I am feeling swept over by a girl
probably half my age, not much more
a good energy; beautiful, likeable, strong
and so far, completely uninterested in me!
I approached her, …… is her name, she is R.....,
which I have to admit I rarely get along with,
I just don’t seem to trust them at all,
but this is not the point today.
Today, I question my motives.
It’s all too desperate to be true.
Been around this game with myself before;
How I like to kid myself ‘she may be the one’.
How we like to play with that mirage of the self.
Project out of us, and she reflects back from the world
a perfection.
That no girl could hope to live up to.
But, how long have I waited for the one,
that could move me closest to the ultimate essence?
How long have I waited for the one
who I could trust to overwhelm me with beauty, inside and out?
Who I would know to be true, and trust not to one day steal away with
the gemstone of my soul.

Today, I don’t mind.
I revel in it, because,
I know I won’t get to bask in light such as hers for much longer.
It’s just an echo of a past I once might have owned.
Charged down, masculine and powerful, into the fray to win her heart.
Oh, to win her heart and not be
just an echo, of who I once was.
Having instead to accept who I am, and who I am not.
Who I can, and who I cannot ever be.
Letting go of that hunger and longing.
Letting go of what now, I see, was only ever going to be
a need, an imbalance, a vacuum, an emptiness I longed for to fill.

I watch now the projection, as it shines from her skin:
The shape of her hips, the curve of her breasts, the gentle arch of her back.
Her hair long and golden, her scent alluring, dreamy, sexual and sensual.
Her movements, everything I ever wanted her to be.
Yes, she bears it well, my goddess, my princess, my love.
The urge to be in love.
Ha!
I had forgotten.
It has been such a long, long time.

She took another life last night,
my goddess, the ocean.
I stood out on the sands watching the search lights cover the water
Maybe a shark, I thought.
The rip was too calm to have taken him out of the bay so fast.
Yea, maybe a shark.
Someone asked me what had happened.
I looked at the scene and looked back at them. I resisted saying it was a lost dog.
Then I saw his friend.
Sat on a surfboard, the police with dimmed torch lights on his face, asking him questions.
I moved a little closer. Saw his eyes. The confusion, the uncertainty, the disbelief.
Life.
No one expected it to be taken away from us.
And worse.
Taken away from our friends.
That hurt more.
The air thudded as the metal bird flew closer
Lights scanned across the beach and for a moment we lit up
Like a scene from some tragedy,
Always the voyeurs and the vampires in the wings.
The shadow self
Beating a parallel tale
To the story of our lives.
Our heart beats
That so soon to stop
Unexpectedly
And be dragged away
Under the water
By her servants, and soldiers,
Her angels and devils of the deep
Sharks and those fish with jet black eyes
Death, so hollow,
So fearful
So abhorrent, it is everything we are not.
She took another life last night,
My goddess, the ocean.
A sacrifice so that we all might live to worship her another day.
He was 29 years old. Made just a small paragraph in the news.
No one very much knew
That he was gone at all.
He left a bicycle, a surfboard and a friend
who would always remember
That moment on a beach somewhere,
in some unfamiliar country, in some unfamiliar time, in some unfamiliar life
When he woke up to a moment
And how much
that moment really hurt.

'Can I have your number?' I asked her.

She mumbled something about not being in the right place for that at this time. her eyes were on the ground. her feet fidgeting, I could almost see perspiration on her brow. she avoided my eyes. I stopped listening. looked over her shoulder, I could still see her lips move but wasnt paying attention as she went into some kind of unconscious drama. I stood still as I could, politely waiting for it to complete.

'....its not that I dont like you...'

New surfboards out in the shop across the road. I tried to make out the label but it was hard from that distance.

'...my last boyfriend.....'

I was running out of things to look at and my eyes came back to her but she was finishing up.

'um...oh....a I have to go talk to a friend of mine who just came in, bye.'

It was all quite amusing, amazing, disturbing even. I tried to remember the last time someone had gone to quite such lengths to say everything but what they were really thinking. Though I wasnt sure quite what that might have been. I had asked for her number, to go for a drink, so see if we got on, if we could be friends, and who knows, maybe later lovers, I genuinely hadnt thought much past the fact that she appealed to me on some level. I guess that was the extent of my thinking in asking. I now kind of wished I hadnt bothered.

For her. Had I just asked to molest her, or get married?

rejection.

I didnt mind it.

but the lengths people go to avoid making you feel it. yet all along I felt it anyway, dragged out like a slow death. Maybe a simple 'no' would have a been a lot easier on both of us. I was left simply intrigued as to what was wrong with the way that had just played out and why I had caused such a reaction. I had little idea what it was and I was never likely to know.

I had a friend who used to stare at girls until they would come over and demand he explain what he was staring at, at which point he would say -
'I was imagining what you would look like bent over with my prick up your ass'
I recall the first time I heard him say it, and was waiting for hell to break loose, mind you he was a big guy, but she just huffed and turned and walked off.
20 minutes later she left with him. I never quite understood that. Actually , maybe I did.

I looked back over at her, she was talking animatedly but I noticed she was putting little glances over at me. I guess to see if I was still looking. I was never any good at Game, I just blurted out what I thought, cut to the chase. It was honest if nothing else. I hoped so at least. I wasnt even sure I was interested in playing, wasnt interested in anything other than some company at some future time. I wasnt looking for a lay or a girlfriend. I didnt think so but you never really knew what the mind was up to on the lower levels.

I looked around the room. It was late, another night done and dusted. I would go home alone. I didnt mind, there was something easier about it. I left into the street, pleasingly sober, I liked that. Walked past a bar, people falling out of it ugly drunk. It wasnt pretty and I recalled something someone had said to me earlier that day

'If insects disappeared off the planet life would be gone in less than 50 years, but if Mankind disappeared off the planet, it would thrive'

I walked to the bus, stepped over a drunk, dodged a fight, eyed a bit of skirt headed for the clubs in town, got on the bus and wondered why nature let us stay in her heart as long as she had. Maybe we were good for something, but to be honest, I couldnt see what it was.

Its a funny old game.

Here I am watching the weekend begin amazed I am alive, It IS FUCKING AMAZING.

just another day, and yet...

breathing. what is breathing all about.

I sat there this morning reading through my diaries of school days, nearly finished now, nearly ready I am not sure what for. Of a time when I was supposed to take a scholarship to Harrow and ended up. well to be honest, getting truly fucked by some bad experiences and then seeing the machine, the truth, and of course dropping out.
I ended up in Harrow anyway, by the fates.
Used to sit on the hill, where Byron used to wile away the hours. I felt him there, felt the kin-ship there, the ghost. I would watch the sun set over West England, London. See the planes rising from Heathrow into the pink, red sky.
Knowing one day I would be on one of those and never return.

And yet today, watching the sun rise in Bondi, I recalled it so powerfully that the Hill pulled me back and for a moment I was there. It made me jump. That is the power. The earth, the magic of some places.

Did you know the first ever car crash in England happened on that hill, did you know the first ever train crash victim is buried in the little church on that hill, did you know that hill is the highest point between there and the mountains in Urals all the way across to the East. And there are other things too. strange things about that hill.

I know magic, I have lived it, I have walked it and I walk it now. deeper each day but with more clarity too. I thought it was madness I was bound for but now I realise it is something else.

As I step across the wet sand and feel the power of the female goddess that is out there in the oceans in Bondi. I know stuff. fucking weird stuff sometimes. But I know. I see. I am a seer. that's just how it is. just who I am. Byron would have been proud.

Yea, I see it now. I graduated from Harrow like I was supposed to, maybe the streets of Harrow not the school, but in some little way it happened that I gained knowledge there, on that hill and then, like I knew I would, I began to fly.