Kumquat

I was supposed to be writing but was distracted by the array of infused oils, local cheeses and Moroccan spices being delivered to my kitchen. A fine way to wake, stumbling into an Aladdin's cave of produce, dripping with sea water, covered in dirt and smelling of a thousand great things but so many fuckin boxes to open.

I spoke to "her" yesterday, the cats mother, about Pippy and when she should come and live with me. It was a point which faded to the background. It was our first conversation in months but our first real one this year, last year we were so much more than the little we were today, but that little was good. I left a part of my heart and soul in a basement flat in peckham with Pippy on guard protecting the parts I need to love again. I feel cold without them. I feel like a clown with frozen tears - stored for another day/week/another time maybe.
I stare into the skin of a Kumquat trying to work out if I can really do without Star Anise and wondering if i will ever be the same again.

"It feels like home"

It sits next to a nunnery, behind an old peoples home and a few plots up from a park with crazy golf and an athletics stone throw away from the neon of consumerism. It is my home sat on the border of new and old somewhere outside Oxfordshire. Its the kind of place where a shark hangs out of the roof of a local house, hosts a reputable theatre, festival and farmers market.
People talk instead of ignore and are curious not recluse. Loneliness is becoming a hard to find commodity once more but a simple ramble and it just opens up before me - sprawling spring greens as far as the eye can see. Mr Nobody is still so. An anonymous shadow behind the service door but with apple ketchup and Thai scallops on the menu a smile starts to form and with the arrival of Pippy - my ice-skating kitten that smile begins to be pinned once more.

Caterpillars

I like them and she did to. Where the sense was. Nobody knows.

Its A Monday

It seems its true about people in the east of London. They have their clocks and watches set ten minutes behind the rest of London. Its going to cause terrible chaos with the Olympic games but perhaps they will be made to change. I am not going to imply they are backward after all my coffee is good and non-branded, the strokes fill the air and for a brief moment in time I feel like myself. Altogether somewhere backward. Waiting fo something to happen.

Careless Whisper 2

Careless Whisper now floats in through the window I must close and once again today I feel ten. I just need dallas, snooker and the smell of ironing and everything will be complete.

Careless Whisper

Careless Whisper floats through the cold and empty black prince road and with big ben chiming in the distance its hard noto to feel weird.

Saturday Morning

I spent most of my Saturday morning masturbating and smoking instead of going to work. 

It just beats a fourteen hour shift and serving hundreds of breakfasts. 

I'm getting too old for this shit.

Handstands

I wasn't sure what to do with my morning so I did handstands in the living room until I went dizzy. No time at all, a mere ten minutes and it took me twenty to recover,

Cockroach

Crawling across my keyboard in an internet cafe down a back street in Soho. Immature and non-threatening it was hardly the horror story I always thought it would be. My first cockroach. I watched it scurry about for a few minutes with sirens wailing behind me and the chatter of a score of different nationalities around me, wondering, if any of them like me have just seen their first cockroach.

Secrets & Lies

"The truth is like the sun, its benefit is entirely dependent on our distance from it"