• Another Year

    Well, here I am again, home by myself for another New Years Eve. Just me and Season 3 of Dexter.

    What can I say, I fit the profile.

  • Patterns

    I’ve been avoiding writing this new blog since I decided to start it. I haven’t wanted process the fact I’m repeating the same patterns over again. Very little has gone the way I’d hoped since moving back here, at least in the ways important to me. I’m not where I’d hoped to be at all, and the likelihood of things turning toward something good seem remote and painfully unlikely.

    I’ve never understood how my mind works when it comes to falling for a girl? Ever since I can remember, all the way back to Primary School, I’ve fallen for girls who where not interested in me beyond a casual friendship. It’s happened a handful of times to me as an adult as well. Not many really, considering the time frame, but every girl I have ever wanted to spend my life with has not wanted the same. There have times been other girls, casual, within relationships, even living together, but it has never been more than happenstance or convenience. Never born of love.

    Thinking about this now exposes a strikingly stark and painful fact. Not once in my life has a woman ever said to me, “I love you.” Never. It’s hard for me to believe that, but I think it must be true. I cannot bring to mind one time. All my life I have been so full of the need to love someone, be loved in return, it makes this tiny fact is almost surreal to me.

    Why this is, whether it’s something I cause, or the girls I become attached too, I really don’t understand. Is it just bad luck? Bad timing, fate, punishment, hoax, cruel joke, random chance, or just my blind idiocy, I could not say? But I know the effect it has had on my mind and my life. It is difficult to think about, and far harder to put into words.

    The effect of this sort of emotive history on potential future relationships is obviously great. It has become so much harder. Rejection is the norm. I can’t even begin to put this in a coherent form right now…

  • Old and New

    My oldest blog (before the word existed) would be over ten years old now. I wonder if it still exists anywhere? The earliest I could find in storage was this.


    Sunday, 26/8/2001 11:08 AM

    Bloody. Seems I’m not dead after all. My html kung foo is very poor at the moment, terminal apathy I think. Basics only here till I get some inspiration…
    So where have I been since I last had an ‘Internet Presence’? (dotcom billionaire jargon) Well, I’m not sure really, time just seemed to pass? It’s weird when a lot of big things happen to you and suddenly its two years latter. Feck!
    Anyway, I’m almost in the clear and ready to start annoying the _fuck_ out of people again.

    Strange to see it again. Those are the original colours. Most of it was topical, and if you change the names it wouldn’t look out of place in today’s news.

    Lots of crap poeticism as well. Nothing changes.

  • Unconditional

    Rejection is always a difficult thing to handle, even after I’ve had so much practice at it over the years. It hurts regardless of how gentle the turning away may be, perhaps all the worse for that, because I see a compassion which only seems to add to my esteem.

    The reasons were untold, and I still don’t feel the right to ask. I can guess, but simple guesses rarely match a complex reality. It was not no, please stay away; it was no, but just stand over there awhile please. Am I being stored, for later use? I don’t know? I feel I’m in a limbo of sorts, and I’m not sure which way is out, up, or down? Could she change her mind? Has she? It’s this doubt which binds me.

    I’ve tried to stay away, tried to look at other girls, to no avail. I am drawn back each time, drawn to an idea of something that seems impossible to isolate, something akin to a totality of being. It simply feels so right. When I allow myself, just for a moment, to look at what I feel, it immobilizes me. It takes such an effort to suppress it again. How can that be so one sided?

    The idea that she will never see what could be, I can understand that, cope with that. It’s her life, she deserves be happy in this world. The idea that she might change her mind about me, and I missed that moment, this idea crushes me.

  • Impact

    It is striking how deeply embedded some memories can be. Everything still so clear, still so immediate. It’s then, and it’s now. Such a brief contact after so many years, she appears, only to vanish again. Again, nothing resolved, no explanation, just a hammer to head, and gone.