clinging to the wreckage

  The cat lies flat on top of the forlorn jeep in the car park… awaiting my arrival (at least, this is what I believe) with a bowl of food that I place beside the jeep. The cat gazes into my eyes for a moment or two and then elegantly descends from the jeep to the bowl and begins to eat. Once satisfied, she strolls across the car park and leaps up into the comfort of her favourite truck where she will sleep until the heat drives her to a cooler place. My duties done, I sip a cup of coffee and read before setting out for a short jog. The heat launches an assault, and I am grateful to be jogging on a heavily shaded path. Endurance is not there yet, I only survive twenty minutes before heading directly to the pool where I swim for ten minutes before showering and feeling entitled to laze a while and write and read and listen to music… all of the things that ground me, all of the things that make life seem worth living.            ...

  It’s 3am and once again I lie awake. Nightmares shattered the realms of reality with death and flying axes… the ending of things. And yet, 3am is peaceful even though my thoughts try to dismantle that peace. My thoughts of the relentless heat of Dallas, the homeless cat that I care for which must suffer through this heat… and all the other animals and humans who, for various reasons, are exposed to these conditions. Most of us take for granted the ability to heat our cool our homes, some do not have such luxury. Soon, the sun will rise and deconstruct the dark night.                     I lift myself to take a short jog before the heat becomes unbearable. On the way, I drop a pair of flip flops at the pool so that I can go directly to swim upon my return. Last night I discovered I had left my favourite flip flops in the office, so I decided to take a walk and pick them up. A sweet colleague ...

  The ice cubes clinked in the glass as I poured a Jack Daniels and Coke. England had beaten the Democratic Republic of Congo in the world cup, but it was stressful. Fifteen minutes away from elimination and acts of individual brilliance saved the day. Later that day the USA beat Bosnia-Herzegovina. But that was yesterday… now I have a headache. A headache caused by people who just don’t want a calm life, they actively pursue conflict. And so, once more, pixels on page, the new pen on paper, become my companions. The cursor dances before me and lies in wait for the night to bring a lack of restraint. It is July 2 nd and we are on the cusp of a long weekend. However, my network is primarily European, and no one really cares about a holiday in America. It’s also ironic that this holiday celebrates American independence from Great Britain and it's former King. Here I am, a British American, a dual citizen, living in a country currently worried about a new kind of controlling king… on...

  I woke up at 05:30, prepared a bowl of food for the homeless cat that refuses to come inside, took a short walk along the lake in my flip flops, and returned directly to the pool for a swim. By 06:45 I was showered, dressed, had a cup of coffee, and began to work. However, these days, the thought of freedom haunts and taunts me. The cat is a living example of what many of us should probably aim to do in life: forego comfort for freedom. We become slaves of our salaries. I have saved and invested well, I am secure, and yet I remain devoted to my income because I want to continue to build. Not to be super wealthy, just to seek financial independence. No job required. Having said that… therein lies the problem; why not just do it now and take the risks, but the beautiful freedom, that come with this?   With time zone differences and massive amounts of activity, I often find myself in meetings at 7am or earlier. When these meetings, back to back, end around 11am, I start to work...

  The pool shimmers in the blinding brightness and causes hallucinatory reactions in the intense heat. I open the blinds and look down, but all I see is light… rippling rays of light. There are noises erupting from people down below, so I close the blinds and listen to Shattered Faith  by Bad Religion, it plays from the Marshall speaker in my bedroom, one of my greatest purchases. I have two of them, one in the living room, one in the bedroom; Marshall Acton III. In my bathroom I have a smaller one, a waterproof battery operated one that I use to listen to music whilst I am in the shower. I cannot live without music and literature. Reading about Rimbaud’s A Season in Hell made me think of Slayer and their Seasons in the Abyss . Now I listen to Slayer, but I was in the mood for South of Heaven , so that is the album I am playing. I love the way that the opening track, the title track, bleeds into the second track, Silent Scream . South of Heaven was one of the very first CDs ...

  A voice from Spain booms from my speaker. We exchange messages about life and relationships. For so many years we, as humans, live in the naivety and ignorance of youth and then, suddenly, time catches up and people around us start to disappear or die. So often, when this happens, we have left the relationship in a bad way, it ends in an open and unfinished silence. However, that is life. We enter with hopes, ambitions, and dreams… then we often just ride a wave and hope for the best. The ones we look at and consider to be the most successful, the most in control, are often the ones with tremendous secrets and unfathomable depths of pain.                     I walked to the office, grateful to be able to go and see people and share some discussions. A colleague told me about some of the work he was doing with airlines and payment systems, and it was fascinating. The Korean sisters running th...