the tracks that crossed

part 2

Can it be that a few bad choices of friendship and allegiance can scar a person for life ?

No one will know unless you start stabbing your family. Prozac duly dished out to those who will accept that this is treatment. Catharcis? Cause avoidance, too much public money. Self help group then? Confess with your face? Blush? Eat all pride until you are sick. Face the power of the group and the helm taking it in some form of positive retning.

Knowing when to get out. This is a parents thing true? Kids are so committing. Junkies to the anarchic fun they found. Sheep to the leader kids who end up in the chair discussing their neglect as a 4 year old for a hundred quid an hour, 5 mins start and tea. So the bullies cry and the bullied or easily lead fall back into accepting all the little 'fates' which are actually 'fait a complis' dished out by the new bullies in the work place. It pays to play politics.

Can a couple of bad choices mean a life scentence of never making your own mark and then flagrantly rejecting praise from other people when it comes?

Ok - so just on the rocks. But the expectation is for me to change and be under the thumb. Temper ban for me with the threat of cessation of contract, yet I know it will go on and on for her. General level and then PMT- almost two weeks of the østrogen-progesterone battle, one week bleeding...what is in between is subject to ego.

I hate it. Knowing I have to bend and bite my lip while she raves on at me. I used to be a peace keeper and for that anyone can read 'failure in relationships' because in avoiding conflict it merely postpones it.

It's about freedom, and if I want to loose my temper or go out then I will. We in this age wait too long to setttle down and get too aclimatised to choice luxury. The transition from dating and holiday bonding to 'same dewelling', bide-in, is tough and usually brought on by a litttle happy accident- or the sound of her bio-life clock tick-tocking each career move.

What happened to all those years? Late twenties. Bang, woof. Gone in a series of could-have-beens and long distance romances. The romance is the travel, the separation and the neophilia. What is underneath is just the same but emotions get a little carried away with the gettting on and off planes thing. Saying bye bye on another marble concourse.

All the space. It just gives you more space. You commit, holidays are booked up, visa cards are near limit - sensible pay down timetable- and you have bought your place because you know she does the same. You are booked out for those passing interests you used to putt dodnw as nnotthces on the bed post. No need to impress anyone or find out if dipping your meatt in some other squelchy flesh is novel. But even more time to do your own thing.

You don't really want to be that lonely guy- oh I'm nott really looking, just on thte lash with some mates- in the over-noisy nightclub. Scene of the flash dressed, skinny body shouter- all kroppspråk and no substance. Trophy hunters whom the odd, beautiful yet nice girl gets cinicised by. Oh god Morrisey you misery you were masterly with your summary.

You don't let yourself get paranoid with good long distance and a culture change either. Can't afford to or you will go mad. You give good old fashioned trust and hope she does the reciprocal and you forget about those coffee breaks she goes to with male digital animators or her divorced persuantee.

So after the distance, the elastic stretches and only two things can happen at the two year iin point- now thirty something, gasp that disco scene. Friends speed dating others holding out for that perfect one. The elastic for this two year stretch can either snap, and all is lost: flights, god that was why the graduate debt stood fast on interest minimum capital pay down you fools.

Then it can ping. One side of the sea, the other or hey a new start together elsewhere. Endless holiday or 'travel' - wanderlust sated by a seal of double jeopardy. Recipe for stress. But ping you will to her family side no doubt. You fish out of water must now make a new mark.

So take my word in your shell like and make her move to your country and don't stay on the backfoot all your life, waitting for a look-in with the new circles before you have let the roots of togethernness grow on your own terroir.

Should these many tracks have crossed?

The blogg of a casaul follower in life


What was it that happened to me?

All my life I have been making many relationships only to break them. Most of my life I have been left feeling that I was undervalued. Not of as high a worth as most around me.

I first remember being melancholy when i was four. I think I had actually been left alonee in the house. I was in the corner of our wonderful bay window. The view had enough to keep me interested and relavxed oveer many years. But this quite early memory was onee of sadness, without any real cause. I held a toy car transporter and I felt depressed.

David, merrick and eric. All a bit 'smarter' than me and more assertive in what they wanted from the moment by age 5. Me, well a bitt slower annd duller, a bit more reflective and more of a casual follower. Uncommitted annd so from the outside a bit faint hearted. These guys were kind of inevitably my freinds beecuase I was not to be a leeader of cowards, but a casual follower of the brave. Did I cast a shadow on my own life so early witth this choice of stream to swim in?


Then they all moved away. My three best friends, be they a bitt wild, unkind and poinless. Plucked away. Poverty, polittics of boundary and navy. From my last contnact and internet searches, two of them still are pointless. One has gone so far as tot change his name, such a drip he has run down his own nose and stream of apathettic intellectualism. Latest project- cappacino society. Of some enterainment to himself. Maybee he aspires to produce those quirky dokumentaries. No. Too public, too, too proletariate and accessible.

Bitterness talks. But they left me feeling below where I should have been and in fact David probably did pipp me to places in the 'top sets' in P2. I was left with the joiners sons. They didn't want to do sums. They wanted to piss about and laugh and be 3 again. Maybe I was in top for arithmetic or Eric, my greatest eego adversary was. I was left with a feeling of inadequacy. Frustration. I mena kids of six should not feel this. Not deep down.

I actaully held four ace cards. A blonde, far away littlee skinny peter pan. Lived more in the woods than at home and had a curiousity which was surely that of Genii. His lust to gett beneath how things worked must have been much the same as the young Darwin or Newton. Unfortunetly it went along side a kind of detachment and destructiveness verging on the autistic. An egocentricism which ran to throwing any game he was losing in, yet rubbing in any win with a smirk. Curiousity became taintted with a need to take away others creation which followed him for many years, eventually cuttting back as a type of self orientated-death wish.

So ran tthe train in the night and the tracks crossed and the points were set by a devil in the darkened signal box, his handsworking ot the glow of orange lanterns and a small ember fire.

The end of another relationship. More have ended than continued, and so, if this is happening, come I upon the vacancy time. Do we choose to follow the wrong pathways and in so doing make this all too inevitable?

It is not just those of love and committment. Passing acquantances, mentors, allies and even those who would be the golden fleece to me, have all been cast aside by one crime of omission or the next.

Yes, now it is a loved one. A woman whom stood by me longer than most. She went through some bad times with me and I also had then humility to out last tthe minor turbulances of a move of country and a child.

Disbeleif at my own stupidity, rage, irritation and self centredness. This feeling also when I reflect on the love, tolerance, patience and warmth I have given.

Now comes the waste, the emptyness which follows the anger and the tenacity. Routes to peace suddenly exhausted and exasperation that this is finally the end.

Only this ttime it has complications. Practicalitiees which should of course be addressed and concluded with amicable agreementts. True, enough latittude for the future unexpected or possible. Yet I am compelled to go along with it all, like signing a death cerificate. They ensure the process is not halted by emotions. In fact they rely on the numbness to close a few agreements here and there.

OnlyI will not be numb.

I have learnt two good practices, yet never practised them. Firstly close down communications and block tertiaries, so to lett them sit in the dark and neither ttake out their anger nor sate their guilt. Secondly, having established control of channels, show your emotions and anger. Make it clear that this split causes trouble in our small worlds, and that disagreeement and unpredicabilty are the only certainies ahead.

The box they want to put you in has four sides and a top and bottom. If any three walls are in place it is the end.

The side walls are agreement upon the need to end. How bad things have gone and how it is your fault. Your behaviour, peresonality and eeven soul is all wrong for us to exist as an item. This is their 'object directtive' means of avoiding guilt and protecting ego, and of course it is a doublethink and a moment of madness. Now the negattives are stacked to tthe exclusion of any positives as this haze period is entered so they can resolve in one rirghteous slash, all that has wronged them.

The top is the rejection of tears which blocks you in, but the final comes from beneath and is thte practicalities. He exhange of amterials, tthe use of cold lippeed freinds to deliver items or give access to the rooms. Places of love and warmth now like a graveyard. " here lies our laughter, 2002-2005." " Once a beatiful thing, taken from us in the spring of life"

With a child too, god knows what awaits me when the sixth denial comes.