Blog no. 2 - Impressive Layering

This is for me

I woke up. One of those mornings. Had to be about 5am. It's now 6.39am

Can't sleep. Heart was beating fast and my thoughts were racing too fast to keep up

I was thinking and repeating to myself some of my thoughts

and I thought I was mad, because you know, it would keep me awake longer.
How I want to sleep.

This week, as far as booze goes, it's gonna have to be a quiet one. I want some time off.

I actually didn't want to drink - I could tell on my second one.

I don't understand alcoholism. I'd die if I made myself drink all the time. Like now... I couldn't picture craving alcohol. The thought of it makes me ill

I would rather get some sleep and a regular pattern going again. Though this is just one night's sleep missed, I don't want to miss any more

I was just thinking - it felt like dreaming, but I knew I was awake. I hate those nights where I cannot tell the difference. I want to lie down and try again but I'm afraid I won't be able to sleep and then stress out - and fixate - that there's something wrong with me.

but at least if I do, I'll quietly acknowledge the thought

I'll try.

One more day, one more survival.

I'm tough as shit

Blog No.1 - The BIG One

this is for me.

it's not for anyone but me. Essentially, I'm talking to myself and that's just the way i want it.

I haven't been feeling well today. I don't know why. My mood has just taken a dive.

I often wondered would people understand me if I tried to explain it. So I always pretended to be the opposite

The Great Pretender - That's me

but I'm scared and I always have been

I don't want to blame anyone on it. I could say "My Da wasn't there to protect me" or "My brothers picked on me" but none of that means anything because I wouldn't be where I am now in a sense if it was any other way.

To be honest, whether they did pick on me or not, I still would have been sensitive

I used to cry for no reason

Now my mind says "you used to cry for no reason! you cannot concentrate! - Schizophrenia!"

I'm really afraid of Schizophrenia. I'm afraid of losing my mind, dividing my mind or developing a split personality and other things I don't understand

Me and my mind are at a stalemate these days. Well, it's not that I'm disagreeable with it, it's just that my emotions are fucked up. If I get so much as a pang of feeling bad, I start to believe that thought - no matter how ridiculous. I'm smart that way... I can outsmart myself.

This is the worst thing ever for me. I get good days and bad days. At the worst I'm afraid of stupid shit - schizophrenia, hurting a friend or killing someone or abusing children. I'm scared shitless of these things. Like I very much am against all of them. Everything that constitutes my principles I'm afraid of slipping into

My only way to reason it is; "I never have. I come from a big family, I've been around children since I was 10. That's never happened and it doesn't happen and so as well as I know myself (My emotions betray me, you see and I get "distracted") I never will. I'm also a very dignified and highly moralist and principled person. I care what others think of me (to a fault) so it wouldn't stand to my character or best interests to do that kind of thing. Also, When i see a sickly, disfigured, handicapped or crippled person (I make no apologies for using these words) I usually feel deep empathy for them. So how would I ever hurt or kill someone?"

See, I'm at war with myself. All my best friends know this. I am currently making a concentrated effort to fucking chill out. I'm seeing a cognitive therapist for the last year and a half. I also quit Facebook because I didn't like to stylise myself or pander to others. What I want - WANT is to relax, take a back seat. Go home and take it easy. Eat what I want without guilt. Drink whenever I want etc

And in the back of my mind and old friend "Oh Matthew (NOBODY calls me by that name any more!) you're not drinking AGAIN?" "Oh, you should watch your intake" (I know they mean well, but I don't fucking need OR WANT their suggestions) and it rings out all the time. My brother calling me FAT KID which affects how I view my body image to this day. I run and walk to stay thin and drink alone. Yeah, so what. I don't want friends who criticize, even constructively; because I do it myself way too much.

I consciously choose friends who don't argue or dispute my lifestyle now because fuck off, that's why. Sick of it. Sick of pandering, sick of being too nice and understanding and fucking sick of viewing myself through anyone else's eyes. It's fucking with my head. No wonder I feel like I'm losing my mind - afraid of an illness I don't understand.

It's true: My brothers and sisters never knew how sensitive I was. neither do any of my friends, though they think something isn't right. But I fucking know. And it's this: Sensitivity. I WILL take on what you tell me and I will over think it. I will swirl it around my head until it makes me ill then I won't keep your company any more because you won't stop trying to give me advice or comments I didn't ask for or ever want. You know I love you guys, but fuck off. I now have to keep you at reasonable distance.

My brother says I bury my head - I say, I know how much bullshit I can take and I've had it up to here. There IS no more room. Sorry! You want help with your problems boys and girls? Office hours are closed. I stay away because I won't be able to help myself.

Remember, the key word is "Sensitive".

Nobody I get close to seems to understand what i want to give away, I never ask for return advice. How I look is incidental: I'm usually thin when depressed and normal size when happy. If I want to talk to you about an insecurity it's NOT for feedback - I just want someone to listen.

If you want a friend or sibling you can offload your advice/criticism on; it's not me.

at the best of times these days, I am on super high alert. My attention is way too high. I watch for flickers, I look for signs in speech and insinuation. God damn I am on high alert. It happened about 2 years ago and hasn't left my system yet. I have a lit fuse that won't go out. When it's like that, I stay away because I'm volatile: not prone to blow up on you; prone to do it on myself. I need head-space and TLC and I need someone to just be there... to listen, to my madness, my theories, my vents, my ideas. Not to tell me I drink too much (I fucking know I do) Not to tell me the stupid shit I don't want to hear. Not to mold me into their perfect friend. Just to be there. I'm tired. I may be sick, but I still have my wits about me, my paranoia under a microscope on FULL zoom (just in case I might be over-analyzing something, some one or some situation, or maybe believing in Jesus or Heaven or some shit) and ready to get that shit out before it burns a hole in my brain.

But these emotions. Guys; if you want to help, listen and shut up for a bit. Let me say my mad shit and feel relaxed so I don't turn it on myself. I might even help you.

I'm tired.

4.46am

I suffer immensely

I don't know what the cause of it is. There's a horrible pain that shoots through me, involuntarily.

It's not physical pain though. Maybe you would consider that I do not suffer like someone with, say, M.S does, because, though they are physically incapacitated, they still have the desire to get up and move about, if they could.

That is a fair assumption for them to make and I understand it. I know a lot of physically incapable people who would love the capacity to achieve more in their lives.

But my pain is not physical. It Feels like it.

It's emotional pain and it's Very real. I feel it. It's Not my imagination.

I'd so very much like to be able to explain to people; "Here, this is my problem and this is what it does to me". I'd like them to know, but somehow I feel that it would be like looking for attention.

I'd just like people to know how I suffer and that it's like some form of twisted addiction because when it goes away, I occasionally, involuntarily seek it out again. I notice it's gone or it's presence is easing off, then I think into it and it comes around again.

It comes around like a bad habit. And I still don't know what it is, why I have it and why it keeps haunting me.

But I really do suffer. And I deserve to be able to relay this

I'll wake up say, like tonight, after about 3 hours sleep and it just sits in my chest and hurts and hurts and takes all my attention away until I think my way inside it, believing everything due to the high emotional response it gives me, like a drug. It then wraps around me like a strait-jacket and i wrestle to get out but cannot.

Actually, that's an incorrect analogy. It's more like quick-sand.

The more I struggle with it, the harder it is to get out of it.

Yeah, It's more like emotional quick-sand.

Sometimes I think "I'll never get away from this, it's my dark passenger" (Thanks, Dexter!). Others, it's gone and I wonder where it's gone and when it'll come back. I'll think of something horrible that draws huge emotional response and then BAM, it's right back in me again. But mostly, it just happens and Then I'll think of horrible stuff.

And I so much want everyone to know I suffer with it immensely. I want them to know it happens to me and I have no control over when it comes and goes. It's shaped my personality into one of understanding any painful situation just because I feel so much personal pain that I really can sympathise or empathise with any emotional drama going on in a person's life. I understand pain very well.

but yet I cannot do it. I keep it to myself and act like nothing is wrong. I trap it inside me.

And sometimes I feel trapped inside with it. I feel trapped in my body MY TEMPLE with something I don't want, in here with me and I so very much want to escape, but I cannot. It's an inexplicable sensation.

So I would like this story, this page to somehow become known and read by everyone in my life, but like not by my own volition. For some reason I believe I would be thought of differently if everyone knew but also, at least, that I would be understood more too.

I guess I feel trapped with it because I won't let it out or have no way of transmitting it outwardly.

I suffer a great deal and it makes every problem that I can think of seem somehow real and relevant.

Here's something that kept me awake. It's silly and irrelevant but because of the emotional response I got (and for no reason I might add) made the experience of the thought unbearable:

I was dreaming of something... just random and it made no real sense as such (as a lot of dreams do) There was no emotional attachment to the dream and I woke up, needing the bathroom. I then thought of some shit and was very wary of awakening too much to get back asleep. Then my emotional response kicked in and I thought "if thoughts are random and dreams are random, and dreams can be psychoanalysed to mean something, can my thoughts be, and does it make them as relevant?"

None of it means anything. I know thoughts are just random and they just happen to you and you have a Choice to make them matter or not. Like, you can think of stabbing someone, but it doesn't become real unless you consciously decide to act on it. So it's just a thought. With an emotional response, like mine, it somehow becomes relevant because you feel something for the thought and it washes over you. A dream on the other hand, is just a process your brain goes thorough to filter experiences and information. It's involuntary, but necessary. Not much is known about them and chances are they'll never be real, because there's some crazy shit going on in them. Look, you all know how dreams look, I don't need to explain!

But I don't understand it much, The emotional response thing. I don't know if I ever will. But venting it seems to help; like a noxious gas in a room. Ventilate it a little, and the air becomes more breathable. Maybe not entirely toxic, but less dangerous. I know emotional responses aren't always healthy things to act upon and that's what makes it hard to deal with. It just feels like they should be and letting go of bad emotional experiences, as you know, is a hard thing to do. I just keep learning and learning about it and it seems endless. But I'll persevere I suppose. There's no choice if it will or won't come back again. It just is. For now, at least.

Now I wish it would just Fuck Off and let me sleep a while.



Even people with moderate physical suffering can at least do that

RAGE

When people say you should always be nice

I think this is easily taken for granted. No one needs to be nice. It's a privilege, not a right.

In work for example... I'm nice to strangers for the entire duration of my shift
There are people I have known for years who I am barely ever nice to. That doesn't seem fair except briefly, for the fact that I am being paid to be nice. I don't think I'm being paid enough for that privilege. I sell my niceness too cheaply. I don't have to be nice. Fuck that

...and myself. I'm awful to myself.

When someone says "you should always be nice to people, to strangers" it now, at this moment, makes me want to punch the offender in the face.

Be the person you'd like to meet. Bullshit. You don't "choose" who you want to meet. You just meet people. you don't get a choice

Be nice.

No I should not. And neither should you. It's a choice, when I'm feeling like it. I don't "have" to be nice if I don't want to be.

Yes, I am arguing with myself. I know this. I am aware of it, so that makes me happy.

Anyway.

I asked a girl out a long time ago, and I could never let go of the fact that she confided in an associate, that I was "too nice" and "not her type"

or some bullnut like that

what I guess annoys me about that is the fact that I CHOSE to be nice to HER PARTICULARLY and this was seen as a BAD thing.

Moral of that story? I could have been an absolute cockbag and it wouldn't have made a difference except how I felt about myself.

Now, that example should not be taken in isolation for the point I'm trying to make which is just that, if you choose to be unpleasant or just ARE as a RESULT of how you feel because of whatever is going on in your life, don't be bound to a false ideal of how you OUGHT to be rather than how you actually feel. No price tag is high enough and no outside opinion large enough to merit a change that significant.

Fuck everyone else and their ideal of how YOU should be. If they don't like it, it's their problem.

and if you walk into a store and the cashier smiles to you and is outwardly chatty?

APPRECIATE it.

It's a privilege, not a right. Sometimes the customer can be an asshole too

an asshole who, has possibly had experiences just like the cashier. Another human being

Over The Edge

Fatbladder

It's been a while since I have written here

there are a plethora of good reasons. There are also an equal amount that could be considered bad, but it's barely worth a mention. Why?

because I obsess too much over things, that's why.

Sure, in a more stable set of circumstances analyzing moderately over any subject is healthy, but in my case, not so much.

I want to let go of stuff but my goddamn emotions won't let me

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

that's all I have to say

Arbitrary Observation

Most people I know are complete arseholes.

I mean it, 90% of people are complete arseholes and I say that unreservedly, hand on my heart.

OK, so there are some notable exceptions; my parents, parents of friends and young kids... too young to know they are being annoying. Young kids can be arseholes too when they become aware that crying and being cantankerous gets them what they want, or when they start to form groups and partake in bullying or roadside sarcasm when you simply want to pass by them or something. But then again, they don't know enough to know they know nothing...

But I digress.

I'm just simply pointing out that everyone I know has a streak that makes them an arsehole.

Wait a  minute... Streak?... arsehole...?

Heehee

OK, last time I digress, I promise

Anyway, the point that I'm trying to needle out here is that I grew up, trying my best to keep my good side out. It was a battle and a half which I finally realised I was losing when I continually observed others around me being arseholes and enjoying themselves, often to great reward while I was suffering with occasional happiness not relative to the immense niceties I was allowing even perfect strangers. When I did something that I could merit from, I was reprimanded for doing it by people who were looking out for my best interests, apparently.  I was told this world does not serve nice people only those who can display occasional cynicism, pedantry and being condescending and generally stepping all over their peers to come first.

OK, not always, but those people do exist

Life is not fair you see. And now that I look around with new eyes (not literally) I see it's rife everywhere.

Granted; I exaggerate on the sheer amount of arsehole-ness there is around, but that is my arsehole-ness coming through you see. It's quite enjoyable when you get used to it. I like to whittle what i observe down to raw explanation. I play devils advocate on issues even if I agree with them. My malevolence shines through in taking things apart. Stable things. Talk crap even if you don't really mean it. It's a normal thing to do.

We're Human

Apparently

See, it's OK to be a little malevolent every now and then if it serves the greater good... that being your own self-interested, greater good. That's right, in this life YOU are number one. See that person over there who thinks they are right all the time? Arsehole. See that condescending guy in the corner? Arsehole. See that fella writing blogs about anything he can sit in bed on a Monday night and muster up on the fly? Arsehole. That's right... the world is full of them. You, me we're both arseholes because that is a perfectly normal thing to do.

Normal thing to do.

Sounds nicer every time, doesn't it?


I have stories about friends and family, neighbours and colleagues and the arsehole things they did on occasion and in my small town where I grew up. Because it was a normal thing to do.

Not.

It was only normal to gossip about those that did wrong because we suffered small town syndrome. Nothing to do but hang out and talk shit about people we knew. It was a horrible idea to step out of line in case someone talked about you for stepping out of line. you had to be a moaning backward dickball to pull through because everyone was doing it.

Fuck that. I love people acting like an arsehole and being imperfect plainly because it's natural; everyone does it and it's our right to do it. We fuck up, throw up, fight, leer, shout, fall over, have punch ups then make up... Hell, that is how we have fun! I didn't understand this was completely acceptable, like a hidden super power until I could get away long enough to see from the outside. I realise I was trying too damn hard to be nice and it's changing how I have seen certain people. Even those I once had issue with, all those years ago. Nowadays, I forgive every wrong I have felt others have done to me. Every damn one, because it was their right to fuck up and moreso, because I don't want that baggage, that gossip... I do not need that shit and neither do you. Plus I reserve the right to fuck up too. Besides, Who needs someone flapping their apparently "perfect" lips aboout how much of a shit you are?

 Now I just have to get round to forgiving myself for what I have done in the past to people because... I am an arsehole too.

It's a normal thing to do you see.


I've always thought being nice and perfect would reap rewards, but it only gets you trampled on by those who would keep down there, as low as you felt. Nobody gives a shit about you, you have to do that yourself!

Matt by name, matt by nature it seems. No more.

Of course, your parents and siblings and the older and much younger generation... you gotta watch out for them.

It's the normal thing to do, you see.

Diary of a Human

I don't want to make big first-impressions any more

I know you're supposed to want that on some level, you know, to be introduced to your first boss with the go-getter attitude; to hit on that girl or guy in the right way; to make friends with the cool crowd in a way that will carry over in future;  to sell yourself as the best you can be...

I don't want it. The feeling is dying.

I mean, it has been prevalent, strongly in my life until now.but recently, I just don't want it any more

It's like; I have over-sold myself to some people - not all now, but just some

I gave them the best quality, refined, free sample one could ask for... the stain remover that turns your purple  ink stained shirt white, the tablet that degreases your dishes on impact or the washing up liquid that shines your cutlery and just keeps on giving.

A miracle product, in my opinion.

I did that shit, I over sold myself for a long time. I sold the product, I marketed it and guaranteed it's results well passed it's use by date.

Now I'm just tired and the thoughts of living up to my own high standards makes me anxious to even think of. The blueprint of the product I created is faded and hard to read. I'm perfectly happy just being a standard product that does what it says on the tin.

I'm so bored of the ridiculously high standards I set for myself to live up to.

In fact, that i am typing this suggests to me that I am trying too hard still. One day I'll get it

I picture my ideal life as a monk up high on a mountain temple in Tibet. It's the only way i wouldn't give a fuck any more, completely.

before I digress, I just mean to say that I am accepting my own fallibility as a human being, as a man and as a friend. I am realising that for some friends I have made, I have set the standard too high. Sure, every friend expects you to be the friend that they made initially... to deliver as you always did, be it listening understanding, fun, whatever. And it's in their right to expect it... and in mine to supply to an extent. After all, if marketing is considered to be a valuable practice (it isn't) then it is the onus of the marketer to deliver their promise or else no commission!

I wonder how many times and to whom I oversold myself... how often I was happy enough to just be quiet in the corner and not try to be the happy comment slinger or critic whenever the situation called for it (at least how I perceived it anyway) I wonder when I don't try, should I? I it necessary? That is what I am facing these days. Acceptance... for once, not by everyone external to me, but internally... by myself, to myself.

when you end up with a girl because you tried really hard to get her should you maintain that standard even if it's not sincere? is that a legitimate situation? are you supposed to or do you just wait and hope someone who is "just right" crosses your path at the right time and delivers all you need? (these questions are of course, rhetorical)

Trying hard will always be a battle I'll have to fight on some level; on one, it'll be asking myself "am I trying too hard with this person and should I just let them go?" and on another, it'll be "should I be trying harder to like this in case I'm just more relaxed than most about this person/place/thing and not giving it the attention it deserves?"

I know, right? "Let it be" as the Beatles once said. "Let it be as it may". Just roll with the punches. get on with it.

I believe this is the best course too, you know.

I just hope those I sold the product to are OK with an invalid warranty

and once that is clarified, I'm pulling production and relying on a multiple sell of an original product.

That's all

Nite nite x

Looking for the Reason

My blogs have always had a kind of passive aggressive nature to them. It's like the driving force behind them. When I take an objective view on them, it's the one thing that jumps out first and foremost.

For me, I have always found this hard to accept, primarily because when I am reprimanded on the fact, I get inwardly aggressive and give myself a hard time over it, which is completely unnecessary. I never thought I was the passive aggressive type. I never thought I was 80% of what I actually am but I am starting to accept all the flaws as well as the good points Anything I say outwardly I have always personally thought was constructive and reasonable and anything turned inwards was negative. That's how I am a lot of the time which is why I am extroverted by nature... everything just works better that way. Criticism turns me inward and quite frankly I hate it. I am starting to care less and less about criticism and those who keep me in ample supply. Fuck them. I consider constructive criticism to be useful, but constant criticism is a no-no.

I find out more and more about myself every day, as does anyone that can be regarded as a human being. But I mean I am faced with a lot of it everyday now, particularly while travelling alone.The type of things I would usually give myself a hard time over, I am now trying to assimilate naturally into my life, because I have no choice. I am staring at the devil, as it were.

I have been listening to Scroobius Pip lately... one song in particular, broken promise, highlights a lot of how I've been feeling lately... objectively looking at my life, the flaws I have encountered and not quite forgiven myself for... yet. It seems to suggest that most people are faced with such things at one time or another.

I have been recommended many things to help me face down my demons but I know I don't need it. I am strong minded and I can regain control of my emotions quite quickly. I know everything will ultimately be OK and things have a habit of changing by themselves. It's the way of the universe. You have to force things to stay the same constantly. Change is the one constant in this life. Everything changes all the time.

But back to blogging. I made the huge mistake of labelling it "Matt's daily rant" in the beginning because it  basically was a criticism on my own writing which pretty much gave an invitation to anyone else to criticise it too. I have been doing this for years... creating soft spots to be manipulated in order to undermine my own self-confidence. What I should have done in hindsight, was call it "Reason"... because everyone has their own way to reason things. This is mine. I have never been much of a thinker... a dreamer, yes. But a thinker, never. My access to reasoning problems and issues was always to discuss them out loud with people I know or trust. and as I am not really so much surrounded by people like this these days, I am left to do only one thing: over-think in a negative way about everything. I warn friends and family alike, don't push things in on me, the result won't be good. If you want the good Matt, let me act out. If you don't like that aspect, you don't like me, plain and simple. I prefer me when I'm happy and outgoing. Anyone who starts the worry game with me is a waste of time. I will be waving these off in future.

Another solution I have found lately is that I gotta keep moving. Moving on, letting go and progressing. I like the good aspects of myself, the shit ones are there as my Yin/Yang I suppose. I can accept that they are necessary to a degree; one helps highlight the other in a way. One is  a beacon of hope, the other a warning light much like a light house. Steer away from the lighthouse! And be wary of lighthouse keepers who are corrupted by pessimism and malevolence; they want you to feel as low as they do.

Sometimes I think I am one of the only ones banging out positive rhetoric in order to make others feel good about themselves. I genuinely enjoy the company of people and my friends, particularly. Why wouldn't I want them to feel good? But jayzus, do me a turn once in a while :-P

So, I gotta take charge and stop just hanging on for those who clearly don't give a shit. Keep me hanging on by my easy swayed good nature to wait for them to be ready. I am farting about. I swear, when the date I booked to return home comes, that is the me that is taking over. The proactive guy, the positive guy. I am done waiting around and self-sacrificing/criticising for no gain. My decisions are final. Done. Resolved.

I think that is why I got all passive aggressive to begin with. Not to hurt those I care about the most but to stop me hurting myself. I now officially care about myself the most. If you think I am selfish, please fuck off

I guess this writing has it's good points after all.

I love me

peace and love to the readers

kthanksbai

Tales of the Socially Anxious: Pt 1

Recently, I discovered I was a socially anxious person.

A contrived operation to cover up the fact that I'm a mistake making c**t just like everyone else :)

Though I do have a problem admitting this, it is tantamount to the problem itself; social anxiety is caused by a need to be publicly perfect. It is borderline impossible to be comfortably yourself and have a close meaningful intimate relationship with anyone. I really don't know how I manage to be an enduring extrovert, however. Probably because it's better than sitting around thinking of stuff I can't solve by myself. Better to talk to people about a load of crap than sit on my own mulling it over.

Anxiety and hiding.

Wow.

I think that is why i write though. It's like a warning beacon to people I know and the odd few who read that i don't know;

"This is who i am... BEWARE!"

It occurs to me now why I loved the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles so much when I was a kid. I could relate to them; they were teenagers, lived in the dark, wore masks and hid in their shells when threatened. (I'm not sure they ever hid in their shells but I'm using the metaphor anyway!) But I couldn't do ninjitsu... the only form I knew was the verbal sort... I'd turn my enemies' words on themselves rather than their actions so they couldn't hurt me and end up looking quite the fool indeed! The splinter aspect though.

My writing is splintered, and it is my master.

Maybe I can publish all those drafts I have lying about some day. It's all I want to do outwardly. Even if the writing's serious, funny, topical or whatever. I was stupid to ever stop because of criticism.

Damn anxiety!

It's weird. I get so caught up in not making mistakes I miss out on ever learning anything. I think that is why I am 31, uneducated on a practical level and have no qualifications to speak of. The lack of mistake making prevented me from ever actually doing anything because I didn't want to feel bad.

Boy is my face red.

Basically I listen to criticism and try to mold it into a personality. opinions and apparent observed flaws shape me if I care enough about the critic. If you want an analogy, imagine you are a rock and criticism is an old hammer and chisel. If you are strong, it cannot chip away at you. But if you are even slightly weaker, the tools start to shape you until you are moulded in a form you are stuck with. Bits are lying about the floor that are no longer a part of you. You have essentially lost part of your identity. If you were the strong rock, you would easily break those tools.

But you know, I never realised anything was ever wrong. it was just like a crazy kinda conditioning I submitted myself to. See, a lack of wanting to make mistakes meant I took less risks and lived a quite uncomfortable existence, torturing ex-girlfriends and family alike with my undiagnosed whining and irrational decision making.

Funny to think that i acquired girlfriends by trying too hard to please them. No wonder the relationships fell apart. I don't blame the girls at all though. They were great the whole time. Lovely people.

And then one day, not too long ago, the pressure mounted and the proverbial cork popped off and the pressure was released . I found myself in the most unique and challenging environment I've ever been in. It's as exciting as it is scary. I now stand face to face with my problems. I sit every day in a busy house full of strangers; ships in the night. The impermanence of it all forces me to face the one thing in it I was never comfortable with; myself. I am the one component of this situation that is consistent. I have to be myself every day with constantly changing house mates. I have to keep practicing cover ups and cementing myself as the perfect nice-guy. It's impossible. I relate to the ones I like and don't relate to the ones I don't. See, it's impossible to have a fake personality around such a diverse crowd. A real eye opener.

In truth, I have to be a bit of a tit. It would take a magician to hide one's real self from hundreds of strangers.

And magic is not real as both we know.

So now it's just me vs. my anxiety. No family in the way. No shaky relationship to distract me. Just a sense of heightened self realisation. I am forced to "find" and "be" myself and to pull off the action with no fear. I think I'd rather jump out of a plane. Naked. Over a field of cacti.

And that may well happen in the next while if I ever get the fuck out of Melbourne

Hello again, World!

Dear reader
I have been dying to get back into the writing buzz for ages. there have been a few notable factors in the way recently like, lack of ideas, location change, giving a shit whether people liked reading this or not and a struggle as to whether this was something worth pursuing in terms of personal enjoyment or whether it was labourious or not. I mean, i have plenty of ideas floating about, and in terms of logical thinking, this is a medium for uncluttering my lazy brain. When I think, you see, I think in clouds of concepts. I think of an idea and in five seconds flat, I'm arguing for and against the idea. Some would call it reasoning. I just call it, well, daydreaming. This is exactly why I have always farted through life you see... I'm like a fly on the dinner table... I light for a millisecond, find what i want, then buzz off again to pastures new. My thoughts, on a day to day basis, might just be about some random subject or about a girl or something - i dunno - but when there's a serious matter to consider, I'd prefer to put pen to paper and see where reasoning takes me. If I don't do it, I go to crazy town. And that is where I started writing from.


See the worst thing that happened to me in relation to writing these posts was not the lack of things to write about. It wasn't the lack of motivation either. It wasn't that I lost interest or had no time for it. I started to care what others thought about them.


See I have a bit of a general anxiety problem. I get anxious when i cannot find answers to questions or situations that I wonder about or picture myself in. If it's instant, it's OK. No problems. If someone offers me a solution, I consider it a while, then break it down myself into a way that works and then possibly think it out loud. Some folks are good in their minds. I'm not. I have to blurt out the small shit and consider the bigger things, later. Some people get hung up on one problem or phobia or something. I hang on to problems until I can "iron them out" in a quiet way, in my own time. Call it head space or something. I can be a problem thinker, but it's usually always logical, in a way. It's when I start to care about the feedback is when the shit hits the fan. I so dislike doubting my own reasoning! 


It's been a hell of a break. I've been meaning to get into this writing vibe again. There were a few of you out there who liked to read my stuff too, I heard. I'm grateful, really. Initially, I started writing here just for something to do. I was spending endless hours pouring over what it was I wanted to spend my life doing and all that free time doing nothing, was wrecking my head. And there was lots of time. But it turns out that I like writing. From the top of my head. In my own style. About things I want to write about. Honestly is the best policy, they say.


I am obsessed with the process of thinking. I went through a period of strange thinking recently. The kind where you picture a scenario (that more than likely won't happen) and argue for ages with someone in your head. I asked myself why this was happening and after a few days I conceded that it was because I wasn't doing what I wanted in lieu of appeasing a silly force external to me that I had no control over - the opinions of others. I was actually avoiding criticism. "So" I asked myself ... "continue to be dishonest in what you want to do to maybe possibly keep people happy or just write away to keep yourself happy" 


The choice was a no-brainer. I quote one Scroobius Pip - 


I remember when I was a kid and that
Way before I found beards and caps
Pencils came with erasers that
Could erase your mistakes erase, retract
But in the real world things just ain’t that easy
You can’t take back your mistakes so freely
You gotta take them in think about them deeply
Not ignore them and just move on discreetly

They say Jesus died for somebody’s sins but God knows he didn’t die for mine
Coz I’ll stand accountable for my own damn sins each and every time.

And if my sins are too great to be accepted in the circles which I strive
Then I’ll go right ahead and live a lone lush life in some small dive

This is how I'm starting to feel about my life, my writing, my opinions and my anecdotes. 

There's some fucking serious shit going on and I have not been acknowledging it. I wear my heart on my sleeve, always. But some mistake this as an invitation to give me advice I do not ask for. The power of the blog was a means for me to think in a readable format for myself, and anyone who was bothered enough or indeed bored enough, to read and muse over. Then it was taken a little too seriously by some, leading me to spend my time in the dank uninteresting place that is my brain. I don't mind now, being imperfect enough to blurt out every little thought I have about this and that. half the time, I'm just playing devils advocate and that is good enough for me. I don't expect it to be good enough for anyone else or to go as far as to please them! If you want to chat me something i have been thinking about I'm all ears - hell, it's not an epitaph! I reserve the right to change my mind any time! And if you're the type to hold me to my thoughts, no matter how arbitrary they are, I'd rather NOT talk to you! This is just a place for me to empty my head and for you to get five minutes entertainment. Hell, you can marvel over it whatever way you want. 

I honestly don't give a shit any more.

Next post: A decent discussion! (promise!!)

Defeating negativity with reason

This is not going to be a blog where I give out about something. At least, I don't think so anyway. we'll see how it goes

the worst thing I've done recently was give up writing... Writing helps me clear up my thoughts on certain things... pretty much whatever I'm mulling over that day. I like to take a central position when I think about things... the pros versus the cons and basically have a conversation with myself on screen.

I think a lot. Generally, I regard myself as somewhat a shallow thinker. I type and think at the same time. the Concepts turn into words and the words hit the paper and it's as simple as that. The problem here though is I care too much too.

When I started to care about the criticism I was getting for my pieces, my thoughts turned inwards and I was looking for someone to blame, so rather than take strength from it and continue regardless, I stopped writing. The simple fact here is, if someone doesn't like me for sharing my views and speaking my mind, I'm the one in the wrong for trying to change to keep them happy or close to me. I can see a million motivational posters in my mind's eye as I finish typing that sentence.

I love to write. Writing helps me to channel the reasoning part of my mind that clever people can like a light switch. Unfortunately, ideas pop about in my head until I can get them onto paper and truly challenge them. it's therapeutic in that respect.

and speaking of respect; I have always respected strong minded people, those who stand by with their courage alongside their convictions. I have always gravitated close to those who have firm goals and strong opinions, whether I agreed with them or not. I'm a loyal friend, it seems.

But that is the chink in my armour here. My loyalty trumps my decision making.

I'm one of those people that will probably never be famous. I'll probably plod along for the rest of my life trying to achieve what I want in life. I would love to act and sing, write some music or poetry, but unfortunately, my confidence is not as solid as some. I do write but purely out of scratching an itch, or just clearing out my mind of clutter. I am starting to give less of a damn about who reads this if anyone, or what they think of it. I'd rather not follow a strong crowd and just start laying the paving slabs for the path I want to take myself down. It really is that simple. Everybody needs a companion... I don't want to amble along being someone's buddy. I'd rather amble down my own road and see who would join me. Writing brings me closer to that dream. Maybe running might bring me down it a little faster. But as soon as I can trust myself to be happy enough, this will take hold.

it's gotten to a point whereby a new perspective is needed.. something fresh. When it hits you that you're only human and have a limited time in which to accomplish all the things in life you want... those little dreams in your head or heart, those little visualisations, rather than the spelled out criticisms in your head because you feel like you may be in the wrong, it's time to say "fuck it". If the actions I take, the things I say or the pieces I write are not good enough for those close to me, it's time to change who I travel with on this road I've laid down.

I'm already passed that and I'm not going back.

my fear of point of view it seems, stems from the fact that I am just not confident enough to take on the roles I imagine for myself; the good guy, the pleaser, the one who keeps everyone happy. I cannot continue this way. Also, I must accept myself for who I am. Forgive my mistakes, leave my past behind and take criticism from those who don't agree with my ways... then leave them behind too.

if you end up dropped, it's nothing personal. it just had to be done.

Who Am I?

Who am I?

You know, I’ve always had a problem with identification

There are days when I look in the mirror and I’m not quite sure I like what is looking back at me.

There are days when I’m too fat and days when I’m too spotty or I don’t like my hair or something. The list goes on and on.

But it doesn’t stop there. Sometimes my clothes bother me. There are times I’m frustrated that I cannot fit into my present ensemble... If I’d dare to call it that

There were days too, when the way others were so comfortable with themselves bothered me, or troubled me, because I was so far away from what I wanted to be or wanted to do. I guess I envied people who were so settled in their ways. I can safely say I don’t feel that way anymore.

I always have problems with my own identification.

And it got me to thinking, as always; “What am I going to do now?”

When I was too fat, I ran until I was thin again. That felt good. But I have problems in being thin... I eat too much to maintain it. And I LIKE eating! Still, I run all the time to do my level best to keep my weight to a degree that I can grin when I look in the mirror... I don’t like being fat either, after all. I also notice some people get upset when I say I like running so much. That is ok. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. It’s ok to be happy with yourself!

I have been many things in my time too; a school kid, an underachieving student, a waiter, a warehouse worker, an office worker, a labourer and a whole lot more. I never stayed with any of them. I didn’t fully enjoy them, you see. When I got home at the end of the day I didn’t feel like I wanted to be one of them tomorrow... and I guess that continued until I didn’t have to be them for eight hours of my day any more. The only thing I missed was the money... and I usually ended up giving that to shop keepers and barmen. I guess I didn’t want to be rich either.

And so it’s gotten me thinking about my education and what I actually want in life. Every day I see people merit themselves on their achievements... which I guess brings about a certain level of happiness to them. “That must be a good feeling” I say to myself often. And I have gone beyond the point of begrudging anyone of anything they like... especially if they are a friend. I want my friends to be happy. And my family too. I tried to earn diplomas, certificates and I even tried to post the results for all to see when I achieved them. But that didn’t make me happy. I don’t like to merit myself it seems. So it turned out that I didn’t identify with that. I’m not sure I’m finished with education. I see myself lean towards Sociology, Politics, writing, and Philosophy in future. I reckon I’ll do them to please myself, when the time is right. But it still makes me queasy to think of identifying with it. I am not a piece of paper, so I will not label myself as paper. When I get home from a lecture or a seminar, I probably won’t want to be a politician or a philosopher any more. I find myself always trying to tip the balance between what I want to be and identifying with it. I end up getting nothing done! This is why I would not begrudge anyone who makes the decision and goes through with it! Just personally, I’d like to be a little more than words, if possible.

So then, who am I?

I don’t know and I probably never will. I am happy to subscribe to that viewpoint. I know there are things I would like to do, eventually. I once thought I would like to visit Australia, not as a traveller or backpacker, a doctor or a tradesman, but just as myself. Here I am. While I am here, I will try not  to be a fruit picker, labourer, traveller, barman or anything, I just want to be myself and have a good time doing it, whatever “it” happens to be. I have wasted so much time wondering who I was that I never did what I wanted. When I make a decision, I will do so without bias, without irrationality and without pressure, to myself of course. I will do whatever gets me from A to B just as myself. When I introduce myself, I will not push my views nor restrict those coming in. I always like to think that people will view me as I do them; just another person going around trying to get the best out of life with what little they have. It could be a family, a job, a home or an ongoing education. Fair enough, it’s whatever gets you through the day. Forget the identification and use the happiness it gives you as the fuel.

I always found the desire to be something or somebody amazing actually stopped me from being who I always was! Quite who that is now, is a mystery still. I’ll never know. I guess I’ll just be whoever you meet me as next time I’m around. Same old Matt or a bigger, older wiser version? Hmmm, if I’m lucky, I suppose. I guess the reason I don’t get on with a know-it-all is because they want an identity tied to where they work, what they do, or what organisation they belong to or whatever they happen to be learning at the time. When was the last time a person was just... a person? Thankfully those I get on with and talk to always seem to be the ones that enjoy being themselves, but I wouldn’t say that is just a coincidence either.

Goddamn... I have well and truly talked my way in circles now!

Create a World

God is an important concept to me. Yeah, that may sound sad to say, at least to the stringently atheist of you out there. But I couldn't give a shit about what you think... And that's where the good concept starts. The god I care about is not an idol. It is a state of mind. I'll explain a little bit. First I want to talk about idols. Let's take a look at religious iconography for one. You look at a statue of Jesus or whatever and you see a collection of ideas or doctrines, you see boundaries and directives. When I see the long haired renaissance Jesus paintings, I see what was a shared vision of a lord, like some kind of land owner with conditions. In my mind, when you idolise a lord he represents a set number of values and the more you close in on them, the more narrow they become. After all, can one know a particle, fully? Its hard to understand the unknown! Is there a God particle? Can we ever find it?  Suddenly, The god is gone and you are left with laws. Lots of laws and directives that some really good stuff cones from... With belief though, not so good.  Restricted and bound, perhaps in a plaster cast shaped as a statue of Jesus. Or Buddha. Or whatever. Your ideas narrow. No wonder Muslims don't want Mohammed "represented". They must think we're completely nuts. As with God particles and God representations... The two just do not seem compatible. To me, at least. I really don't think even Jesus would have approved of the "idea" of God, you know, His father! God gave you simple directive; no idols! And what did you do? You made idols of an idea of an image of a collection of stories his friends gave you as third party! He'd be spinning in his tomb!  But anyway, I was saying that god was an important concept to me. Yes indeed, it is. I don't think of a god, a supreme omnipotent watcher with a big grey beard. I don't see anything. Clarity, hugeness, border less infinity and possibility are god to me. How much more loving can you get than freedom and chance, risk and reward? If you live someone, even a concept, set it free! Freedom of mind and body! Who needs a defined, limited set of laws trapped in an idol; a representation of someones vision? Too wrapped up on what god is it seems to me. There is no "is" or "it". And it's as simple as removing personal restrictions and concepts that puts you closer, I think. They say God created the world in seven days. He made a,b,c on the first day and x,y,z on the last. I do this every day. I create worlds in my mind and I go where I choose, behave in a manner that is fair to others and true to myself. And the funny thing? I don't want to kill anyone! Not sinner or saint. Not even someone who doesn't share my idea of god.  Now ain't that strange? I don't care about the Christian or muslim ideas of god no more than I care for Marx or Dawkins. They are all idols, equally. A bunch of ideas trapped in a man, or statue of one. Sure, they might have had good ideas at one stage, but ideas are personal things that spread like a virus; each strain gets stronger the more its spread and people scurry and get angrier looking for a cure and fight over the ideas. Ideas are poisonous when practiced by the ill. Well, Ill Of mind, at least! What a vicious cycle to be stuck in. Why would you choose to be angry anyway?  You need a fresh and open mind for unaffected, great ideas. And they can make you feel pretty feckin good when put into practice. But be careful who you share them with, ok? 

It's all good!

I was angry once but I'm not any more LOL

End All or Be All

So I had a thought today. I thought, if God is loving and all powerful, there would be no suffering as He has the power to change it Himself. And because we are made in His image, we try to help each other as He, assumingly, would too. Still no sign of it. In fact, "the ways of God are not for man to know. Well then, how do YOU know that is so, if the ways of God are not for man to know?
If the Universe was God, there would be suffering, because we were all equal under the Universal principle that we exist within it's chaotic structure, so why wouldn't we suffer? I thought about the human principle of "If you know better or can help, then you should" which falls under the principle of "with great power comes responsibility". After all, that is how evolution allowed us to be here in the first place... our ancestors helped our own lineage to survive.  Anyway, I digress.
So, If there are people who believe in a God that pretty much has no hand in our day to day affairs, lets people starve and lets wars and dictators become the everyday norm, they pretty much decide not to help or intervene because the greater good, apparently wants the world to be this way... in other words, they don't want to help because they think their God will. However, those who think that nature is their God believe we should help each other and not wait for the miraculous hand to intervene... like it ever will, according to their logic. After all, "the Lord works in mystrious ways"... not at all. I mean, are we to believe that a storm that stops an invasion or that a disease that irradicates a people is a "miraculous intervention guided by Gods hand", or is it perhaps, nature doing it's thing? If so, then does that not make God and Nature one and the same thing? If you are going to wait for "God" or "Nature" to do it's thing, then why call it God to begin with? Why not just get up and help your fellow man in the mean time, before that "miracle" that somehow manages to kill people in their droves. How can that be "Good"? I somehow always think that religion must carry a bias, in order to make it an appealing group. Nature is not biased. I guess that is why so many flout religion these days... they don't want to alienate each other on their native planet, whether they be gay, black, Muslim, Christian, Atheist or any other condemned by exclusive religious law. Surely, if religion is your cup of tea, you'll  have a better chance of getting through the pearly gates if you accept, help and integrate rather than condemn, opress and single-out. Religion is supposed to reflect the good in your heart, not the Bad in your mind.
If the Universe/Nature and God are one and the same in the "ultimate end".. that same end that consists of "all God's children" whether the believe and repent or not, dying off and going towards their rapture or their cessation, depending on what you believe, then why not just accept and move on, while you are still alive? Have a good life and ensure that your fellow man does too? Why wait to be a good person? Wait for rewards after you die? Why not do it now and reap the benefits in "the next life"? Good is not exclusive... it's supposed to be easy. You have to work really hard to be a bastard, so I'm told :P

Perhaps religion is a wedge between nature and spirituality. Perhaps nature is a wedge between religion and apathy. Who knows? There will always be people who disagree, no matter what you believe or don't believe in. But keep an open mind. Try to understand.

That is all I wanted to say.



By the way, I am not singling out any one religion and continue to respect the beliefs of everyone. We are all equal and have the right to think, fell and practice whatever we want to... so long as it hurts no-one in the mean-time.

Good day :)

Waste of Time

I write mostly, to cure an itch

That is not to say I do so without any other point in mind. I mean sometimes, I'm trying to be funny, cynical, or just plain want to be angry at something.

Before, not too long ago, I went through a huge passive-aggressive stage, while dealing with some personal problems. That was a bit silly, but I guess writing it down at the time was part of the process... so that falls into relativity, absolving me of any guilt I should feel about it (I like to think)

Nowadays, it's just something I like to do, whenever I want to discuss something I have been throwing around my brain for too long. I'd say I have only published half of what I have written in entirety. The rest is a case of "write the letter today, post it tomorrow... on second thoughts, don't"

I once read a quote by an author I admire which I'm going to paraphrase: "I always wrote with my sister in mind. I feel it's good to write your stories as if you were intending to tell it to a specific person, not an entire audience. I always pictured her laughing at the story being told as she used to when we were young, while she was still alive". The author was Kurt Vonnegut... can't remember the specific book... maybe Slaughterhouse 5? Anyway, I digress... I thought his method was interesting... but when I tried it, it made me irritable. I guess I harbor a lot of ire somewhere inside. Suffice to say the method failed me, personally. Or maybe I should have pictured someone I liked talking to. That could have worked well. I guess I should find a better muse.

Anyway, though I like writing specific thoughts and to some extent, not-so-specific (quite like this pointless bit of banter) sometimes I feel like I'm doing so, just to kill time. I have an itch to do something with my life, having squandered the best part of ten years. I also like to read. See what my thoughts "look" like. And I like to read other people's blogs too. I like to read other regular people's thoughts, then I transmit my own, and we can all feel better about ourselves. It's all a bit Schadenfrued really. But in doing so, as in writing them down, helps me feel better about myself too, to an extent. Like my day was worth the little bit more because I got to empty my head and do something creative, even for ten minutes. For instance, I was thinking about the army today. I really wanted to see if I could do it, but I'm pretty sure I cannot, having squandered my youth. That boat sailed six years ago. At this stage I'd be paddling after it. So now I am writing, to fill a gap. To shut of my brain. And to scratch an itch.

Frankly, If I don't do something worthwhile with my time soon, I'm gonna burst. And I don't want to have to pay for carpet cleaning.

I'm poor enough as it is.

Plus my ass is raw with all the scratching I did in the last ten years. Gotta scratch something!

10,000 Hours

10,000 hours...

That is 416 days, before you go looking

And lately, I've noticed I have given up on everything I was ever any good at, or beginning to get good at. Actually, honestly, I don't know if that is true. There is running for example... I have managed to keep that up... does that mean I'm crap at it? It's a weird conundrum I find. Having said that, I haven't been running for 10,000 hours yet, but when you think of the overall nutrition and the lifestyle change involved, not to mention the constant attitude needed, it's a daily slog... and all in all comes up to about 197 days, give or take, since I committed myself to it.

But I get intimidated by consistency... When I think of all the things I could be successful at and the time involved in them, I always seem to back out at the last minute. According to Outliers, the Story of Success by  Malcolm Gladwell, the repetition of any task for 10,000 hours will contribute to your overall success in it and also, a perfection or expertise of sorts (though I'm paraphrasing here... I never actually read the book, just overheard the reference a few times)

Then why is my typing dyslexia getting worse? I'm sure I have written for over 10,000 hours including school and homework into the mix! And why is it so hard to give something I like, like music, 10,000 hours before I quit for no apparent reason?

I have sat on my arse for a long time now, online, and I hate it... It bothers me that I cannot find a single thing worth doing from the comfort of my seat in this country. Of course I could go out and find something using my two legs and a bit of initiative ... but I like my computer and I like sitting down. And I've spent over 10,000 hours on my arse, so I must be pretty good at it. For some reason I'm thinking of a quote from Two-and-a-Half Men where Jake asks Charlie "Uncle Charlie, can I watch T.V?" and Charlie replies: "Well you have two eyes and a butt". There's wisdom buried in there somewhere,  perhaps.

But it doesn't seem like you're doing anything at all when you're just sitting, browsing jobs or courses or even reading online or watching television. And right now, in Ireland, an unemployed person such as myself has to fight hard to find a job, especially one that I like. I'm worried, because watching T.V is something I'm getting to be good at. But I want more than sitting there watching T.V. At this stage, I just want a job, any job, that I would happily spend 10,000 hours in... especially if it takes me away from this boring rut I find myself in. A year at anything other than sitting on my ass would be great. Running does provide a good break from the mundane but I guess I require more. When I think of the 10's of thousands of hours that have passed, the opportunities I have let pass and the failed tasks I have put time into, it just makes it all the more necessary to get good at something. I think of that 416 days, or 10,000 hours starting every day. What to do, what to do...

Of course I've been procrastinating for over 10,000 hours now, so I must be a professional at this stage

Return of the Rant

The last while has been very confusing for me. I'd say the entire time actually adds up to about a year, if I'm to be fair. I could exaggerate, but that would simply fool no one, myself included. That is, it would achieve nothing for me to tell a white lie and say that I was, in fact, confused for less than like, two months or something. I have been confused for a great while now. I think that is  something I share with many though, because confusion spurns creativity - no one knows what it is they're supposed to be doing, so they do all manner of things. They may go to college, shoot for the big promotion, or become a Fireman or something. Hell, there are many, who are currently filling these roles, or literally, filling bread rolls... with ham and cheese and shit, that really don't want to be doing it at all and can only think to occupy themselves with whatever they can, while providing the odd Dollar, Euro or Yuan or whatever. Again, I would say I was such a person... someone just looking for something to do... hopefully, while getting a small reward for it. The reward may be cash, long vacations or to hear a crowd cheer after a performance. Really, there is more than one way to feel rewarded from what one does with their time. Right now, getting skinnier and healthier are rewards for me. It feels good.

But you know, it's not always easy to find something you like to do... and furthermore, it's not always easy to find the right reward that you'd like to receive for it. Some people choose the wrong path, briefly, and find that hard work is not their forte, or perhaps running through burning buildings is just too hot for them. Perhaps they liked reading novels but found curriculum-specific novels to be a tad... ensnaring and slightly constricting to their usual reading desires. Also, It's seems painfully easy to fall into the alluring honey-trap of following suit, when really you'd just rather do the fashion degree than going for the sales/marketing degree that everyone else is going for. It seems that decisive self expression plays a serious role in how some folks would like to spend their time. And this is what snagged me... What the hell do I want? And what would be adequate for me to commit to doing from here on?

Honestly... I am still where I was two years ago with regards to "what I want" in life. I am still idle, to a degree and a little under-achieving, even by my own standards.

But things aren't completely the same as they were... I mean, I have gotten older and a little more experienced and my attitude is a little more "grown-up". How I spend my free-time has changed and indeed, my outlook on a number of issues I have been contemplating for most of my adult life have matured somewhat. I no longer sit on the fence like I used to, even if I haven't achieved a whole lot, personally. But that is on the rise.

But, here is where I go back to the statement that opened this blog, the first of many in this "retry" of "Matt's Daily Rant" (name to be reviewed). The last while has been very confusing for me. And here I am, back here again.

The situation I find myself in is not really any clearer than it was, but I feel like I have handled myself better lately. Though that is changing constantly. I am always confused. I often hear people saying "childhood was a confusing time for me" or "My teens was very confusing". Hell, occasionally, I still hear older generations say "My midlife crisis/menopause was a confusing time" etc etc you get the drift. I believe life is just... confusing. Ups and downs, poverty to just having enough to scrape by, good decisions, bad decisions, bad and good hair days, theses and dissertations, medical conditions and natural disasters. Life is a flux. Some people sink their heads in the sand, some come out fighting, some live in sci-fi fantasies, others take up acting, teaching, doing courses they know they hate, working on the land, working for charity, jamming, slamming and ramming. You know, it really doesn't matter.
God could be your saviour... Hell, he could be down the bottom of a bottle or up in the sky, in the back of a good book or miles away overseas... he could be a green-back or a nice red-head. He could be a conflicting opinion or a reason to live. Who knows? Not bleedin' I, that is for sure. I'll never know and I realise now, sometimes I just like not knowing. Lately I have found my peace in few places... In nights with my friends... I have found it on cycles through my town or in the sweat I generate while running. I've even found it while simply listening to others without really forming a personal judgment on it. I guess I just like to do these things. Run, cycle, drink, chat and listen. I love to listen and I love to read too. I goddamn love opinion columns whether I agree with them or not.



Did I also mention I love to write?

Any Idiot Can Write an Article

This year has started out to be quite interesting

I'm sitting in Istanbul Arkaturk, en route to Asia, more specifically, China. This time last year I was probably yawning while scratching my balls or something. That's not to say that scratching your balls isn't useful or doesn't feel good, but there's a time and a place for it and anything can get boring if you do it too much.

(Scratches said testicles)

So yeah, I'm sitting in Istanbul. My flight was delayed by 2.5 hours for whatever reason and I find myself in a bar, drinking beer on my own simply because there's nothing better to do. Last year I would have said that there surely was something better to do than scratch different parts of your body, but now that statement seems ironic and somehow relative. The intention is certainly to continue my journey and have a good holiday, but I'd rather be at home scratching than killing time in an airport. For every peak there seems to be a pitfall.

But that is not to say either, that I am regretful of my circumstances. On the contrary, I like the idea that this will lead onto better things and an unforgettable experience on the whole. But there is definitely a time and place for everything and I owe this to being completely idle at one stage and all the yawning and scratching that came with it. I think we are only entitled to give out about our circumstances once we accept responsibility for them and are willing to change them. No point complaining about something if you willingly partake in it over and over again.

Anyway my point was simply that though I'm stranded for a few hours, things could be a lot worse. Certainly, as I say this I have some of the bigger global issues of the world in mind; crippling debt, The recent tsunami in Japan, the troubles in Libya and poor old Charlie Sheen, of course. Anyone in these situations would be happy to be relieving an itch rather than face the difficulty they all face at the moment. And far be it from me to complain about a little waiting time when things are changing for the better, personally. Sometimes you cannot change what is going on and you hope that the situation will change itself. For those of us who have the power to change our situations, we really are overlooking a great gift we have. Choice. And I think I have just rekindled the romance I once had with mine.

To all those who are suffering or know someone who is suffering from circumstances beyond their control, you have my sword. To all those who complain and never lift a finger to make a difference, you owe me a sword. Or a blunt letter opener. Whichever.

Can't Make it Work

No, this is not a post about erectile dysfunction

And thank fuck for that!

But seriously folks.

Anyway, so, why spend so much time worrying about something that doesn't work? And again, I must remind you that the question is all-encompassing and general.

Like why do we spend so much time hanging onto a bad, life sapping situation, job, friendship or relationship? Sure, friends will say we should forget it. It's great to live on the outside; but very relative... as if that wasn't obvious enough.

It's easy. you cannot see a shit situation for what it is. No way can you, because you are an active participant. They say the universe wouldn't exist without us to perceive it and vise versa. It's funny, what would the universe be if we never had vision?

But before I digress, It's possible to know your situation is bad and still be powerless to do something about it. All I want to do is clarify that it's normal to feel bad within a situation and still not be able to do something about it. Situations are more than what they look like to anyone. It is, after all, only a combination of what they see and what you experience.

Why do we find ourselves in bad situations even though we know the best course of action and would easily recommend it to a friend in need, but cannot take the advice ourselves?

I guess the answer is that people need to be able to see plenty of bad situations and to live them at least a  few times. Sure, you might know what you should do, but that doesn't mean you are going to do it. Perception is based on two things. Seeing and experiencing through your other available senses. Processing can only happen once you have used all your available senses properly. It's like telling a blind person what the colour green is; they may know what objects the colour inhabits, but they don't know the colour themselves. Hell, they don't even know the objects.

You can see bad things happen. You can hear bad things going down. But until you personally feel something about all these situations from a first-person perspective, your advice is just the same as talking to a deaf, dumb and blind kid. But if you know it's time to jump ship, you've probably woken up slightly. It doesn't mean the end of the experiences though. Senses don't end until you do and the universe will not cease to exist until all those who experience it disappear. Well, it won't stop existing, it just will cease to be what we understand it to be. What does this mean? None of it works. None of our hypotheses or theories are worth a damn in the grand scheme. And besides, what is there to understand about universal relativity if we barely understand personal relativity?

Anyway, was just a thought.

Night night :)