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.