absurdity revised…

This has always been a place for honesty, it remains that way.

The pills stopped working 3-4 weeks ago. I’ve been running up-hill ever since. Every day is a new effort to stay on top of my mood.

The doctor has doubled my dose. Little effect has been felt over the past 3 weeks, not even a superficial improvement.

I can’t tell if I’m getting worse, or if I’ve been sad all along and it has been buried. It could just as well mean that the pills never helped and I had just gone back to my default again. Just as many times before; I have recovered from a bout of depression after a month or two of rest. I sail through the storm, rather than calming it in any real sense. Calm water mistaken for a persistent force.

Now I’m back to the stage I was at before, that black hole of sadness to the side of me – stretching to swallow me, but for now just remaining a peripheral threat.

I can be intensely happy, I can run about and scream and make noises. I can read for hours and hours, keeping focus. I can play stupid little games on the Wii with a semblance of satisfaction. It seems that when I am around people I can just forget it all. Except, when it comes to trying to sleep I just lie there getting stressed. I have to take my sleeping pills to make any attempt at sleep. Otherwise I’ll lay awake and my head will just endlessly play out encounters and projects and then start to hurt.

Headaches. I’ve never had them before and now I get one a day, usually around 5-6pm. It isn’t unwelcome. It keeps me focused on physical pain rather than the inertia of melancholia. At times it will feel like my brain is breathing with the same futile effort of a bulldog.

I’m still not any nearer, thanks to this slug-like NHS, to getting any real help. The consensus is ’swallow these and wait.’

To begin with you always take the options handed to you, because you’ll try anything to climb out of where you are. You’ll clutch at the straws of wishful thinking and convince yourself you are getting better, when really you are just subtly forgetting your fault lines run where they do.

I’m still reading. I’m still writing. I’m still taking photos. I’m sailing. I’m managing to eat a little when I can. I’m exercising. I’m alive.

None of it gives me real lasting pleasure. I’m trapped in the talons of this sickness. There is no reasoning with myself, I will just find myself sad and wishing that life would stop. It feels like I’m wired up to the taproot of human misery, I’d give anything for a little of my usual apathy. I’d give anything to have my ego reclaim me. The thing is that I just don’t care.

Selfishness, I guess. Therein lies the dilemma.

Am I so self-involved that a perceived misery is unconquerable in the face of all the joys laid out ahead of me?

In the light of all the misery in the world, what makes mine seem acute in comparison? Do I have a right to ache?

Is pain relative or is that egotistical? Is pain in fact on a scale from one extreme to a far greater one?

Is comparison to other perceived ‘greater pain’ helpful? Or does it just make one wallow even more in your own limitations and self-centered attitude?

Most recently my life has been especially given over to other people. I have put myself second in the greatest of my efforts and helped (often beyond my means). I have not done so for gain. Except that I have gained friendships that I value and make me regretful for not establishing with similar candidates in my history. I have not lied. I’m not even proud, I care very little about what people get from me. My misanthropy has now been turned on myself only. I retain my skill of apathy as a challenge to myself, making more and more elaborate efforts to assist people. I suppress my selfishness when it rears up, forcing myself to do more and more beyond my comfortable inclination. I feel I am better for reducing those unpalatable parts of myself.

It gives me a question… can you be a good person by suppressing your sinful attitudes?

Can you be human and be free from selfishness? Or is it just a quieter voice over time?

These are all questions that mean very little to me. Before they’d have driven me to madness, but now (with a little help from Camus) I have seen that they are all absurd questions. They will never be answered to any great or helpful point. What matters is that I ask them and continue to act in a way that comforts me. It comforts me to ask these pointless questions because it focuses my aims. I am content to be a good force in the world where previously I have been a negative force.

I understand that it is in my nature to be sad. That is who I am. For a reason unknown, I must ache. It is not an obstacle, merely a feature of my landscape. Just as a mountain is not an obstacle to a mountaineer, but a victory he attempts to claim. The man seeks not to climb over it, but to conquer it in the name of joy. Just as to a fisherman a sea is not an obstacle, but a landscape of harvest. Not to be skipped, but endured to obtain a bounty.

Still this truth brings no real conclusion. I am a captive of myself and to myself I must bear witness.

I continue to grow, even if there are pains in doing so.

Filed under: Depression, Drugs, Existence, Food, Friends, Future, Happy, Home, Lonely, Reality, Strangers, about me, anxiety, cracks, hopes, news, sleep, solitary, vacuum

have a heart? almost.

[the stops are because I can't get the formatting right. sorry.]

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I’m going to answer a couple of questions about my progress this year.

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• Think about what has gone well this year. What are you happy with? What has been successful — & how did it come to fruition? What have your greatest achievements been so far?

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This year has taken me up and down further than any year before it. I’ve evolved so much I’d swear I was in new skin, if it wasn’t the same damn face staring back at me every morning.

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Success is measured in so many ways, but I’d have to say making my emotions level out has been the biggest success. Learning to drink in moderation. Making lasting friendships. Two more things that I’m greatly thankful for.

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Great achievements have been getting published (and paid!) in The Times for my photograph of One and Other in London.

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Surviving a massive breakdown isn’t something I’m going to sell myself short on either. I’ve done a hell of a lot of work toward easing my mind and heart. I’ve been up and down, but I’m flying along at the moment.

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I’ve no stressful job, a roof, a great girl, creative expression out the yin-yang. Photography is great, designing and making clothes and jewellery is wonderfully fun, writing is triple kick-ass. I’ll have a collection knocked out in a couple more months.

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So, yeah. Lots of stuff.

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• Think about what could have been improved upon. Could you have tried harder in a couple of areas? Of the things that didn’t go well, what could you have done to change the outcome of that situation? If you had taken 100% responsibility at the time, do you think things would have played out differently?

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I could have done a lot better at making money. I’ve let quite a few opportunities slip by me. I’m not really sorry that I did, more just that I could have made a bit more cash and had a few more nights on the town with people.

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If I hadn’t been a coward, then perhaps things might have gone better. I wimped out on things because I was being overly careful after a few setbacks.

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• What were your goals at the start of the year? How are they going? Are they 20%, 50% or 100% completed? If they’re not checked off yet, why not? (Don’t be afraid to admit they’re no longer important to you if that’s the case.) If they’re still things you want to make happen, what could you do to speed up your progress? Who could you ask for help? How can you break up the goal into manageable chunks to make it easier to achieve?

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I didn’t make any real commitments at the start of the year. If anything things all changed pretty sharply, so if I’d completed the goals that I had, I wouldn’t even be in Liverpool. So I think rather I’ve adapted well and when my goals flew out from me, I took the opportunity to put a bit of distance between myself and making goals.

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Some things I did decide on quite quickly was to make better friendships and invest myself in people more. Be more honest with myself and others. 100% complete I’d say.

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• When you look at the people around you, what have they achieved that you’d like to do too? How can you make that happen? Can you ask them for assistance or advice?

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I haven’t considered this, but there are a few people I have met which have made a real impression on me and I do intend on emailing them for advice and simply to make myself known to them. Some are local, others are netweb people, but all are fantastic people.

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• How are your finances looking? Are you making as much money as you want? Are you saving any money or just spending it as soon as you get it? Should you ask for a raise, start a savings account, cancel your credit card, stop obsessively trawling eBay… ?!

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My finances are in better shape than they ever have been. I’m usually crippled with debt and spend more than I make. Right now I’ve lowered my bills and have made a few streams of revenue. Plan is to get into seasonal retail to get enough cash to pay back my parents and take a trip to a few places in Europe. Venice and Rome are on the plan. Paris is a place best kept for a romantic escape. Maybe Berlin too. Cheap travel with only a satchel and a few empty journals. Definitely taking my camera too.

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No one is ever making ‘enough’ money. But I’m making enough to keep me comfortable.

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Credit card is cleared off, long ago.

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There is nout wrong with internet shopping!

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• Are you happy with your career? Do you feel stuck? If so, why? How could you alter that? Is it time for something new? How can you improve your situation? Where could you grow? How could you branch out?

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I’m LOVING work. Whatever I earn is from art. Whatever I make is from something that I have made. It’s a wonderful feeling. I’m not stuck at all. I’ve got to do some seasonal work, but there is no stress because I can jack it in after I have the cash saved up to travel. Then when I get back I’ll only have to get some part time work to keep my head up, earning more money from art as I go.

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• What do you do with your spare time? Are you constantly playing catch-up & running errands with no time to relax & just do nothing? Is there a class you want to take? When was the last time you took a holiday? Are you in control of your free time or is someone else?

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Spare time. Well, I have it all to myself now. I’m running about doing things, but having fun doing them.

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After doing my bit around Europe I’m hoping to enroll in University again, but starting again from Year 1. I figure it gives me a year to get into shape and then I can play the last two without pressure.

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Going to study either writing or photography – I haven’t decided which. I figure that photography gives me more earning potential. Writing is still my main talent though. We’ll see what the world offers me as direction.

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Last time I took a holiday was prolly down to Falmouth. Can’t wait to go back. I think I’ll be heading off down there again to see a mate later in the year. Just need to get some cash.

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• How does your body feel? How healthy are you? What are you eating? Do you exercise? Are you drinking or smoking more than you’d like? Do you need a spa day? What positive steps can you take towards a lifestyle you feel happier about?

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Damn, these are loaded questions. Can I just say that people seem to like it? OH!

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Yeah, healthy. I get a good lot of walking done. Sailing keeps me fit enough.

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Not smoking. Not drinking much.

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I totally need a spa day.

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I need to get my bike in action, so I can start racing around this tiny slip of land I call home.

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• Are you getting along with the people around you? How are things between you & your lover? Your workmates? Your kids? Do you ever see your best friend? Do you ever get personal emails?

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Things are great with people. I’m getting on with my friends well. Set to meet more shortly when I start doing the shoots I’ve got arranged.

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My ‘lover’ is fine.

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My workmates are quiet. I’m solo, but it means I have less nights out with the crew.

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Best mate is many miles away.

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I get a personal email pretty much every day, people from my past, people who like my blog, people who hate it, people who want to meet me in Liverpool. I’m in demand.

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• How about you? How do you feel about the person you’re becoming? How’s your personal integrity? What are the attributes you hold in high esteem? Are you embodying them? What can you change? What can you begin accepting?

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I feel i’ve answered this already. I’m 100% wicked, wicked, wicked.

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Personal integrity is at an all time high. Which is as much a surprise to me, I can tell you.

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Truth now is paramount to me. I will not lie.

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Totally embodied.

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I can be bolder, more courageous.

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I can begin accepting every given opportunity.

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• Are you involved in your community? How are you helping the people around you? Do you know your neighbours? What could you do to improve the lives of people in your immediate vicinity?

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More and more involved with the people in this fine and grubby little city.

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I like to feel I’m here if people want to make use of me. I could get more involved helping people (note to self).

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I do know my neighbours, but I want soon to have new ones.

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My new motto for improving lives is :- Give more, take more.

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It improves mine and other people’s lives. Wonderful.

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Filed under: Day-to-day, Depression, Existence, Friends, Future, Happy, Home, Love, Nightingale, Poetry, Reality, Today, about me, hopes, novel, poet, prose, published, undervalued , desire for change, escape, Happy, idea, interviews, Nightingale, photography, prose, sailing

photo-journalist AWAY!!!

Hello world. Again he returns with stories about his half-lived life.

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So, where to begin?

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The beginning of this month started fantastically with the #oneandother carnival rolling in to Trafalgar Square. @thespyglass did her time up there and I took photos.

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The whole place was theatrically dark, the curtain of dawn rose as she took her place and the photos were epic. Ones taken by Photographers even made their way to Grazia Magazine in fact.

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I’ve still not gotten around to editing and uploading mine of @thespyglass’s time up there. However ones that I took of another #oneandother contestant actually ended up in a Times Supplement. So I’m over the moon and my wallet is packed with £20s thanks to the amazing fact that they PAID!

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The rest of the month has seen me writing quite a bit in two new novels (not unlike me to have more and more projects flying around) and also taking photos and making things. I’ve taken to putting my energy into easy to finish projects. I’ve written a short story, fixed things… you get the idea.

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I’ve recently started making a range of jewelry. Just necklaces and rings and bracelets for now, but my abilities are increasing all the time. I’ve also taken up designing clothes. I think I’m pretty good at it!

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Another cool thing was the Liverpool photo walk sponsored by these guys WWPW – Starting at 5:30, we walked about taking photos. It, personally speaking, wasn’t that enlightening from a technical point of view (but then it wasn’t meant to be). I guess the best thing about it was just getting to see other people working creatively. Seeing the types of people that live in the anthill of this fast-paced city.

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I’ve certainly been a lot more thankful for living back on the Wirral. It is just the best place to be. Quiet and beautiful on this side of the water, but a mere few quid away and you get a sprawling, decaying, developing, waking, groaning, creative and infinitely exciting city. Not to mention beautiful cafés and funky people to photograph.

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Another big change has been that I’ve gotten a new phone to help me with my business endeavors and emailing and blogging on the move. I already had a bluetooth keyboard from a long time back and I’ve paired that to it, so I can now be the photo-journalist I’ve always wanted to be. Best thing about it is that I’ve managed to slash what I was paying. I’m now paying Orange pretty much half the price of the phone! Not to mention I have the mins I need and unlimited data and texts! Sometimes it pays to have a really, really shit job in a phone store, just to learn how to negotiate.

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Okay, signing off.

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Filed under: Future, Happy, Home, Reality, Strangers, about me, news, prose, published , citizen, journalist, liverpool, oneandother, photographer, twitter

been away a day or two

so where do i begin? after near on a month how have i done?

okay. really!

got loads of great photography done. made loads of new friends.

been working on taking apart a Furby and other electronic related geekery.

read and written a lot of really great stuff.

currently working on 101 things to do before i die. also 101 things to do in the next few years.

i find that i’ve got so many opportunities opening up for me. my parents have bought a boat that i can sail away on. loads more things. things, things, things. (even the option of following my dad on his business trips to European cities – he’ll work, i’ll take photos and drink coffee)

i’m really really happy, even without working (because i’m not spending a lot)

just being positive that there is life after a life lost. been a bit regretful – but then, when aren’t i?

anyway.

more will follow as i detail more about my movings.

as ever. follow me on twitter. @jensenwilder

Filed under: Bath, Day-to-day, Depression, Existence, Family, Friends, Home, Nightingale, Poetry, Travel, about me, books, compass, hopes, job, prose, writing the novel , 101 things, boat, electronics, follow, Furby, Happy, life, photography, positive, twitter

Wide Sargasso Sadness

“Very soon she’ll join all the others who know the secret and will not tell it. Or cannot. Or try and fail because they do not know enough. They can be recognized. White faces, dazed eyes, aimless gestures, high-pitched laughter. The way they walk and talk and scream or try to kill (themselves or you) if you laugh back at them. Yes, they’ve got to be watched. For the time comes when they try to kill, then disappear. But others are waiting to take their places, it’s a long, long line. She’s one of them. I too can wait – for the day when she is only a memory to be avoided, locked away, and like all memories a legend. Or a lie…”

Last page of Part Two. Wide Sargasso Sea. – Jean Rhys

What wakes in me is the knowledge that I am very similar to Antoinette in this novel. (Perhaps we all are and that is the glorious moot point to this whole journey. Each of us have our own yearning for a place to be comfortable. Each of us, the need to escape persecution from a life we have not chosen.) I dread to go on, as I do, about Bath – except that it is still at the core of my subject. The centre of my recent sadness. So I must re-conjure it, yet only in the explorative sense – no hint of the nostalgic.

Bath is a picture to me, a movie, a reel of film. Non, it remains as a negative for me to hold against the light. Raised as a sample. A solution, contained within a petri dish, which I will match against a depression I cannot hope to master. Trying to determine if it would make for a good culture of inoculation. A vaccination against future bouts of restlessness. I know I cannot change who I am, though I can choose a lesser pain and use it to vaccinate myself against further heartache. Allow myself to learn; teach my immune system a way of fighting off every sign of sadness.

I get restless when I am not fulfilled – as we all do – I begin to fear a lack of feeling. Then a fear of feeling too much. I rush around and try to re-ignite my own passion for life. Distract myself from what is undoubtedly on its way. I start to sit and contemplate how I have reached this point in my life. Then I am overwhelmed.

In Bath – after I realized my lack of romantic love for Much – it became clear that I was rushing around and burying myself in other people – so that I wouldn’t lose my good mood. In January things took a nose-dive out of that revelation. So that I wouldn’t dip any lower than I was I buried myself in drink and social things. Invited myself along with American students that I met randomly. Got numbers from them. Planed on sleeping with one. Except even that didn’t save me, it was too late to raise myself.

It didn’t work because, when I reached the understanding that I’d only been treading water – that eventually I’d be drowned, I couldn’t help but reel back and lose control.

So home I went. But I packed away that understanding of myself. Took it with me to pull it out when I was strong enough to look at it. I only need to refine it now. Learn from it. Move forward.

I know what helps me.

Nightingale helps me, she understands my weakness because she has already begun the journey I am now starting. I’ve learnt from her, or rather… her voice is allowing me to hear my own.

Exercise helps me. Just a little a day helps keep those blues away.

Chemistry helps me – understanding that to help myself I need to believe I am simply a mess of chemicals – that there is an equation behind and yet controlling my emotions and I can curtail any lowering of it by simply adding more seasoning. A hint more distraction. A pinch of passion. A sprinkling of spontaneous energetic activity.

As clear as it is that I am preoccupied with Bath and the last few months. As mad as it makes me appear. As obsessive and compulsive and nostalgic as I might come across. I can’t help thinking that actually, it isn’t a negative thing to examine a sadness that could save me. If I didn’t – if I just buried it – then I’d only make the same mistakes.

Much like I did many years ago, leaving the Wirral for university (leaving my first girlfriend), I buried the pain and ignored it. I became a new person like a snake shedding its skin. I’m good at it; I’ve done it many, many times since. It was the wrong thing to do. I should have been smart enough to work out that there was something to gain from understanding ‘why’ I was unhappy with things the way they were.

Maybe it is maturity. Another plateau reached on the struggle to the peak of wisdom. You know, before I lose all logical cognitive function and fall off the other side into senility.

Antoinette moved from her island home – into marriage – and back to her island again. A honeymoon in a hell that she loved. It was her, as she was it. What I read from that decision is the old idea of returning to the scene of the crime.

As she, I have come back to the place of my childhood – a place that has forced such unnumbered pains upon me. As she, I have managed to find a renewed admiration for such a wonderful place. As she, I will face my hardships head-on.

Unlike she, I will overcome the forces met out against me. Unlike she, I will bow to the unconquerable, retreat and repair, so that I may return with redoubled vigor. Unlike she, I  will win a real victory – rather than surrendering to a fact that is unreconcilable.

Antoinette had a childishness about her that never fully lifted. Antoinette retreated into herself – rather than healing, for her, came the notion of hiding. I mean to break the spell of madness.

The book held a lot of goodness in it. I will write more on it.

“Do not be sad. Or think Adieu. Adieu. Never Adieu.”

Filed under: Bath, Depression, Drinking, Existence, Friends, Future, Girls, Home, Lonely, Nightingale, Sad, Strangers, Women, about me, anxiety, books, childhood, hopes, novel, writing

the ended frenzy…

So script frenzy is over with and I haven’t updated for a while because of that and other reasons.

Many thing have been preying on my mind lately. Mental health being the main one, closely followed by the natural course of life and all things in its wake.

Regardless, much has happened.

Script isn’t ‘finished’ finished – just 100 pages done and the whole idea is ripe in my mind. So I just need to write it out and round it off.

It concerns the exploits of Trip Ryder as he makes his way from trouble and into a new day. He comes out of a relationship with Calista Melia and discovers the more pleasing example of Gravity Hertz. Things are weighed up and Gravity wins out against Volvo Wilco’s argument that Trip should just distract his life away with misogynistic meandering.

After the win of Gravity, Calista returns to win back the only boy she’s been unable to understand. With enigma being the draw, Trip knows he has to play her at that game and dismisses her using her own words – so she can’t read anything more from things.

And that is that, the story in its infancy was nothing like the present day. We’ve more quick wit than a barrel of 20th Century Fox writing monkeys. We’ve got more aching than a dodgy tooth could muster. All encased within the guise of a love story long estranged from the normal formula. Where even mistakes are the order of the day, to lay bare the next step he must take.

The main aim is production.

Tonight – or rather in a few hours – begins the after party of script frenzy. I’m not drinking. Again. I wonder how they will stand the sober me. Things will be okay. Staying out, parents are worried, but standing at ease.

More to follow shortly.

Filed under: Coffee, Competition, Day-to-day, Depression, Drinking, Existence, Friends, Girls, Happy, Home, Love, Women, about me, anxiety, connection, hopes, much, nights out, writing

painting and god-forsaking…

Apologies for the boring nature of this post. Nothing exciting happened today and all my thought have been compressed to diamond dust under the weight of the sadness I’ve felt due to a withdrawal from hell. Except I’m on the mend, taken the right dose again, everything is shifting back into focus.

This morning I woke up, said a blissfully fake ‘good morning’ to my mother (the sentiment existed, it just hadn’t woken in me just yet).

I had coffee, pills, breakfast (crumpets) and then set about sorting what I’d do with the day. There were two niggling concerns. 1) My head docs are coming. 2) I have an appointment at the job centre to go to.

BOTH of which I had completely forgotten the exact date and time for. So I was at a loss.

No sooner had I thought it, than my head docs came to the door. I pretended I knew they were coming all along, they came in. Had a chat. Long and short is that I’ve got to chill out and stay on the meds for a long time to see what we’re up against. Wonderful.

Regardless, that felled one bird.

The next hour a call came asking if they could change my appointment from Wednesday coming (that I now, loosely, have plans on) to Thursday. All’s good says me and up rocks another knock on the door.

Opening it to a rather funny looking bald man (nose too big for his face and fish lips) he informs me that he’s here to give my father the car. I look outside and a Mercedes is sitting by our drive.

All I can think is… my god… I wish I could key-scratch it because that tin-can could have bought a great many people a great deal more than they have.

I’m hating the fact that he’s indulging himself – I have no right to think bad things – the old man sets up orphanages in India and Africa – I think he works hard too – fair play – but that taste in my mouth wont go away. Maybe it comes from never having these things when I was a kid. You just get accustomed to being on a comfortable living and then when extra comes your way – you either respect it if its occasional – or you resent it if it becomes a more constant part of living.

My motto is – ‘we can always do more’ when it comes to helping people. Except if I really look at myself, I’m not doing much at all. That is one thing that will go onto my 101 things. Help 101 people better their lives. Ticked off after  each one, but only if I’m truly honest with myself that I’ve helped.

My bad taste was transfused with a pack of saliva to water it to palatability after my father turned and told us he was taking us for dinner. How quick high-horses trot-on.

Here is the starter.

starter - pan fried tiger prawns and sweet chili on ciabatta

And the main.

sea bass

Wonderful meal.

More driving to get home. I ignore my hatred of the capitalist pig in him, thank him. We move on.

I also did the rest of the stripping, mother and father were both impressed that I was able to finish the whole room in such a short time. My lack of perseverance is legendary. The blemishes of jobs long discarded are marked on the house like battle scars. Half-sanded banisters, half-painted doors, half-…. Well you got the joke before, but I’ll finish it… half-arsed attempts to complete things EVERYWHERE.

Now I’m in bed.

Not sleeping but drowning.

(In wonderful warm coffee to keep me awake)

Filed under: Coffee, Drinking, Family, Food, Home, Today

share a day with me…

After yesterday not much could bring about a better day.

You do struggle on though. lol

So you wake up to the sound of your alarm. It’s 8:30 and its time to get a head-start on a new day. You wake-up knowing that you have it in you to write more than you’ve yet sat down and written, in the whole history of this month’s scriptfrenzy.

You grab a shower, you grab some breakfast (a first for some few days), you dress yourself and then you are able to settle down.

Hours and hours pass, along with a shower of pages. You print out the so-far… you edit it (even though you know you shouldn’t), you draft in another regiment of scenes so you have something to do tomorrow. You start and finish your CV. You grab lunch (a whole pizza *burb* Such a pig!).  You put aside the writing and pick up the book you are reading.

More hours pass and your mother suggests you have coffee and take the dogs off for a walk around Royden Park. Lovely.

Photography is the order of the day as you almost trip intermittently around the park and meet lots of other interesting dogs and other walkers – one who wants you to email over several of the photos you took of her little bundle.

Back home and you get to read another few chapters in a wonderful novel as the sun sets into the sea.

Few days have had this level of contentment.

Filed under: Family, Happy, Home, dogs

In search terms…

So, this month I have had 421 views for my blog.

These can be attributed to the fact my life has gotten a lot more interesting over the last few months. So I’m building up a little fan-base. I’m getting emails. Really though… there should be more comments on the actual blog so that all see what is going on.

So this is a call for comments.

Now, a lot of people are finding this blog by googling my name – coincidentally it is Jen’sen’ Wilder, not Jen’son’ Wilder – anyway, still others are finding it via a curious assortment of key words

My favorite two…

“is soap good for frogs eyesight?” and “real photos of santa”

I have NO idea why.

Hopefully you guys are liking the writing and will continue to be amazed by the drama that is my existence. I’m loving the hours and days at the moment and I’m actually praying for many many more, rather than that the earth will swallow me up.

So having avoided the suicidal, thanks to pills and a new aviary of pals – I now need to tidy my room and get ready for a BBQ this afternoon.

p.s. I will be working out the difference between Tags and Categories soon, so expect things to get a lot more organized in the near future…

Filed under: Blogroll, Existence, Food, Friends, Future, Happy, Home, Welcome, about me, hopes, writing , writing, idea, BBQ, organized, aviary, pals, pills, suicidal, Happy, loving hours, earth will swallow me, praying, Existence, amazed, is soap, good for, frog's eyesight?, real photos of santa, Jensen, Wilder, Jenson, key words, comments, views, blog, fan-base, emails

missing trains but not opportunities…

So last night was one of those nights that I felt wonderful and everything fit together fantastically.

I was at a loss as to what to do and karma paid me for a good deed. I got a bed, no agony.

Setting the scene: It’s 10, or something stupid and Eagle has left me alone with Bluebird and TurtleDove. Bluebird is keeping up a wonderful conversation about how I should be a little more aware of the fact that most women are in need of a certain amount of ego stroking if you are going to ditch them. TurtleDove is making do with twittering about the next meeting. We move on to Magnet and settle our tail-feathers down. Before long it is obvious that Magpie is a little too hammered. The evening ends not long after – maybe 11:30 – I’m walking TurtleDove to the bus stop.

I know full well that the trains have gone – here’s honesty at its finest as I know she will read this – but I wanted to make sure that TurtleDove was ok on her homeward flight. Also I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t going introspective on us. If something was up, I could hear it because I’m a good listener. I wanted to make sure that she got the bus she needed, where she needed it and wasn’t shot at by poachers along the way. Little else to say.

And then.

With the flight of TurtleDove I was sort of at a loss as to what to do. Trains had quit for the evening and its looking pretty likely that I’ll be having to bench-up for the night and write to keep myself warm. I took myself straight on, right and then right at the end of the street to come to where I’d been last weekend. Outside Travelodge.

Can’t help a guy for getting nostalgic. It smacked a little of returning to the scene of a crime though, I was haunted by the wonderful time we’d spent in there and then the awful way that things went after she’d left. She was a great friend. A very smart soul. Still…

I walk along and spot two girls sitting on the steps outside with fags in their mouths and sullen faces. Before they spot me I take my headphones out and pocket them so I can hear if they decide to speak. Because I’m a good listener.

One is sporting yellow shoes, a pink skirt and a yellow top. Two has pink neon tights and a green fishnet top over a black vest. Both are wearing fake tan and have wonderful breasts. The first is Toucan 1, the second is Toucan 2.

“Hey there.” Toucans 1 says.

“Hey, you ok?” I ask, not really caring. (I’d planned on heading up a little to the park next to St George’s and sleeping on a bench after some writing.)

“Yeah.”

I’m not sure what possessed me, maybe a lack of something better to be doing… but I asked the question.

“Do you want to hear a story?” – So I told them how I was a lovely guy and how TurtleDove had needed protecting from Magpie (not that that was true at all) and that – because of my knightly act – I had now missed the last train to my home.

“So, like you have nowhere to sleep?” Toucan 1 asked.

“There’s some benches up there.” I said, pointing to the park and looking at the girls with the most pathetic look I could muster. I know it was shameless, but needs must in times like these!!!

“No way! You can stay with us! Come up and party!” And so the invitation was RSVPed and we were all beaming.

As a little overkill I added “Really??!? Fuck that would be amazing, I’d kip on the floor like – I don’t want to seem full-on or nuthin’.”

I know, I know. I debased myself – my linguistic skills would have worked against me here though.

The most attractive is Toucan 2 (thankfully Toucan 1 has a boyfriend to distract her) – Toucan 2 is all single, owing to an argument that cast her Absent Boyfriend to hell before they ventured out on this trip. They’d been out, Toucan 2 had gotten ID’ed and had no valid ID – so Toucan 1 and Boyfriend (i forget his name, dan or ben or stan or something) had taken the party to the rooms in the Travelodge instead – to make up for the lack of ‘thumping beats’ they plugged their MP3 players into two sets of ineffectual little travel speakers that sounded tinny and shit.

There was ‘always tomorrow night kid!’ anyway. The trip was to celebrate Toucan 2’s 18th. No ID was down to the fact that Toucan 2 didn’t see the point in learning to drive so didn’t get a provisional due to the fact that she aspires to be an air-hostess – (my god, I’m proud of myself for not being very mean to her from that point forward.)

Boyfriend tells me that Toucan 2 hasn’t gotten any good sex in ages. He tells me that I’m “fuckin’ sound” and “well funny”- his breath smells like crab-sticks. I think that any moment he might kiss me, because his little brown eyes are jabbing all over the place, like there are 10 tennis matches going on across the surface of my face. Or he’s reading hebrew or something. Part of me was thinking that it might turn into a foursome, that he might be curious or something. Heaven forfend.

2am or slightly later and I’m being dragged about by my pants and falling over an open pink suitcase in Toucan 2 and Absent Boyfriend’s room. Absent Boyfriend is a stupid dick to have given up on this girl. As much as I would never pick her myself, I can see why any regular joe would relish her. She’s got long black hair, bad tan on, but a great pair that are snuggled up in her top. Her lips are lovely, all plump and juicy. We’ve got dark eyes and straight teeth. We’ve got long legs and hardly a gram of fat where it shouldn’t be. She’s the stuff of nuts magazines. Not my type, but I’m remorseless.

So anyway, I thought I was slightly more sober than I turned out to be. They are drinking the cheapest vodka I have ever tasted and not even mixing (the angels!) – Toucan 2 and I just click and start to kiss, the other two melt away. We move to Toucan 2’s room and my shirt is off in a heartbeat. Belt off and my trousers start falling down (due to all the recent lost weight *YAY*). We neck each other and roll about for at least 20mins before she stops.

Never so embarrassed, my face is bright red as she asks me to shave! She grabs me by the hand and leads me out like a child to Toucan 1 and Boyfriend’s room, before beating on it with her knuckles and asking if I can use Boyfriend’s razor! Boyfriend relents only because Toucan 1 is after his cock (for some god-unknown reason he’s suddenly irresistible.)

Toucan 2 makes a nuisance of herself playing with Toucan 1 as I shave in like 2mins flat and then Toucan 2’s got me by the hand and dragging me to her room again having stolen a handful of condoms from Toucan 1 (to much chagrin).

The rest needn’t be specific – but there was a reason why faces were shaved and she loved the attention.

Slight confession that might blow apart my stud image – but I’m happy to do it really – we never actually ended up fucking, in fact we were both FAR FAR too pissed and ended up sleeping. There was a lot of fumbling, she was worse for wear, so I told her to take a little kip for a bit and she was out before I could change my mind.

Myself, well – I thought about some things that I now can’t remember, script ideas ex-cetera, the room was spinning so I closed my eyes. A bed for the night was secure.

I woke up at about 6 and put my shirt on (trousers are still on me and I find my belt under the bed) I dress with the light from my mobile because the curtains make everything really subterranean. Picking up my bag I just open the door and slink away. I get lost down the hallway until I work my way back and take the right instead, finding the elevator to freedom. I use my last £3 to buy a single to my home station, settle down into the train seat and almost nod off on the way home. Wonderful experience.

I don’t feel bad, she loved every moment. I didn’t lead her on and she’ll be glad I fucked off, I reckon.

Filed under: Drinking, Friends, Girls, Happy, Home, Reality, Sex, Strangers, Women, Youth, about me, bed, music, nights out, the novel, writing , about me, bed, Bluebird, Drinking, liverpool, Magpie, neon, night out, Sex, shaving, sleep, Strangers, Toucans, train, travelodge, TurtleDove, Women