Monday, 23 August 2010

I'm thinking about writing, about the words on the page, black ink on off white. 80gsm, maybe more. Running the bath. Sitting on the edge, just starting at the white tiled walls. Tempted by the water around my toes. The cool ceramic. And the phone rings, and I'm listening to the ring, just listening. Ring.

Staring now at a the condensation on the mirror. The buds of the Peace Lilly. And something like twenty minutes pass and I'm just sitting in silence in front of a bath of water. Just sitting. Staring.

Friday, 13 August 2010

I'm sitting, kind of, staring at a blank screen. And I can't put in to word what I want to say. And the only thing resonating in my head are the six words I said perhaps three or for times today.

'It's good to see you again'

And really it was. But I wish, in a way, that I didn't see you at all, because now I want to see you all the time. Tomorrow, Sunday, next week.

It's weird to think of all shit that's happened in the two, three years since we were last together. And it surreal to think of who you're with now. And I can't really explain it.

And maybe I'm just over analysing.

Wednesday, 4 August 2010

I'm staring at the line up of pills that I've been prescribed, listening to clock ticking in the hallway, the washing machine in the utility, the traffic on the Triangle.

Right now I'm thinking about cancelling it all. My current contracts, future contracts, my apartment tenancy, flights to Berlin, various social networking websites, this website, licences, utility bills, enrolments, memberships, flights to London, Brisbane, Paris.

And in my head this summer played out completely differently to what it has. A minute hand ticks over to three pm, a cathedral bell chimes somewhere in the city and the bright sun is tinted by Wayfarers. A girl is drinking Cider from a bottle, whilst the guys throw a Rugby Ball around the green. A train is pulling into Lime Street Station. People are letting, subletting houses, rooms, weekends in various cities over the country. A young girl skips past. Birds fly in the flared sky. The waves crash on a familiar beach. A Car is stuck between the dunes of another. The familiar smell of country side, of trees, the common.

And yet none of this has happened. Nothing.