clinging to the wreckage

Inevitably, they all fade into nothingness in her presence. There must be a queen… an immortal… a goddess and she will claim her throne without challenge. The others plays games and live in fear and paranoia whilst the goddess simply exists in the knowledge of her absolute power. In her strength lies her beauty and, as for the rest of us, there is simple hopelessness. For, in longing for the queen, there is immense pain… but there is an even greater misery in the knowledge that obtaining the queen would only result in being devoured whole, heart and soul. There is no lasting happiness or joy in anything. Immense pleasure burns out rapidly and is replaced with a greater suffering.   There is no escape and our empty search for happiness is ultimately futile.

Formidable in French and not in English I long for you and wish I was in Nantes not in this empty room surrounded by the debris of yesterday and my haunting thoughts thinking of the songs that you gave to me. is there any significance at all? the one person I really don’t believe in is me and so I try to write a letter but it is futile each line stumbles across the page and I imagine the look on your face as you read in horror Formidable I miss you already four more days of seeing you and then we both leave to go our separate ways.

I suppose, when we see an ambulance pull up outside, paramedics rushing from it, we can only feel something akin to relief that it is not for us. But the irony is that I pour a beer and feel like I can’t go on reading this book. It feels more and more like the final chapter, a chapter that is too long, and I don’t even want to know the ending. The silly gossip that exists everywhere drags me down and the questions I’m asked about a person infuriate me; a person I care for deeply regardless of her condition or her behaviour. As for her, a lengthy silence was broken yesterday and this filled me with great delight. It was as if the light had finally returned after a prolonged spell of darkness. We shared tea and tales and songs… ‘we were wonderful… you were wonderful… I was pathetic.’ It’s sad to know that you won’t be around for a few days but it’s not the first time someone I have loved has disappeared into silent retreat. In fact, it is a constantly recurring ...

Waiting for a stranger in a strange place with a strange smell and the thing that strikes me is human frailness, human weakness... I see no strength in people including myself and I want to reach out to the tragic and console them and cry for all the bad things we've done and seen and have had done to us.             The stranger arrives and looks more beautiful than I remembered. The thoughts of weakness and suffering temporarily depart and we make our way, like young lovers in love, to a restaurant. I feel a sense of amazement that she has come to my part of the city… we’ve only met once and she trusts me enough to come to my area. Her confidence overwhelms me as she speaks out powerfully to everyone and anyone she encounters. She requests things that normally people would not request… two courses at the same time… she is tiny, beautiful, and fierce. She is fourteen years younger than me, speaks three lan...

I stood on the balcony at the party, surrounded by doctors and surgeons… they were all speaking Spanish, and I looked over into the abyss below… a beautiful abyss of trees and plants, and I wanted to hurl myself head first into it to escape it all… but then I thought ‘one of these cunts will probably save me and I’ll be crippled for life.’             Thoughts were haunting me… the thoughts of every woman I’d loved and how they all eventually walked away in silence and stopped talking. How most of the relationships initially, eventually, permanently broke some form of moral boundary. How now it seems that everyone I meet says I’m too old or that they are involved. And, what’s more, the thought that, ultimately, it’s better to be alone because relationships are restrictive and only result in disappointment and either pain or boredom mixed with a longing for freedom. I thought of the one with the famous author’...

Illness and extreme fatigue set in after night upon night of drinking until the early hours of the morning and then getting up a few hours later to go to work. But after ten or eleven hours of sleep I feel somewhat human again and today we shall try it all again. My colleague said to me ‘we are partying with doctors and surgeons, so it is going to be okay to test the limits.’             Regardless of it all, I see a disastrous waste in the things that people do. The futility of it all. The constant struggle as people strive to find love and happiness and that perfect job and home and car… all the while time marches on relentlessly and old age creeps up. Turning around it appears that everyone is young and if we are still single and childless at 40, no one can understand it. Young women reject it and express their desire to have children and to get married.         ...

Spectacular is the one word I would use to describe her. I am hopeless in her presence. I want to see nor hear nor speak to any other human. I am consumed, engulfed, inflamed… I am in trouble beyond anything I have known for quite some time. The consequences are severe. And yet how is one to resist such a majestic work of art?

Very few countries recognise an individual's right to drink their self to death... America is possibly the only one left... this is why it feels like a home to me.

A tea bag offered out of the blue Stretched out in the hand of a goddess Described as ‘disgusting’ But any gift from a goddess cannot be so And oddly, upon arrival at home, I thought of how you kissed my penis In apology for hurting it During those frantic moments of passion And jesus wept for what it was he saw you do for your inability to remain true now I offer myself to almost anyone but not physically, only mentally. Yet back to the goddess She is the only one I want She is all at this moment She is ALL!

In the Spanish heat… the pressures and anxieties of life… her Frenchness opened up and consumed me whole. I was swallowed and unable to return to a life before I had met her, a life where thoughts were of ordinary banalities and trivialities. This was an all-engulfing flame and I was burning in its ferocity. And yet, now, I sit here in this quiet room and suffer a deep sense of sadness and despair. I feel like everything is out of reach. I feel like I have done nothing good. The cats I cared for for all of those years are now alone and abandoned in a shelter. The people I love are distant and silent and involved. My parents live on the other side of the world and feel neglected. There is something in my blood and yet I do not fear death, I greet it and I shake its hand. When I am gone my parents will grieve and the others will say ‘oh, that guy, yes, I had a drink with him once’ and they will turn to their partners and ask what they should have for dinner.

The inevitable silence sets in. I know, I know, it’s terrifying when somebody likes you and there is no alternative but to remain silent and hope that they go away. I’ll go away very soon, please don’t worry.             But, on other topics, it is funny that people try to be negative about my lifestyle. I am nearly forty and I’m travelling and meeting new people and going out to spectacular places and doing extraordinary things. People sit at home in their little flat in some shithole in Britain with their husband and forty four children and try to make a mockery of my life. Don’t be jealous just because I’m having more fun… there was a reason I said no when you wanted children you fucking idiot.