honest with myself, my mind has tossed and turned backwards and forwards constantly for the past month or more. To be or not to be, to go or not to go, to do or not to do. Whatever the answers, logic persuades me finally to accept, once more. To accept that I may lose, through fault of my own, something very special and unique to me…

You know how some songs remind you of the thoughless instictive care and love of those around you, those people that love you even if you are a smelly git…

Growing with Grandparents

12 May

I don’t really know where this thought came from, I remember sitting back and watching or reading something and seeing the word grandparent.

Do you know the saying – no-body’s born a parent? or similar, basically saying that nobody knows how to be a parent on the off. It got me thinking that maybe its better that children grow up with their grandparents, because lets face it – they have already done it before? so surely they know better.

I think unfortunately here is where it all starts to break down. Let’s look at old people in general, smelly, grouchy and most of all stuck in their ways. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. So here’s the thought that, being older won’t  make them better parents, they will continue to make the same mistakes because its in their nature to nurture in their particular fashion. The thought is not likely to come to them that maybe they did make mistakes in bringing up their own children so being parental, their little angels are perfect.

So what about children that have much older brothers and sisters? It seems like a fairly perfect middle ground until you realise that, if the older siblings are past the teenage years, or have left home. The likely hood is that the younger siblings will get mothered and smothered. Having their every whim catered to. Spoilt!
The reason I think this would happen is that parents always want the best for their children, what they couldn’t give the first and older child they are more likely to give to the next child. After all, over time they have got used to their budget, they have matured, and could be financially better off. Mistake. Children need to be treated well of course but you can’t give them everything they want, they need to learn some real life values of hard work and intelligence, they need to understand that life won’t just hand them everything they want.

So maybe….just maybe if children are brought up in a small group, similar ages then they might have a fair chance, because the parents won’t be able to spoil them. They will learn from their siblings and peers and the parents learn quicker because the “mistakes” are more likely to happen with more children.

Don’t get me started on only children…I do wonder though if foster children are the exception to these rules and ideas??? Anyone know?

Naked Wireless

22 Apr

I recently brought a Bluetooth headset for my IPod and as is only natural have taken every opportunity to walk around my flat naked wearing only my headset listening to some nice misc. Very nice.

There’s no real purpose or thought behind this post really. I’m sitting on the train and feel the need to write. I#’m slightly scared of the swan song….
Writing my last entry without realising would be even worse. But Im happy and relaxed and for once my mind is not running in circles constantly. 2 goals, both achievable. 1 love. Very nice 🙂

Now for the running commentary –

Hopefull a fat person won’t sit next to me…..

6:57 – Sidcup station, large man, pink shirt. Fuck! Terhe’s a gap between us but if some fatty sits down next I’ll be stuck between a wall and a fat person.
Music – Jack Johnson

07:00 – New Eltham Station. Skinny lady, beige coat, metro. Some lttle boy on the front – apparently a 12 year old kiler. What a little bastard!!!. I’m slightly nervous at how close people are, that they could read this. I need some kind of “Don’t look at my screen” shield.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:03 – Mottingham Station. I’m safe. All the seats in my area are taken up but I’m snnoyed that I managed to pick a seat in front of the old lady who would drop coffee by my feet.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:05 – Lee Station. I’ve just realised this train stops more frequently than busses how do I manage to ever get to work on time.
Music – Linkin Park

07:06 – I’m bored of this commentary, going to read.

The relationship status

2 Apr

3:35 GMT

I think I like waking up at this time with a thought or an idea that makes me want to write so much.

I feel I may have been neglecting my blog for a while so this is me showing her I still care. (isn’t that strange) the emotion I attach to my blog is a female personification. Much like a ship or the sea. I have women at 3am with a need to feel her embrace and respect. Overcome with fear and suspicion my mind aches to relieve some of those worries. So much that I type on my iPod knowing it will generate lots of spelling errors. Knowing that using big words will confuse my phone and end up with a jumbled, ignorant looking post. Well – I can fix that tomorrow. Aha I have foiled the only foible. Now to the crux:

I think I have just pinpointed a curious idea about our social behaviour, the way we interact with each other and I guess this need to keep a few things mysterious. Particularly prevalent in online networking sites ala Facebook. But I feel just as relevant in face to face booking. Hehehe see what I did there?

So the idea, we lie about our relationship status when we feel the need to be accepted by our peers. The best example being “it’s complicated” what a stroke of brilliance.
Those 3 little words are frickin’ genius (like sharks with laserbeams attached to their heads). The words it’s complicated could mean so much.

In fact all these relationship statuses could just be a lie! That’s right, there I said it – when I have been ‘engaged’ for the past year or so. Well it was a lie, when it says it’s complicated chances are I’m single and sleeping around or I’m not single but I’m not making a big deal about it, pretending to the world and myself that I can resist the urge to shout it out. Oh and by the way her names flo 🙂

It’s complicated is such universal and open ended statement. I like the idea that you here or see “It’s complicated” and then just make your own mind up – deciding that maybe they person doesn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe deciding that are gay and ashamed? It’s a sentence that doesn’t actually tell you anything real, solid or factual but our mind fills in the details allowing us to gloss over the missing parts and proceed with the next question or thought, as if we have learned what we asked, in fact. We have learned what we already believe to be true

Masquerading Mayonnaise

31 Mar
Real Mayonnaise

Real Mayonnaise

Real Mayonnaise – Real Mayonnaise.

My only thought worth publishing or writing about recently has happened today. I was in the kitchen wondering what to eat. Looking at Asda own brand mayonnaise and realising I have never seen mayonnaise that does not have somewhere. A label stating “Real Mayonnaise”. Now it got me to thinking. When have I ever not had “Real Mayonnaise”

What constitutes, mayonnaise. What in essence could something be that is masquerading mayonnaise and not real mayonnaise.

I am confused about my food.

The first and the last resort

14 Mar

Men rebel. That much is true and obvious. But what is the last resort? What is the first?

With old age all of our dignity and our rights slowly get taken away or lost until we have near nothing left.

When first born we have to learn our rights, reponsibillities and ultimately our limits.

I think that during both of these times and indeed through our whole life just one small and seemingly minute option to rebel against all forms of tirany and oppression. That is:

To miss. Young boys do it clearly on purpose – the toilet bowl is larger than their head and yet they still manage to spray urine all up the wall or over the floor.

Prisoners do it – when they have no rights and everything they do is monitored an judged. Excrement up the wall and pee in the corner.

Men in their prime. 30 – 45 reaching a peek in their career. Imagine them having a really bad meeting with the boss. I can imagine the need to pee in his plant pot or all over his chair. It’s almost animal.

Old infirm men, living in a home. Well it may be accidental and shakes because of the arthritis but after so many years of being able to pee standing up I think they will continue to do so. Even if they constantly miss. Because let’s face it – it’s the last vestige of rebellion. To be able to say screw you I’m going to pee on the floor. Standing up.

I might of taken the random thought too far, taken a theory out of context but maybe the animal inside us will always mark our territory.

I might suggest this to some waring factions in the middle east. Why don’t you all just pee on the land that’s yours and stop arguing. Go back to basics. Anyway, I’m off to the bathroom.