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.