Tuesday, 7 September 2010
Kaleidoscope
Despite a deep down feeling, a knowing almost that my path was defined, I have struggled with that definite. I have tried to run away from the end stop, the halfway house, the hostel - old and lonely, decaying and dismissive.
A ladder, a path, a journey or a voyage, however you view life I have never been able to shake that feeling I am certainly not alone in this. I am not the only Mr Nobody. I am not the only one that cannot maintain relationships, I am not the only one who doesn’t want children. I am not the only one with ideas of grandeur or delusions of insanity. I am not the only one that struggles. I always wanted this blog to be from that perspective whilst in reality it hasn’t been. It was a mourning to a life I thought I was entitled to just because love entered my life. A divine right that was never real from the start. Spinning and twining my misery around an event, a moment of time, so brief and fleeting that it would hardly make a decent chapter in a book. Becoming further and further isolated from what life was actually about and that was always something, mostly anything more than I had.
What I always had was a gutter perspective of the world with the better days being at street level and whilst I stand by the fact I don’t believe people can fundamentally change, times do though, as do perspectives and it only seems right to move home both literally and within the digital world.
They say you always come home, and home is where I am, slapped right bang in the middle of suburbia. With kittens playing at my feet the crinkle of the leather sofa brings about a wave of contentment never felt before and the need to start writing and creating from a different perspective. One with a little bit more light than darkness and actual documents of work rather than half scraped together thoughts and extracts. It is all work in progress as is the life of My Nobody and will be ready soon. The Red bubble photos are a start of a life from that different perspective. A teaser. A trailer. A pre cursor to something hopefully better.
Watch this space.
Saturday, 1 May 2010
Purple
So this would be a fond farewell to a person I have known and loved and loathed over the last decade. There are those of you that know me, have known me or think that you know me that read this, check in with it, to see if perhaps I am still alive, still disillusioned, lost or unhappy. Perhaps to see if things would change. There are those massive regrets, the lows and the loves lost and thrown away, there has also been a lot I have blamed myself for and failed to look past the end of my own nose maybe into the direction of somewhere else. Things change. People don’t. We find ourselves though or lose ourselves more. We settle or accept contentment. Happiness being more a marketing gimmick that an actual destination. As a feeling it has its merits.
It is literally the light I see blinding me each day reminding me of the progress, evolution and eventual endpoint. Mr Nobody is no more and a somebody is forming in the distance.
To be continued.......
Saturday, 14 November 2009
?
A slow suicide diet of codeine, beer and weed is not what the doctor ordered and nor a healthy way of living. Trapped once again when I thought I was free. How ironic and the new kitten keeps smashing glasses which is not good for my temprement. Oh sweet winter. Oh sweet Woolstone. What the fuck next?
Thursday, 24 September 2009
Mr Nobody
I care about the wrong things.
I take joy in problems and chaos and forget what it is that I have until it is always too late. It somehow does not feel too late. It feels about the right time.....
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Mr RAF
I really want to tell my boss to go fuck himself as I know inevitably he is only going to do the same to me. It’s not an engrained paranoia but more a simple and cold business reality and business has always been a grimy place to be, so many lies hidden within those pinstripes. I feel as if I am a puppet, much the same as most I guess, but most, do not have their boss peering through the window or knocking on the door, most do not have to put up with mood swings that should only be attributed to severe menstruation or crystal meth addiction not that of a pub landlord. Once again his simple presence has left me with a dirty feeling that I am finding hard to shift, that slimy feeling of spending too much time near or around those that are directly responsible for paying my salary. At times, especially now, I feel no more than the salt whore I am, clutching the grains between my clenched fingers, hanging on for dear life hoping not to lose any but just like water eventually they all disappear, what is left is barely enough to season my chips.
My secret drawer is becoming fuller, close to overflowing with the evidence of my sins, torn and ripped, plastic and empty and resembling that of the monster it has become than the drawer it always has been. It’s endemic of this situation I find myself in, perhaps a case of borrowed time. As usual it may seem just waiting to be screwed and fucked over once more, protection pointless, wasted, a bore of ones time, living, pretending, hoping that things will get better.
I find myself miserably lost within the mis-management of others in such a small environment that means I am mis-managed and feel like a sheep without a flock. I wait for a degree of normal, rational decision making to take hold but instead each horrible incident is followed by another of even bigger magnitude. My boss who is completely oblivious to the fact that at times he is very bad at his job makes decisions that make my life uncomfortable at best and currently untenable and almost a severance is necessary. I sit and lose myself within the magic of the remastered copy of Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles wishing for a simpler time and one in where I had followed the music rather than this humble and shallow existence. I try to fit in but no matter how hard I try I simply do not want to.
Monday, 31 August 2009
Freemans Close
I find myself lost within marvel recently delighted by the choruses that remind me of a band I still love and a memory long ago, in a borderline like club, the bright lights and neon for the first time, the bite stuck and forever I am drawn to the neon, tacky and overcrowded that it is. Billy Talent sound very much like Ether should have been, both as an overstated and ambitious authour, are highly recommended, as is the corner house with conservatory in a village that absorbs your pain and provides flowers and good mornings. It has been a near three week stint working every day in a hell hole I proudly call mine and a five months that has stretched my patience and resolve every day to the limits and still all I can think about is that flower and Pippy. I do wonder, whether that symbol, was much more, or whether it was simply a kitten and with "house full signs" up at Battersea I think, and I do think too much that it is time to return for a forage around, a rustle and a stir. To see what lies dormant and what is still active and to find a new Pippy and perhaps the missing jigsaw piece to content and soothe when a winter batters and the winter will batter, the senses, the mind, control and motivation, the winter is always one of discontent but in all fairness perhaps at least winter will live up to its billing this year, spring stunted by snow, summer seemingly over by the start of June, autumn, well I can see that being consumed by Summer spreading itself a little more thinly, a warm October hopefully. It is a ramble. That makes sense to me, as its a vent. You are secret. Perhaps.......