Monday and it is almost 40 degrees out there, i'm getting that head caving in feeling and i hate it. Why does money have to be such an issue in early recovery? I got a place to sleep, i got all the food i can eat and i'm smoking like the gun that i am, but it's never enough is it? I'm like five minutes from the beach, in a relationship with a beautiful woman whom i totally adore, but it's never enough...i am unravelling a little, the cup feels half empty and there's a lot of time to get negative. It's Christmas time again and new years too, i'm not thinking too much of using but this all feels like an ad for poverty, i am without cash and it is like a bad rash on the balls. Sure, i've gone for a part timer, maybe i'll get it, maybe i won't...arrrrghh! fuck it.

i volunteered to be tea person for this meeting. Yesterday i enquired about some part time work at this shoe retail place down the road, i so don't want to think about career right now, jeez, look what happened last time...so if i get it, i'll be ok, two or three days work is A OK...for now. Nic and i went to visit the kiddies, it was her first meeting with them and everything was stinky (that's good, in Nic blah) err, everything that's going on is very manageable, even though there's a lot of debri that's floating, she and i seem to be able to deal with things, to deal with us. It's just so different from my normal you know?

hot and sultry like, the weather...spent the morning in the arms of you know who and it was all the things that it should've been, i'm right in the danger zone here, she's got these stars that run down the length of her spine and i'm seeing nothing but stars at the moment. Have to be really careful with her, it's like playing with this beautiful fire and if treated with anything but the utmost care, like wild and uncontrollable fire is to play with...well i'm gonna burn baby burn. Still, i'm this stupid ass moth that just gravitates, but things are ultimately a set of decisions, and the decision to love is easy, to take care of it, well thats a decision made on a daily basis i guess. She has enthralled me, shook me, and instilled a fear in me...but in the most beautiful way.

its raining outside and i've been walking around a wet Manly, with gorgeous Nic in tow, the two of us becoming quite inseparable as of late. How long will this last for i wonder? i don't know if i've had so much fun just goofing off with another human being ever. But, with a big picture at hand, and a shitload of baggage unravelling like a slow release supository, we are faced with the reality of a relationship. She has said often that she's shit at relationships, if that's the case then i am the smear on the inside of porcelain...i've had a terrible track record, but somehow, insanely, i believe Nic and I may actually work out better than OK. And this is based on what? We're not sure, but right here, right now, nothings ever made so much sense, cut from the same...and both of us have lives to live outside of us, chapters to finish and stories to tell. Insane, but like gravity, it's a natural force that can't be fought against. So magnetic it makes me sick.

it's been a while i guess, had a stint in rehab and am learning what it means to love and be clean at the same time. about that hardcore desk job, well i fucked it off...im so over work at the moment, I just want to DANCE! Nic has absolutely blown me away and i'm totally overwhelmed at how intense the last month with her has been...teething problems, relapses. Whatever, i'm smitten and i don't care if i am codependent, i want this more than anything at this very moment, scary thing is that this feels...well, it just feels. Love you Nic.

ok im back, was wondering what the hell happened and i still am in the dark really, but atleast

now im able to post again...what's been happenin? got that corporate desk job that i never really wanted but needed i guess...so much pressure to get off my arse, and nobody has really understood me lately, except maybe for my brother. Alissa, the rehab relapse bane of my recent existence is back in the real world and is a thing that ive been devoting countless seconds to...jesus the agony, but you and i know we wouldnt have it any other way. shes such an enigmatic little beast and i love her so much for that, not even romantic like but she's one entity that just makes me ga ga like stupid yeah? like hella stupid even. am in contact with some very old friends and will be attending a bucks night of gargantuan proportions very soon...so i don't really know what that spells for recovery, i really dont know and dont even really know if im caring that much. im sad and insane more than usual but my fronts are like staunch watchtower things that won't crack anymore, im hardened by reality and i wish i was the lame fuck who was vulnerable and able to express it...so fuck you world, this attitude may not be transient like everything else and may in the end be the mechanism for the decline of my own little civilisation...so arrogant, i know this. i know this. i fucking know alright?

you ever get that feeling that your pc is being hacked... im self obsessed on my best days but when im transferring data at an alarmingly fast rate and i shouldnt be, well i dunno, i could just be paranoid but still...since switching providers its been pretty bad, alarm bells are going off and im thinking its only a matter of time until i crash altogether. so maybe i gotta take precautions but im lazy as all hell and i dont think anything particularly interesting resides in my documents anyway, or anywhere for that matter so...two tears in a bucket, fuck it i guess.

blah blah blah...this stupid browser just died and with it went words that will never, ever be repeated again. i can't even remember the basic thread of it. so here i am, feeling an obligation to post for the sake of maintaining some insane and fruitless routine. Everything is pointless right this very moment. i have a webcam - pointless. pointless, pointless, pointless.

something please remind me why??

its the little things.

i was at a fast food outlet today and i felt so guilty because i've watched one too many documentaries over recent times. I stood in line for barely a second before the manager waved me in to an empty register. Big smile, big service and it was like why are you being so nice to me? i hate the fact im so sucked in by the familiarity of your brand. Death merchant. She asks me if i want to go large, yeah why not i thought, im already here so why not go the distance. I picked something local in flavour, one that stood out from the rest because it had the word OZ wrapped about it...she took my cash, and asked me if i got a little change because she was short...i said i didnt and she said that was fine and not to worry, she'd just let me off the thirty cents.

Then the head turned, i knew what this little manager was doing, a little skimming of the register as was the taboo practice in my fast food hey day. i looked for the evidence...no green digits on the read out like its supposed to...she didnt punch in, she was stressing inside hoping she wont forget her additions and subtractions. How much was supposed to balance at the end of this little stolen period. Hmmm. i wanted to say something but then i decided against it, i gave her a knowing wink instead as i took my tray, and i think she thought i was having a go.

eyes open and the hazardous reality is not kept in check- i am totally unmanageable, all because a certain routine has taken hold, and that can only mean its back to the wasted fingers and fading keys. God i am reliving 5am shut downs and that incessant inner voice that says it aint over until its over. plod on troopers... i got soul but im not a soldier. i am severely distracted from my other considerations though, which is perhaps a good thing - a somatic reaction which in the big picture might just be what i need right this very moment---a different escape? I never claimed i was going to sit with my feelings 100 percent of the time, and even solitude, no matter how romantic the notion, come on man....really - does 5 hours of digital flirting count??? i own my part, and im not denying ive totally fallen off this pedestool i had created, im having fun but...so atleast in my book, thats a plus. Screw all the examining of motivations and definitely forget whatever grandiose boundaries i thought i had, for now...i am resplendent in my denial.

spent the best part of the day in the company of a new found friend, who lives half way across the globe in a sweltering Cailfornian city known as San Diego. in one of my previous incarnations, i had lived in the same region, but my memories of the place is somewhat tainted and distorted - from hormonal adolescent descisions that maybe for the most part forgotten. you never know, it may be an issue i'll never have to deal with, well, conciously anyway.In the back of that brain, surely the imprint still haunts, if only as a thin ghostly trail, who knows? i certainly don't care about it like i used to, but then, do i really care about anything like i used to? care is too ambiguous, too airy fairy...i know a terrible intimacy with obsession, is that the same as care in love?...i doubt that very much, and in hindsight i don't know if care was really ever just care given for the desired higher purpose and ideas, it was probably more a biproduct, a fake mechanism in place to help me believe i was actually in love. Just a funny thought and im rambling i know, but thinking of San Diego and my life there, i wish i had a snap shot of what the hell was going on, some evidence that i've changed and matured somewhat...

but the company kept today, silenced the passing of defeated words within, if only momentarily, i was really outside myself and having a bit of fun, which ofcourse is very nice.

theres a spring to my step and a song in my head. todays saturday and today is going to be unofficialy this years 'rock day' 05. im firing up the amplifier and tuning the guitar down half a step, pulling out all the unfinished tunes of recent times and opening all the windows. pissing off the neighbours will be a mandatory exercise today, and this is to to be achieved with a sonic pow wow two or three times the volume of your garden variety Victa mower. Hell, i may not even bother tuning, todays all about fun and letting go, an exorcism of sorts, a fuck you and a thank you at the same time. In between messy musical mayhem, respite is never at hand, rock day stops for no one and the hi fi will be loaded with all those records that i would never be caught dead playing, because you have to give thanks somehow, to the KIss's and the Motley's of earlier and hairier years. This year, i have something special waiting left field, the flash in the pan album of all flash in the pan albums. This year we go anal with Matt, Luke and Craig and relive those tantalisingly decadent days of Bros. Yes you read correctly, and if the neighbours behave badly enough, well, i got that shit on Karaoke as well.

When will I be famous...i can't answer that, i can't answer that.

The Dandy Warhols - Ok, if you need a lil shot of arrogance to kick start your healing process, look no further than these guys for something truly medicinal. Here's a few memorable tidbits that got me through the worst.

1. All i want to do is get off, i feel it for a minute like the real thing baby i guess
2. No more sittin around, thinking about your hair...
3. Im thinking blah, blah, blah blah di blah blah blah...you're a trip
4. i guess it's fair if he always pays the rent...
and he doesn't get bitter about sleeping on the couch when i'm there
5. you were gettin older, i was getting wiser not.
6. you cant seriously believe that i'm thinking about you man...

you gotta hear it in the context of the whole song though, and i guess you have to consider your own emotional state as well.

Back in the day, we did the suburban 'two bit punk' thing to death...how'd it get so fucked up? And i haven't thought of those beautiful and wasted days in a while, but i found an old pair of Keppers and it made me smile a little. Do you remember losing you're cool momentarily? no i can't remember shit like that either but i'm sure it happened. Do you remember wanting tats before they were compulsory? and then going overboard when you were old enough and slightly off your head, I crack up when i remember. And everything was possible, we talked so much shit that it hurt, and it never seemed like we were ever going to change, that it would just go on and on and on... and i adored you stupid and unconditionally, and you said you felt the same, we agreed that even though things were bound to change, some things don't necessarily have to.

there are two green bins stationed like sentries down the driveway, standing in their stillness, emptied of their worries and ready to take on more. they've been cleansed, lucky bastards. they watch the grey of the morning and have no thoughts to why they do, they just do and do and do. they have a ritual, an unchanging routine that they can cling to, especially on days as dreary as today. no thoughts on retirement, on wether they have enough super or if they're ever going to really meet the 'right' one, there's no discontent in them, they dont entertain thoughts on how much one can truly repent...

i'm going to get up in a moment, check the mail, then i'm going to kick the shit out of the bins.

im a sentimental fuck yes i know, and right now im looking lovingly at this minidisk player.(MWAH) God i love it, even when Ipods came out and made mp3 that much more portable, i still stuck by my MD walkman and blew off my mates who tried to sell me on the Ipods seemingly numerous and obvious advantages. Sure, there were plenty of good points in their fanatical rhetoric but i had an emotional counter always at hand. Just like every good ex catholic boy should.

On the matter of size, my MD was roughly about half the height, and when told of the size of storage on the Ipod, a ridiculously phenomal figure in terms of how many songs can be kept... it drew only a knowing and arrogant smirk from me...and coyly I began telling them that size was not everything.

The fact that with the Ipod, downloading from any PC was an instantaneous and painless exercise, only brought swift and cutting remarks about what it is that i really hate about this world, which led to a Zen Bhudist like commentary on how nobody seems to appreciate the slow path anymore. Everyones so now, now, now and me, me, me. Guys, separate yourselves from the cess pool for one god damn minute and smell the beautiful roses yeah..

it saves pictures too, well whoopdeefuckindoo...if i want to save pictures i'll use a phone.

But the beauty was (and really my arguement had only one valid saving grace) that the MD records CD quality sound, without compression, which ultimately means that the debate was really between quality vs quantity. i rode off into the sunset, big balls hanging off either side of my pony.

But after all that, i still got myself an MP3 player.

a lyrical insertion - codependent bravado (by the toohard baskets)
i watch her pack her things then go/ i don't say a thing/i'd just fix my hair/i see a taxi arriving at the front and she walks to the door/i just smile like i know her so/its raining and she is staring me down/ with mascara runnin/yeah i know its over just like last time/but this timeshes taken her time/to leave my things behind/im starting to get a feeling i dont like/does she think that ill stand right here and watch her dissapear/ without a trace/No. I dont think so (2x)i'd finally decided to let this go/its too much work/even when you love like we do/ and you i want to remember as you are now/ so strung out on you/god if you only knew/looking like you did a few years ago/ you dont ever change/you never ever change/feeling like i did a few years ago/i dont ever change/ i never change/does she think that ill stand right here and watch her dissapear/ without a trace/No. I dont think so (2x) then fade

not a top ten list but close enough. the albums that i would have buried or burnt with me at the end. the sound track to an extended youth.

it must be said though that this was a gut reaction kinda compilation...and if asked tomorrow, it could be slightly different

Placebo - without you im nothing
The Dandy Warhols - thirteen tales...
Nick Cave - Let love in
Guns N Roses - Appetite for destruction
Stereophonics - Performance and cocktails
Sex Pistols - Never mind the bollocks
The Cure - Disintegration
The Smiths - The Queen is dead
The Beatles - Revolver
Stone Roses - Self titled
White Stripes - Elephant
Depeche Mode - 101
Smashing Pumpkins - Adore
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - ACME

somewhere north i left all semblance of goodness- i want it back, all the higher feelings of a brutal and sweet honesty rather than the mouse in wheel reluctance of head, to accept the simplest truth. I spin as i run the race of my mindscape and trip more than once, i fall more than once...now i am feeling the nakedness of a babe drawing its first, i thirst for something that is fast becoming the elusive. i lose touch of hope, and suffer implicitly the separation from all that keeps me outside of me. I am too much inside, i feel so keenly the rot of fifteen years of numbness. Clean or not clean? my dirt requires worlds to change, a vacuum of infinite size to suck me dry...

Photobucket

This is a test post from Photobucket.com

collecting dust and its ok for now
am numb from the defeat of love
and i will throw you up like you threw me up
and i will self harm as is my karma

and the light seeps in the winter glass
morning virgins i remember feeling that...
before i whored it all on the most reluctant smile
skin was still from believing it all was inside

its so late but i cant seem to get off this pc, tommorow i know i'll be paying for it so i guess in some instances tommorow does know...im planning on having a productive day, even if that means only taking stock of the domestics, cant ever afford to not heed the practical and the most practical thing to be done right now is to get some sleep. a 24 hour plan is what i should be working on, rather than this constant directionless banter with a fantasized readership. something spiritual, something physical, and something mental...yeah, i know i know the basics but its just so menial sometimes that i usually overlook it - blogger wont let me upload images at the moment and im a little concerned

getting funny, speaking to stew on the phone at the moment while trying to do this...pretty poxy effort. and its not the way it looks on my pc so somethings wrong. spent most of this day just pissing away the time, though i caught something quite educational on SBS about journalism in Iran, now ive got some unexpected ammunition if i ever get into a conversation pertaining to that particular subject. who knows really, might just happen, i might even instigate the conversation over dinner tonight. incidentally, im cooking steaks.

its gettin late and this page is looking pretty close to how i want it, so i'm probably going to rest up a bit because it just seems the right thing to do. im going to start up another page, just my writing, not blogging - the more pretentious pursuit of words, i fancy myself as a bit of a writer you see, and so there you go. just about given up on this guitar based expression as i know im never going to be brilliant, im never going to get there with natural talent alone. yeah OK, i can string a pretty nice tune together but so what? anyone can do that...i cant sing for shit so it negates anything that i really want to do with it. Hey man, you cant be the shit at everything, sometimes youre just shit.

Currently listening to 'into my arms' by Nick Cave.

I spent the day mostly in the company of the Ex. Not an Ex, but the Ex if you know what i mean- Almost argued i think, and if we didn't, it was certainly skirting around that familiar territory...she's having problems with people with problems. Currently she's not enjoying things too much and i guess its understandable considering the weight she carries. At the end it was OK, we parted amicably as we do now, in these heady days of my early recovery. Am I in denial here as well? God I really hope not...

I've been having some funky thoughts about what relapse actually means to me. It's dangerous, i've been told, to pay too much credence to what my head is actually speaking, and to a degree i agree. But i'm sick at the moment i think, and may have been sick for a lot more time than i may have wanted to acknowledge. Sick always, with or without using...maybe since leaving rehab, all my usual preoccupations have been on the side burner for all the wrong reasons, i suspect as much. I don't feel healthy up there at all, and it seems OK at the moment, which is why I have this niggling thing...this festering feeling that i may be going through much more than I care to look at. Denial kicked in i guess, i'd say and try to believe what i wanted to believe, but it always comes oozing out sideways, like second guessing relapses and recovery, and what it means to moi. Time to pull the finger out - why is it even a question of wether i really want it or not? it was once a given, like breathing in meant I would be breathing out again.

since i have plenty of time to kill, i'm attempting over the next few days to update the look of this site...yeah, over it already as i knew i would be, so there. Can feel the stress building in my shoulders and i know it's gonna be just one swell ride.

the omen - does this look like someone in need of a future emancipation?
i look into that lopsided stare and i'm back in that little room doing inner child work, with a counseller/psychologist who demands just about everything. She asks me to pretend, to focus on the little pillow, to get there.

it's that time of the TV year, Australian Idol's back, as well as the audition footage. I have to flip through to something else every time i get an inkling that someone is gonna get embarassed. I'm talking scars here that may or may never heal, i truly can't stand it but i can't seem to boycott it altogether.

"you are a bean bag with legs...who can't sing"
- Karl

and that's one of the nicer things i've heard so far.

Had an intense couple of days, shopped like stupid yesterday because of this fear i have...the good news i suppose is that this terminal right here in my bedroom, is now connected to the world wide web. Argued like hell last night about the aesthetics of running a teeny weeny cable from upstairs to the line located in the kitchen, i was stressing that it wasn't such a huge deal but another member of the house was quite opposed to the idea.

This obsession with the obsolete, well it's found a new tangent, another way to collect things that the technologically discernable would scoff at. PS1 - Arguably an investment in something totally useless, i guess i totally missed out or something because in its heyday i refused to own one. Or my partner at the time refused that I own one, whatever, the point is i'm buying stock like a dumb ass, and tonight i'm gonna playstation like it was 1999. Yee haaaar.

"you can't seriously believe that i'm thinking about you man..."
- The Dandy Warhols

Having a day of relative peace, the head's not buzzing with spirals of any kind and it feels as though i've turned some kind of corner...will this really last? i'm sitting with the feelings and it's starting to go away, this pining puppy thing over this rehab girl - Hey man, i knew it was never ever going to happen anyway. I just like to stretch the emotional a little, milk it for all it isn't worth. Funny how sometimes you can dream that one person on this earth could fix everything, and even when you intrinsically know that the person can't, it's the much easier and nicer option to think that they can. Deluded? yeah. Silly to have given that much rent but i guess in it's own maddening way, she kept me scared enough to stay more or less on the straight and narrow path. What now, brown cow?

got the whole SP mania happenin again, quite excited about Billy Corgan's solo effort, really imploding that they're gettin back together-hey i heard he's touring with Motley Crue and Diesel somewhere? Like South Sydney RSL or something like that...I wonder.

there's this ad up late every night and during daytime tv that's been goin on for months about this liquidation house in Sydney. Their latest claim, water damaged stocks must go, everything must go, nothing over ten dollars. Yada, yada, yada...i always thought when i saw this add, and heard that annoying yelling voice that came with it, that it must be a whole heap o' shit. I went there today hoping i'd be wrong, but expecting to have my original views validated; they were more or less although... I walked around for two hours and found maybe three or four items i would actually consider buying, and these were the kinds of things, i wouldn't have had on any kinda imaginable mental wishlist, these were those weird things that you couldn't actually preconceive.

e.g : Sonny Cheeba films, Sonny is the the guy who played the guy who made those swords in KIll Bill, well he used to top bill in B grade Japanese. Tarantino was a big fan apparently. There's this whole dialogue in 'True Romance" where Christian Slater explains Sonny to Patricia Arquette...anyway, you just wouldn't expect that, would you?

e.g : The Borribles Trilogy...what the? I was eleven or twelve, picked up a 99c paperback called the Borribles at a Franklins in my neighbourhood. I read it, I loved it and then I lost my copy. Nobody since then that i've spoken to have heard of The Borribles...and it was there in my face. I never knew it was even a trilogy.

it took a real effort to overturn my ideas on what love is really...i had to break that romantic lurking inside and learn healthy terms for my unhealthy ideas...thus 'i'm falling for you' really means feed my neediness, i am soooo lonely etc, etc, etc. I have the capacity, in my new found wisdom, to turn what was once a beautiful delusion to an ugly and sickly reality. Wow, thank you so very much for that - now i can go on and get on with it, live a productive and satisfying existence second guessing every potential relationship, because now, i have AWARENESS. Blue Pill? Red Pill?
I just read that Billy Corgan's bringing SP back the dead, can ya believe it? www.smashingpumpkins.com this man almost singlehandedly killed me with a couple of his songs, fed me some serious love dogma, and pretty much provided the soundtrack for my twenties. I feel like writing songs again.

LOVE IS SUICIDE.

I woke up feeling restless, like there had to be something wrong. every moment in my head was a moment wasted, and i'm quite good at wasting moments-but this time i decided it wasn't good enough to think, think, think...or to feel, feel, feel. Whatever is whatever but I wasn't in the mood to sit with either the turning thinking or that sinking feeling. No siree Bob, not today. I detailed the house for about six hours to get totally distracted, in the zone so to speak, when i allow obsession to just get me there, to get me to do things i usually can't find the effort for. It's an intense energy that leaves me feeling like i'm coming down, and it allows me for hours to rediscover why some counselors say i have some seriously huge 'perfectionism' issues going on. They have said at different times that I do things half arsed because it's my way of coping with preconceived dissapointments. I polished a lotta wood and I even spent about fifteen minutes adjusting the hang of the dining room curtains. Even.

And i'm feeling a little peculiar...this whole 'not working' in the first year of your recovery thing- it's just about the only suggested action that i've had no problems with, that is until now. i am so over everything at this precise moment that i'm willing to give it all up for a shot at a 'lil' self worth, however superficial. Hell, i wanna buy things, get that familiar buzz from compulsive shopping, i want to come home with the unplanned and the very unimportant. I really needed a def leppard tee to wear on that eighties trivia night that's just so bound to happen, sometime really, really soon... fuckin A. Just do it. How many guitar pedals can one really have? the answer is arguably never enough. Even though I can't play the guitar for shit and my singing is best left for Ex's to be cuttingly honest about. Why didn't anyone tell me that i live in a rock n roll delusion?? And so tomorrow my resume will be sent off, and a desk jockey job, might just be around the corner for this little gunner. it's time to cut my hair like my dad's and it's time for me to stop looking at Karaoke as some kinda lesser form of my art. Such a wank.

A little while back, Skye had this snap taken...she's great as a subject when she's not altogether trying to look so damn cute, she can strike a pose at a drop of a hat and it's sometimes a momentous task to get her to stop. Wonder where she gets that?

i'm sick of watching television- can't stop watching television. i'm hurting internal with images of suicide bombers and i am being swayed here and there by the truth of it. I don't want a silver platter ideology, i don't want to feed into the fear of an anchor dictating that somewhere in Lakemba, an islamic bookstore is selling a book on why it's shit to be Australian...i'm caving and i'm turning into something else. I'm sick of watching television.

biologically, it can be argued my existence had but one purpose...ok, it was more or less spontaneously achieved twice over, with all the naievety and starstruckedness that my neediness intended - i am completely cool in thinking that with this particular pair of people, i can get away with a pseudo codependency and not hate myself for doing so. adoring the twosome is so OK, and if it isn't - too late. Daddy's gone gaga since forever. Hung out with them for a week and didn't really stress out too much, they wanted to start filming a movie about Goldilocks and the three bears but ended up with something altogether much more obscure.

I might have Damo come around next week from Melbourne, I haven't seen him in a while and our telephone conversations have been pretty few and far in between. I'm wondering if he's been playing that much chess as of late...looking forward to duking it out on the checkered square as i've totally been hangin for a proper game, hanging out for anything, any distraction that takes me from that seeming inevitable - all the reason in the world, all the awareness of consequence amounts to shit when your chips are down and you're on that lonely and insane road to a grand fuck up. Have to pray i suppose, hard for a person who's just got that many resentments towards being just being. Everything Zen? I don't think so. A twenty four hour plan, keep this thing in the day as they stress - that simple huh?

So i'm up past three am this morning and i've got nothing. Nada. Don't know how it happened but i stumbled onto this really cool site a few minutes ago...well that's not totally accurate, i know my left clicking here and there would have eventually lead me to something, just had no idea what exactly - but it wasn't all chance. Had that Forest Gump moment again, meaning feeling that scene, when he realises life is both a predetermination and a chaos theory rolled into one. I haven't thought about that in years - maybe my head is all sick again. I hope not, unmanagability of those feelings, the miscommunication between head and heart. I knew this would happen, i knew i shouldn't have expected goodness to just start sprouting outta my ass once i put the self medicating down. Silly rabbit.

a portrait of self delusion, ok...admittedly i am having a real self defeating kinda day, everything tastes, sounds and feels like turd cake at the moment and i'm not really convinced i'd want it any differently. i'm signing off on my recovery, no more phonecalls, no more meetings - going to try and maintain a blog instead. 

I've spent most of this day glued to this here screen. So tired but i can't seem to drag my self away. Feels like ten years ago, feels like obsession rearing - care factor - zero. Called an old friend in London, only like two weeks after all that shit went down, woke her up i think, was i really expecting that it would be the same time over there??? self centredness...ho hum. She sounded well.

ah, the quiet of a bedroom studio when the confidence starts it's timely decline. 

self portrait...one of very many.


haven't picked up the guitar in four days, is it time to do something else? how else to gain some kind of worth???

already bored with this template

been a while since i did some blogstuff and as the case in the past, my attention wanes.

upload of words (random journal)

12/4/05 four months and 13days clean.

Stressed out all day because I’m trying to figure out what’s the best thing for me to do. I got supported heaps to stay close to the Fellowship but my feelings are to go back to Sydney and to get clarity on what it is I really need.

Richard tells me he’s been sleeping with Mandy for the past couple of weeks, why did he tell me that just as I was about to leave? I had to let that one go so I shelved him with Sarah. Secrets keep you sick and I wasn’t prepared to leave with that hanging…Tanya C left today too and I said my farewell in a rushed state, I promised a song and delivered two but I had to bolt as my airport transport was parked in lot, just waiting…

Allisa and I spoke for the last time and we had to do it in front of Sarah, because of the PDA situation. She said I shouldn’t be out there waiting for her and I shouldn’t be hopeful that this huge romance will just happen when she gets out…I agreed and said I wouldn’t be. She told me she cares deeply for me and I told her the same. We hugged each other goodbye.

Just before we got up to perform, we looked at each other and we both said we didn’t know what to say. We both understood.

I felt as if I had to apologize for being so one sided and willful, I told her that I wasn’t aware it was so nonphysical for her, her feelings…

Allisa said that wasn’t really accurate - and right there and then, I didn’t know what to think or feel. Oh Allisa…dumb ass.

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bits and pieces

Fifteen minutes on Destiny…Damo, Shannon and I decided to just pick up some paper and write baby, write… this is what I wrote.

Feeling listless, fingers wasted on keyboards while red eyes stare a stupid blankness at the screen. Wishing it was flat and an LCD because in these days of tech excess one must definitely keep up with the Jones’s…The analogue world must go as all cheese in this world must expire. Like dinosaurs, like the age of giant mammals…eventually everything leads back to that great unknown – that’s destiny in a nutshell and it’s a gorgeous truth, however fatal, the only destiny for you and me is to be at one with worms and wooden boxes.

So how does it relate? Stoned and on the internet, both I suppose are an acting out of my nature, but the connection? Destiny and my lesser nature, the one that feels it a god given right to plunge needles into my arm…

Well, here’s a clumsy conclusion, death and destiny, intrinsically intertwined like mother and unborn child, my experiences the umbilical cord that feeds destiny until a certain death is born. The internet site that I’m currently staring at…www. Deathanddestiny.com – A visual representation (done with the latest Macromedia Flash) of my using and my dying.



I read that it all comes down to unlocking the self, knowing how you’ve been wired, having awareness of your core issues…like why do I feel like sticking needles into my arm. Four weeks and today I felt a shift of some kind…I’ve done it again it seems, that projection of a caricature of myself. Funny Ha ha – no boundaries, jokes are always practical and god knows I can take one on the chin better than most. Fuck you, meaning fuck myself because deep down it’s not that thick, this armour of mine. Pubic hair in soap, in my new house, in my new bathroom? Yeah laugh it up guys, it’s so in keeping with the principles of growing up…it’s so ‘recovery’

going digital in this here 'recovery' age...does this look like happiness to you? 

a relapse in the making

I'm sitting here knowing i've just got too much time on my hands. Funny that, spent years trying to find it, finding ways to spend what little of it i had and now i've got so much of it that i'm doing my head in trying to get rid of it.