Wednesday, May 23, 2012


I'm sleeping in a junk yard and breathing in mold.
The crazy hits and then it hits again.
 I want to be in free fall. Falling free.
Gravity's got a hold, pulling me closer than most. Affectionate embrace, clamped to the ground. I haven't seen the sun in days. Haven't tasted in days. Haven't slept in days. No wait, that's all I do in days. Haven't slept in nights. There are caves in this bed, there's a world in this bed, I could live a lifetime in this bed. If I get up in the dark there's no one around. Haven't spoken in days. Haven't changed my clothes in days, they are growing close up to my skin, like these sheets, close to my body. Welcome to my lair, welcome to my animal home, sit your bones in that corner, burrow down in that corner, hide your heart in that corner. Sit with me, sit, still, still, stiller.
There is more life growing in that bowl, than I hold in my body.

Monday, May 21, 2012


Getting to the point where it's hard again. And it's all hard. The not being there, the being there and feeling like I've come home, the thought of never coming home again.
It's scary, when the continuation of "things that are good" relies on someone else.
When you could walk through the door one day and find that they've had it, they're tired, they're bored, you're too much work, too much effort.
Of course my life as a single person was still good, and would be again. A myriad of things belong to just me.
It's just scary.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Excerpt From A Much Neglected Journal

Having one of those maybe I've been talking out loud all day, days. Instead of thinking.
I do hope not. Because otherwise, when I was running late this morning I told the old dear who stopped to wish the bus driver a Very Happy Easter, to "get the fuck off the bus so we can move already'.
(I told Jude about this, she seemed shocked. Probably it's not always best to let our loved ones in on the inner working of our minds.)
The back of the-girl-in-front-of-me's head is perfect.
She has the hair I wish I had. Close cropped curls bob.
But it's been two hours now. And I think I can see the grease, seeping through from her scalp.
Close cropped curls getting heavier and darker. Stiff.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012


Today I miss my girlfriend and my kitty, and my goodness I'm tired.
I had the strangest, most unsettling dreams last night. I won't tell you about them because other people's dreams are never very interesting "and then all of a sudden I wasn't in space, but I was still wearing my space suit.." etc. But they were intermingled with strains of Bon Iver. I thought this was odd. But it turns out my laptop was just on and singing to itself.
Bus trips leave me exhausted. Two per week are too much. But two weeks away from home feels so long.
I get lonely. And low.
I went for a walk tonight and thought about how beautiful this city is in the rain. The streetlights smudge into the night, and the light spills across the wet cement and bounces back to illuminate, just everything.
This was meant to be the most exciting thing, moving back to the city that's always felt like home.
It's vibrant, and busy, and unique.
I took some photos the other day to remind myself, but I've lost my phone, so that doesn't really help much.
I know that if I let it, this environment will stretch me and fill me up. It will help me to become the person I think I want to be.
I think. But some days, some hours, today, this minute, all I want to be is... is--
Is a someone with a blanket, and a purring white cat, reading in bed while my love sleeps beside me.