In the moment, the clarity of the seconds where the self exists I am wallowing
The now is a draining flow of self disrespect
I take what little dopamine I can find from the stories we build in new interactive and technologically enhanced ways
Because I can't seem to let go of when I spoiled the party, showing the people an abstract cancer inside myself
Maybe its the remnants of wine and revelry that juxtaposes against it which gives me reason to indulge in the bitter
Maybe the alcohol and carcinogens are a physical drain I should take into account
Or maybe showing these people that I still am behind, am weak against my personal struggles, maybe its something that I'm ashamed of

This is shame I'm feeling after all
Over something so stupid, and forgettable, yet..
Symbolic of a burning desire that scares me
Anger, the need to fight, shout, scream and 'win', whatever that means
Would I lose it if I stood in shorts and gloves and made the other man fall?
Or does it represent what I think it does?
An emasculating realisation of time lost, friends no longer friends, a face in the mirror that still isn't good enough
As much as I try to love him

I don't know
But now some people I respect know how pathetic my anger can sound so..
You'll have to forgive the self consciousness
I'm thankful for knowledge, friendship and the direction I've manifested out of the madness
I think after giving my body a push, my equals a Hello, my crafts an hour and a bit of a shaping
I'll be fine

I just I don't like being angry

Let's see if I can find this
In such greyed out statues that I desperately dream what little colour is left from
These memories scorched into my sense of self, eyes and hugs and reminders that at some point I may have deserved love

Three faces come to mind
Maybe one or two more to remind me where things could have gone

Either way
I try
To let go of you
Who make me want to let go of pride and cry
But ******* I'm a man you won't take that from me
You ******* memories

The new looks I get in the blur of life's loving aesthetic
One of these days I will take a chance
On those **** ******* eyes that say
Wake up with me

****

Love's hard
Especially when you've had it before

Its fleeting for most of us
A cluster of subtley sweet tasting minutes
That special treat that takes off your stiff shoes and lets you off the hook
As the juggling act of adulthood takes over, we learn to really indulge once the crowd has clapped and thrown us a coin

Some people like conversation, a joke or a new perspective
Some people like chocolate, swimming or TV
Meditation and massage, *** and cigarettes
Or a drink and the chance to reminisce with a friend

I find as I wonder what next in this gradual development of body and mind through questions and note taking and pushing the press up and stressing and stressing that I'm just not good enough rushing and impatiently pushing towards the dream and the identity I'm obligated to chase

...


That when I'm done, I really like a good cup of tea and a sit down
Its good to relax

It's funny, how such simple things can be the joys we need
Not always throwing ourselves open first into situations and hoping we'll land content, although it can be fun and necessary to do
Risk being unhealthy, but gestation and fear being more destructive
There's a middle ground for the day to day though, I find little joys from the process and the tiny prizes that I give myself
A zen fifteen minutes here, an empowered hour of engaging with my story there, before burning away however much else plugging into someone else's story, someone with a much bigger budget than me

Amongst the purposeful process is a gradually more certain ****** dormancy looking ******* at me in the mirror, and yet smiling when I take his shirt off
Vanity is a sin, but after years of being a teenage *******, this little sin is okay
A little smirk to remind me why the girls give me a stare when I hit the streets, or sit at the bar

I can't help but obsess over the need to offer that fantasy girl a drink
A nice slice of normality staring me down from across the bar, reminding me the ease with which all the social stuff I stressed over can be validated with a smile

I go into a month of bohemian benders and meeting old friends, an age where I'm far too old to feel so young and alive the cynics would tell me
Yet I also look at the boy in black who was so lost in youth, and take pride in the man I'm making him into
Forging my goal with pen and keyboard taps, whilst going through adulthood's motions in a lucky dip of a workplace
Cerebral self consciousness aside though, I think I'm in danger of being happy for once

I'm enjoying the scales of process and prizes
The routine of putting my body through it's paces and then giving it an exercise that feels like it's not there at all
And the development of something I'm really starting to feel good about
In a post studying space where I'm suppose to fear for who I am becoming in the eyes of the taxpayer,
I'm kinda fine carving my own sculpture without worrying who'll see it

I just need to stay away from shy, from doubt
Because if I put myself in the right position, and take the simple step with all that abstract weight
I might find someone to share this forward momentum with

It may be the oxygenated blood talking
Or the recently relaxed mental state
Or maybe the calculating chunk looking over things ahead
Whatever it is, I can't complain.
I'm feeling ******* great today.

So I find myself here again reader
Having indulged in the burning of meaningful metaphors
Having decompressed a touch from the pains of the mirror
I'm once again a flux of self in the dark
Wondering in futility over all I can do nothing about

Goals, life, potential love, and the greater state of a country amongst a greater, if flawed, geopolitical river system
And everything about my identity that ****** me off

I'm going to try and let it bleed from my fingers onto my covers
So the mind can just be a mind and let me dream
And maybe the man who found those particular days so hard

Will find tomorrow a little easier

So...

Amongst the immersion of the externally influential
Big bright screens letting me play hero, or watch others create unreal stories
Clutter building as the forms get done forgettably, the washing gets washed, the bills get paid
I take a moment to self indulge, just a little more in this first world bohemia

But.. how do you make tangible a feeling from a song? A memory of a smile? A dream of a success you haven't constructed..

Keep chipping away the boss says
Keep your head up the friend says
Keep in contact my mother says
I do, but forgive me for feeling fraudulent spending so much time and money on mindless self indulgence.

It's the ones who do what they aren't told who create their own destinies the old ones say
It's the ones who refrain from giving their identity to icons of fame I find myself feeling, a certain hypocrisy found in my dreams of great cultural figures giving my success a piggyback
It's the one who swim among the people in natural confidence that gather gratification in bohemia and ***
And it's the ones who set up barriers through the anxiety built from our own cages, that get left behind.
At least, that's what they say, without saying anything..
I'm trying to prove them wrong, I want to say.

I'm trying to create a world that feels pure, and other times feel fraudulent
I'm trying to create people that represent something other than my misshapen perceptions of social conduct
But I'm also wasting away in front of the screen, the digital *****, and that shames me in my useless solitude
And I'm also losing ups to downs, lost in the past, lost in loss

But.
I know the baseline, the cracked open truth and the value of a smile
I know the beautiful siren call from finely picked singers whose fruit tastes better
I know the man who stands naked leaving the shower, features defined and eyes determined to become more empowered

Piece by piece, question by question I'm on my way
I hope anyway... it's very easily to lose this up to a down, to lose direction to a shattering of self
But as I draw out the baseline with more clear features, shading defining a face and words defining principles
The wild clusterfuck of falling down becomes an abstract with a tangible definable outline
The overall structure of where I'm going put together on paper and trusted digital files
So... I feel a little bit more control

Forgive me though reader, brief friend who allows me openness among strangers
If I fear that I could grow stale and fat as a manchild with too many toys
Or crash through paper floors into an old skin that burns so easily
And forgive me once more for allowing myself just a moment
To step away from this hilariously comfortable life I clatter all ****** up through

So I can have a beer, a cigarette, or a cup of tea
Sit amongst peers, incense or nature
And smile to the fact that I might be doing this right for once

So I had more than I needed to drink, enthused away the heavy
Managed to let go of it for long enough to be an approachable friend
And fall flat on my face on the dance floor, and lose my bottle and bag to London's foreign legion
It was a good night and a warm reminder of why I'm here

Forgive me though if I'm brought back to those same old nags
One is a permanent part of the programming
A variable that resculpts moments, sometimes with a lack of clarity, otherwise too intense a saturation
I'm not here to talk about it, but the context needs to be there

The other is that same old chase of the cats
Throwing yourself with arms behind you into an encounter without even realising it
Because that one took your hand and let you kiss her

I remember the moment, and nothing else, the evidence of failure only found in drunk texts and a phone that's turned off
Really hits home after a while
Weirdest thing is though.. is that I've taken a lesson from it
One that for some reason gives me a sad smile, and yet an empowering one

If I relax into life, work off the coughs and work on the plans
Ease off the deceptions and distractions, as far as I can
I.e. just carry on with this stupid self involved process
I'll have another moment like that somewhere along the way
Whether by circumstances I've put myself in or by the random roll of the dice

And this time, instead of the worst crashing in front of her in ways I don't even remember
I'll be ready to show everything that's good about me
And if that last girl's look was anything to go by

It'll be enough