A mate of mine said it weren’t a good idea to assess my life as an annual thing as often as I do. I guess being as old fashioned as I am I just like to see a new year as a time for new beginnings and a good way to asses the developments in my life. A bit like how a football team assesses it’s performances on how well they did in a season… Well the 2013 season for me was always going to be a transitional one and it was with good results when I look back on it. 2014 has had it’s moments, but Ill let the following give you the decision on whether it was successful or not. Seeing as the subject matter of this blog is what it is, this years entry is based based around the subject I love to hate the most…. Women.
The start of the year was actually pretty good. I set myself a few goals. The first being that I was going to leave my job at Ladbrokes for a 9-5 office job so I could live like a normal human being and work normal hours and have weekends and bank holidays to myself. By February I applied for one job. After 2 interviews I got it. Simple as that. Bigmouth strikes again.
The job was an administration role for a building management company. I was working in the cashiers department, I was the only bloke. The women consisted of an aging Jewish lady who’d moan about pretty much everything – everyone would slag her off as soon as she left the room. An Essex girl who defined the definition of the word stereotype, a silver spooned graduate who’d clearly given up on her dream and made do with a career at this place. A pleasant older lady who could have been one of my mums mates. A young woman who started a week later then me who’s first job it was since she had twins. She was only 25 and they had consumed her life. And the 2 team leaders I had during my term; there were an orange coloured bird who was obsessed with diets, physical fitness and making herself look as artificial as possible. She’d probably be a very pretty girl if it weren’t for all the fake tan, false eyelashes, mascara and nails. It’s sad to think that these women have been so consumed by societies ill view on image that they have to ruin themselves like that. Then the other was a Philipino bird who just plain didn’t like me.
Conversation in the office would consist of boyfriends, shopping, fake tan, diets, when they was going on holiday, protein shakes, the shit films they’d seen at the cinema and approved of and also how cold the office was when it was actually just room temperature. All subjects which I just have no opinion on. The only time I could ever get involved was when we spoke about sex, and even then some of their attitudes towards it and the way they treated men and their poor boyfriends I found shallow and disgusting. Also we had Capital radio on all the time. Which played the same 10 offensively shit tunes on repeat all day long. I lasted 3 months before I longed it off. All I had was the promise of a few roadie jobs on the summer festival and concert circuit. It was to be the first major stupid decision I made this year.
Reading that back I can see more sense in why I left but it was still a shit idea. I could have moved departments where there’d be more lads to chat about football with atleast. I really wanted to find out if their was an office 5 a side team. I did sometimes want to go down the pub with them all but I’ve never really socialized with people from work. I’m a bit of a social snob like that… or just awkward, you decide. But the thing was this was what I wanted. 9-5, hour for lunch, 1200 quid in the bank at the end of every month, bank holidays, annual leave, overtime, a bonus twice a year once I’d finished my probation. The work was dull and as a result I was quite shit at it. But I had summer around the corner and I had so many plans for it. A holiday that wouldn’t be cheap and above all else rent and credit card and phone bills to pay. No fucker likes their job. Although the money was pretty good at Ladbrokes I didn’t particularly enjoy that place either but I never left with nothing to go to because that would have been nuts. For some bizarre reason I thought it be a good idea to go back on the rock n roll – despite knowing that every other time I’ve claimed (albeit briefly thank fuck) I’ve hated every second of the experience. I don’t know what changed in 3 months. I pride myself with being quite switched on when it comes to things like that. I can suck dick if it means still being able to do the things I enjoy. My arrogance of thinking everything would work out fine in the end was about to become a problem.
Whilst in that job though life itself was pretty sweet; I was getting out a lot, was doing things I wanted like going to the theatre, booking trips away to Europe, finally getting around to buying a few bits and bobs I needed. I was living for the weekend. Around about early June I even had a playwrighter and phone sex operator sleep on the sofa for a week. We did a living room showing of ‘phonewhore’ her seminal play about the daily life and goings of a phone sex operator. Our conversations would revolve entirely around sex and theatre and turning my own living room into a performance space and doing the tech for it was a dream come true. If Phonewhore comes to a festival near you I highly suggest you get round to seeing it.
The week after leaving that job, my darling Deirdre came to visit from Canada which was lovely. Although our relationship is defined by fleeting visits its nice to know that somewhere in the world I have a lover. I’ve spoken highly about her on here before so I wont go bore you with all that again. But whenever I’m with her I do genuinely feel that sense of affection that people always go on about and it’s a feeling I hope never fades. I miss her pretty face dearly all the time.
There was an event that happened in America this year which really put my misogyny into perspective. A lad in America named Elliot Rodgers shot up his campus in an attempt to seek revenge against all the women that rejected him over the years. I had a morbid curiosity for the event and even read most of his memoirs that he published online. Most of it was just the ramblings of a privileged young man who was probably well on the spectrum – who thought for some reason he had a God given right for fanny. I have my issues with women but this geezer was just deluded. I remember reading an interview with one of his dads mates who gave him some advice on birds. He told him to just compliment a girl he liked as they walked passed him at university and see what reaction he got. Sound advice. Apparently his response was something along the lines of ‘why should I compliment them. They should be complimenting me’ If I was the geezer offering the advice my next words would have been ‘you might aswell go shoot up your school now mate. Women compulsively complimenting you in the street is rare as rocking horse shit.’
As the summer rolled by in what seemed to be a ritual of drunken weekdays and sleepless, drug fueled weekends I started to come to a few realisations and these really started to piss me off. I’d reached a bit of a dead end. I was starting to notice that I had made some very uncharacteristic fuck ups and my usual luck of being able to always blag a way out and into something new and productive had come to an end. If I can pin point a moment where things started to take a steady decline, it was a trip to the pictures on a Suicide Monday after yet another ‘No Sleep Til Sunday’ themed weekend.
I’ve told this story a few times and grew sick of telling it but I will again in case you missed it. As mentioned I thought I’d mellow my mind by taking a trip to my favorite cinema in Finchley to catch the new Richard Linklater flick. Whilst buying my ticket I heard a birds voice next to me order a ticket for one for the same film. I glanced out of interest; I glared because she was so pretty. A cute mixed raced girl with a knock out smile. She held her stare also and gave an acknowledging grin, then commented on my Screamadelicha shirt like so many do. We walked up the stairs together discussing the classic album, then I offered her a drink before the film, she gratefully accepted. We spoke about films before the picture was about to show. Took a seat next to each other and watched the near 3 hour epic about a boys life from the age of 5-18 with sheer admiration, if not on the overlong plot but the audacity of the production value.
On the way out we chatted enthusiastically on our views of the movie then as we were both unlocking our bikes I asked for her number and if she’d liked to do this again sometime. Again she shot me with that same disarming smile and agreed intently. Then kneecapped me with a crippiling line… ‘Yea that’d be great. Be nice to go see things like this with someone for a change… My boyfriend only ever wants to go see shit’….
I have a skill well practiced from childhood that hides my crushing disappointment inside no matter what news is delivered to me. This time was no exception. It’s a technique I have down to an art. I hold my smile, keep eye contact and just say… ‘cool man’. I took her number, cycled off the other way convincing myself I wasn’t totally distraught. Bought myself a kebab, got home, made my way through my house where all my housemates were in their rooms with their respective partners; laughing, fucking, chatting, watching films or whatever. Devoured my mixed donner in a few minutes, climbed into bed, wrapped my arms around the familiar bedfellow of loneliness that had seemed to take up more of the covers these passing months. Thought about what had just happened and forced the tears back into my skull. Even though I knew no one could see me.
Laughing the anecdote off as just another one of those typical run ins I have I carried on as if nothing had happened and tried to keep my self esteem in tact. My holiday to Portugal for BOOM festival weren’t far off and that kept me smiling. Then I thought I’d give the lovely girl from the pictures another text. Polyamarous relationships are all the rage between young couples today, I’ve been involved in them before, infact I am already the lover of someone in such an agreement I could easily hack it on a more close to home basis. Surely there was a chance this is where this was going?
We agreed to see the new Planet of the Apes flick. I thought this could be a sign as surely this was something her boyfriend would want to see with her (turns out he’d already seen it) the klaxon I really should of responded too in my head was seeing it at the local Cineworld. I cant stand those high street multiplexes. Overpriced, full of cunts, horrible vibe. But I was willing on the hope that maybe I was on to something here. For some reason I even paid for her ticket. Not that in the past paying for anything whether it be dinner, drinks or a gig had ever been the pretense of me gaining a birds interest… Infact if it ever did I’d have to question the motive on the brass I was entertaining.
‘My friends think I’m up to something going to the cinema with a random guy (long but not awkward pause) This is what this is right? I’m not leading you on am I?’…. Using the same technique as before…. ‘nah!… it’s cool man.’ That would have been fine if it weren’t for nearly half hour of conversation with the sweetest thing I’ve ever sat in a cinema foyer with. The heart stealing line being asked very enthusiastically ‘Do you have any pets?’ Then immediately with an almost child like excitement… ‘Do you have any dogs!?’… Dunno what it was about being asked such a simple question but I couldn’t take in much what else she was saying, it was one of those rarest of occasions where your humble narrator was smitten. Turns out she was training to be a vet… The bitch even had prospects as a bonus to her bundles of charisma and beauty.
I enjoyed the film. Was better then most of the action movie genre shite that gets released these days. She gave me a hug and I responded with a small kiss on the cheek as we left. I promised myself I’d never text her again. A platonic friend I’d like to fuck I can live with – who knows what the future holds. A platonic friend I could potentially fall in love with… fuck that. I enjoy the serene, cold and emotionless void my mind orbits in far too much for something like that to come bowling in and fucking everything up with thoughts and shit. I remember for the whole walk home I kept repeating the same thing over and over ‘Why do you do it to yourself?’
The event was to get the ball rolling for my emotional downfall. That was the first time an incredibly pretty girl has ever taken the time to talk to me and typically she had a boyfriend. I tried but failed to not let it crush my Zen. BOOM was round the corner though and I heard the birds were next level there. I never expected to pull but I’d atleast like to have enough swagger for a few cheeky winks and maybe a few daft chat up lines. I didn’t fuck anyone there, but did have a lovely lady back for a cuddle on the Sunday night. Seem to remember drunkenly trying to initiate something. Seeing as it was the last day of a very hot weeklong festival it was probably best that we didn’t. The result could have been terrifying.
If you read my BOOM entry a few months back you’d know I had a great time, you’d have also read I went there with life in the trough. The holiday did release the gauge for a bit and I did comeback with a huge grin on my face and a positive attitude for a week. I spent it chatting up the different secretaries at work, even getting some numbers and a date. With the pressure released again the following weekend was filled with pills and booze. Seeing as this was on top of a full week of cramming as much psychedelics that could possibly take effect in my mind, predictably the comedown nearly brought on a psychotic episode and then shit got really real….
That week the comedown nearly brought me to my knees, infact it did. I have this way of dealing with my problems where I use this theoretical chest in my mind and whenever anything bad happens or whenever anything really bothers me I just take that thought and put it in that box and slam the door shut… then it stops pestering me. Infact I can even hear myself doing it, like gears on a bike changing. No psychologist alive would say this is healthy and I always knew this was true. I also knew that one day it would come back to ravage me and I could sense that day was in the post. I knew that soon the hinges on the chest would give way and I would no longer be able to hold it in no more.
This comedown did just that and believe me, there were tears… over nothing. Well actually that’s a lie it was over everything. The fact my life was going nowhere. My prospects and inspirations had dried up, my sex life was stagnant and my love life none existent. The only bird I’d met recently was typically taken,,, Weren’t her fault she was friendly though. But hold on… That was a lie too, there was another bird and despite a long serving time on the acquaintance side of friendship recently we had become close.
For a while my mates had been constantly asking me what was going on between the two of us and I’d respond with ‘I don’t know’ or ‘Yea I’d like to fuck her… I’ll just wait and see what happens. Something usually does’ It weren’t until my housemate asked me (during this comedown I might add) what my feelings were for her. ‘Nothing’ I replied, purely lustful I told myself. Then with the lid of my problems box fully blown off I realised this was yet another lie I was forcing myself to believe.
With my thoughts and emotions now running riot inside my head I had to act upon these feelings that I’d been bottling up. We met up for a usual trip to the flicks followed by beers and then when it was time to leave I came out with a dialogue that in hindsight I should of delivered months before…..
It had come to my attention that despite my friends teasing me for getting friendly with this bird and despite their words of encouragement to make a move and despite even my reaction of ‘yea I will at some point’ I had spent the whole time of enjoying her company actually shying away from the possibility that their could be something more to our relationship then just a companion to go to the things we’d usually go alone to.
She wasn’t just another mate, in truth I had felt more fondness and even tenderness towards her then I had for anyone else in my immediate friends group. When these feelings started to develop, I locked them up in the troubles chest in my bonce. Safe from the light of day so they couldn’t hurt anyone. I’m terrified of my own emotions; fuck knows what someone else might think of them.
So I ended up doing something I very rarely, if at all ever do and laid my neurotic cards on the table. In all honesty apart of me wanted to be let down there on the spot. To be told that in truth we were just acquaintances that had just reached the stage of good friends. If I was told this I could have shrugged it off and gone on with my life. I’d of been gutted of course but atleast the weight would have been lifted and my head could finally have been clear. But instead the reaction I got was what I thought to be a positive one and it appeared that we’d been following the same defensive tactics. The response was sealed with a kiss and an overly suggestive offer of sex. I cycled home that night with a smile on my face and mind pretty much put to rest. Why had I not said this at the start of the summer? Infact I did once ask what it was we were doing when it all started out. Mainly because my friends would often ask me. Back then it was all a bit more uncertain and I didn’t know how I felt about it all. To be honest I just found it nice to have someone to go to the pictures with for once.
In typical fashion though and much to my anger she’d changed her tune that very same weekend and I didn’t really hear from her until she built up the bollocks to tell me there was someone else. I was fuming. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so angry with someone. As the time went on I got so pissed off I was actually scared if I did end up meeting up with her I’d end up chinning her in a pub or something and end up spending a night in the cells. But she did agree to meet with me and discuss it and also apologies for her actions. It wasn’t the first time I’d had to go for a drink with a bird so that they could apologies to me. I always find something quite castrating about such meetings. You go along and get your explanation, cleanse them of any guilt they may have, wish them well then marinate in a sauce of disappointment and stew in a pot of regret.
‘There were times when I was waiting for you to make the first move, but when you didn’t I didn’t feel the need to make it either’… Was the defining line of the conversation… Again we had been playing the same tactics. This was pretty much what I was doing the whole time. We were two teams in one of those cagey cup finals where neither wants to lose. I guess in the end I was beaten on some sort of dismal penalty shoot out.
The following weeks were absolutely hellish. The jab on the nose was her immediate change of tune. The crowbar to the jaw was the realization that this was pretty much entirely my fault. I’d never actually made any attempt at any point to see if the friendship could go any further. Like I mentioned earlier, whenever things would get even slightly suggestive I’d avoid it for some reason, I held back when I could have said something crude or daft, kept my compliments friendly and my hands to myself at all times… Why did I do that? The time spent following that apology were mainly spent recounting all the times when I could have made a move… but just never did. It wasn’t even a matter of confidence or self-esteem, I knew there were some occasions where if I did I would have gotten somewhere. This just made everything all the more frustrating.
‘It would have never gone further then that’ (in response to if we ever had it off) was another line that sticks out in memory. When asked by people what I actually wanted out of the whole thing and when they mentioned the R word I would immediately recoil and respond with ‘ooo no not sure about that’ Being the kind of bloke I am I always need to have total closure over these kind of things. In the past when fucks have gone past the 3rd date mark and onto the casual basis period and past the 6 month shit-or-get-off-the-pot time frame and things have either gotten messy or fizzled out I have always been able to look back and almost immediately know why it would have never worked out. I never had the luxury in this situation and it flummoxed me. What was even more painful was although a huge part of me would say that I didn’t want anything more then a shag… another part of me really did and that was foreign to me. I look back on this event and know the reason things never worked out, because for reasons unbeknown to me I didn’t allow it to. I never tried.
On reflection there never really was that spark or chemistry where tension built between us and this was what I found frustrating because usually it just kind of happens organically. And in the past when it hasn’t, I’ve just thought ‘fuck it’ and let them fade away and wait for the next potential shag to come around. One of the many things I’ve learnt over the years of observing other people is that chemistry can be mixed and sparks can be ignited and if you really want them too then you have to actually work hard to make it happen. This was a lesson that was bearing great similarities to many other parts of life.
Another thing I can preach about the experience. Infact I may have even spoken about it before… The bird you’re interested in most likely has the same feelings towards you. If like in this case you are in close contact with each other on a near weekly basis for a fair amount of time, both thriving for each others company. Likelihood is you both want to nail each other. Birds want to be fucked, slapped, spat on and cummed over just as much as you’re willing to do it for them. You just have to test those waters. I never did this. Infact I look back on a few occasions throughout not just the past year but through my active life and there have been a number of occasions where a couple of birds must of thought I had a stick up my arse. I wont go into that because those stories are boring. Unfortunately male stigma has made us out to be sleazy, gropey bastards and if you’re like me you don’t want to be labeled as just another one of them. So you refrain from a hand on a leg, you get sheepish when you tell her she looks pretty, you may even change the subject when it looks like the conversation is taking a turn for the saucy – even when you’re next question is a probing one about their sexual preferences. To save face you’ll play the frigid card, much to your endless frustration.
It’s like getting passed the CV stage of a job application going to the interview knowing that you have the knowledge, skills and experience to take on the role. Only to end up um’ing and r’ing your way through it and not appearing to be committed or arsed about it at all. No cunts going to employ you with that attitude. No bird will be bothered with you either. Why should they?
Without going about those tactics the right way, you’ll always only be friends with them. Yes you will meet birds where you’ll automatically click and end up fucking on a first date and you may even end up committing some years of your life to said brass. But when things aint working and you want them too. You have to (to some extent) become that sleazy bastard that makes you cringe. If you don’t then you’re just going to have to be grateful that the two of you are atleast good friends. And you know as well as I do that usually that comfort just aint the satisfaction you want.
Now I have a list of excuses as long as my arm as to why I never even bothered to make a move and I’ve played back all the situations where I should have been more forward over and over until I nearly puked all over myself. There were times when I felt the two of us were too pissed, there were times when one of us would have work in the morning and would have to go home. There were times when she would come back or invite herself over and the house would be filled with people having a drug night and the atmosphere wouldn’t be appropriate for such actions. Although occasionally when these nights would boil down to the two of us I’d be so crippled with the Jonny shakes that the whole thought of anything like that would turn my stomach. There was one time in particular where I genuinely was on the verge of taking a shot at goal, and I was pretty much staring at an empty net, but my mate and his smack dealer wouldn’t get out of my room. By the time they left it was early morning and I just wanted to sleep. There was even one memorable night when it was clear that our relationship really wasn’t a platonic one but even after the reassurance of that I still didn’t do anything… I ask you listeners… What the fuck was I doing?
But when I truly think of the core reasons why I never did anything I put it down to a deadly cocktail of the following…
Arrogance – I had this constant reassurance like I did with other aspects of life where I had the mind set of ‘everything will work out, it always has before. Just hang about and something will come up’ I didn’t feel I had to work for anything.
Laziness – Not achieving anything from over indulging in drugs and alcohol is the definition of the deadly sins Sloth and Gluttony. Also as mentioned above, putting off jobs until the next day when there aint no reason not to do them now is one of the worst attitudes a person can have.
My alarmingly depleted sex drive – wanking habits are at once a week or less. When I did shag birds this year it was mostly because it fell on my plate, or I paid for it. I can only recount one occasion where I genuinely got the horn this year and that was in a hot, paradise setting surrounded by stunning naked birds. Sexual thoughts and fantasies have been at an all time low for sometime now.
But what I think the main reason was the very damaging misfortune of not being able to open up that side of my personality to people. And I now have come to realise that this is by far my biggest flaw…
I’m not going to attempt to dissect the male disease of hiding ones emotions. But put it this way, I can sit here and recount the most intimate and grotty moments of my sex life to all of you. I find it hard to blatantly lie to people and I can get vocally passionate about the things I love. But try and get me to express emotions that may make me vulnerable or that may seem foreign to me and I just cant find the words to spew out of my mouth. I dunno if it’s the social fear that I may be deemed a fagget or the more irrational theory that I may have Asperger’s. Whatever it is, like my drink and drug intake I’m starting to notice that its become a bit more of a problem for productivity and development then it was when I was in my late teens or early twenties.
The end of the summer and commencing autumn months were nothing short of horrible to be honest. I was on the verge of lobotomizing myself so I’d stop thinking about all the fuck ups I’d made in the last few months. I was working a job that even though I loved, the pay was dyer and as a result had begged and borrowed off friends and family and had become a ponse around the house. I’d made no attempt to find a proper job for ages, I felt constantly exhausted, had taken up smoking again for some reason and my diet consisted of Special Brew, sainsburies meal deals (with a haribo or krispy kreme to treat myself) and Iceland own brand suppers. I had calmed down on the Jonny though and our house came to an agreement that we’d lay back on the wild drugs nights which for me especially were starting to get irritating. A whole summer of hearing the same symphony of my mates wired up in my living room. Telling the same anecdotes, sharing the same opinions, playing the same tunes, spending all our poppy on the same shit drugs to the point of fiendish behavior. It had got boring. I had quit a perfectly stable job, fucked up an opportunity with someone who reached the rare height in my eyes of being seen more to then just a friend. All the things I wanted to do, buy and see had mostly been swallowed up by the desire to spend the weekend in shoveling research chemicals in my face. Also I was slumming it at home and bringing my mates down with me. It took a near breakdown to realise this and when it all hit me, it fucking hurt.
I remember very vividly this nightmare I had during it all. I don’t usually have nightmares anymore, not ones like this anyway. I dreamt I was in this cold, decaying house. In the house was Her, the mates I’d borrowed money from along with a few other people whose relevance I don’t remember at the moment, and they all had their backs to me and I couldn’t get their attention. One by one they all disappeared around the labyrinth of this horrible, decrepit gaff. When they had all disappeared I was stood infront of the front door alone and then it starts to rattle violently as if someone or something from outside was trying to get in. In a panic I run over and bolt the door shut but still whatever was on the outside was still banging away until it suddenly stops. I reach up on the frame above the door and peer out the window on top of it. There staring strait back at me was this frightening, old face on the other side. I woke up screaming which never usually happens. Covered in a film of sweat with my heart beating out of my chest. I couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t know the face staring back but I recognized him. All weathered and scarred with a look of sadness, filled with defeat. It was a face I hoped I’d never see. The face of failure and I was on the brink of becoming more familiar with him.
Those late summer into autumn months are notoriously hard for me. In the past they have been some of the worst of my life. Besides the over indulgence and becoming everything I resented it was again a fuck up with a bird that was the jewel in the crown of shit. This was by no means a fuck over though. I still have the upmost respect and a lot of love for her. She’s an amazing woman and it’s my fault for pretty much treating her like every other slag I’ve fucked by thinking we’d end in bed with each other at some point with no effort on my part. She means a lot more to me then that. If I’ve gained anything it is a close friendship and that is by no means a bad thing for anyone. I hope it continues and at some point we can forget that weird little period.
One thing I will say about our whole time spent together though – my intentions weren’t always entirely lustful, and I wasn’t like head over heels in love with her or anything. I was just dead fond of her. Still am really. Mainly I just enjoyed her company, and when we’d meet up it was usually just because I wanted to have a drink and talk bollocks to someone who was quickly becoming a very dear friend of mine. And that’s what she is now.
I’ll give you some advice you probably already know, but I imagine for a select few of you you’ll find it useful… Don’t hold it in! If you find yourself in a position with someone where you have to confront your fear of becoming emotionally vulnerable, just go for it. Even if it does make you look a dick or a fagget and even if you stumble on your words and feel like an idiot just do it. If the person is worth it they’ll be able to understand that it’s hard for you. Whatever you do at least try. It’s an old saying but you do really only regret the things you never did. If you’re too much of a pussy to do this like I was then you deserve to feel every ounce of crushing disappointment and self-hatred that buckled me towards the end of this year.
It’s ashame really. I can always find a better paying job, I can pay my friends back, improve my diet and start those hobbies I keep telling everyone I’ll take up anytime, I am only 24. But that opportunity with Her is now well and truly wasted. Unfortunate timing really because I know I really aint been myself as of late. Not been at my best. Aint as cheeky or as witty as I remember being. Nowhere near as sharp as I was a few years back. Lost my swagger so to speak. Even my writing has dipped in both quantity and quality as you may have noticed and I find that ashame because it’s the one thing I can do that you all seem to really enjoy. If we’d have caught each other a few months earlier this might have been a different blog. To be really honest I find it all a bit embarrassing. My actions just didn’t make any sense. A pretty girl with common interest who I get on well with and I sat front row the whole way and watched the opportunity fly away. A pity. But ah well what can you do? It’s her loss really.
During and after that debacle I did have a couple of shags with a bird who was a big fan of this blog. Infact she gave it the best analysis it’s ever been given and even motivated me to write an entry. She also said I was fascinating which is one of the nicest compliments you can give me. Unfortunately though both times we met I really weren’t on form and she got 2 of my worst sexual performances. If you do still read this, I am sorry.
Another bird came in the form of an old friend that I become so distant with I’d culled her from my facebook friends list. Out of the blue she text after acquiring my number. It was nice to hear from someone I had all but forgotten about. We met for lunch and I couldn’t help but notice her constantly mentioning her brake up with a boyfriend. I may be a dozy bastard at times, but I could see where this was going. I have a great strike rate against rebounding opponents. I think it’s my complete emotional detachment from the sex itself. Birds can fuck me and not expect the clinginess in the morning. I’m also very discreet when I need to be and I happily act out any sexy act their ex wouldn’t do without judgment or even question.
The two of us had been friendly in our teens, but she was one of those serial monogamists who seemed to always be in a relationship. Even when I had her on facebook she must have had 3 or 4 boyfriends in the 6 years that I stayed in contact with her. She’s a pretty girl but I never really found her attractive like that. Needless to say the sex we ended up having was one of the most violent shags in my life. If it weren’t for the 15 minutes of penetration it would have just been 2 naked people in a bed fighting each other. The best bit being where after exchanging a few blows she caught me on the ear with the palm of her hand, stunned by the blow I retaliated by punching her in the mouth, knocking her back and even busting her lip…. She loved it. I’ve had birds in the past who’ve been asked to be punched in the face but for a number of reasons the main one being that there is no other reason for a bird with a bruised face then the fact it came from a clump. I actually really enjoyed it. I do only need to slightest excuse to hit a woman though.
Unfortunately though things with her ended on a bit of a sour note. I went down her ways to watch the football, after the game she invited me back. Being that it was a Sunday and I weren’t really in the mood for the 16 mile cycle back from her place to mine I declined the offer. When she suggested that we’d have sex I replied that I really weren’t up for it. She got offended and said ‘why did you bother coming down here then?’… That’s another thing that in my experience pisses me off with women. They moan constantly about geezers constant nagging for sex, but put the boot on the other foot and they quickly become total dicks about it.
What really got me down about these two shags is that I didn’t feel anything for them. I just did it because I thought if I didn’t it may be a while until the next one comes along. As horrible as it may sound these two birds – lovely though they were, haven’t even made it into the wank bank. Sex without feeling is poisonous.
In amongst all this though I did have a job that I adored. It didn’t pay well and I was living like a pauper for months. Not a lot of people can hack a cycle courier job in London but I took to it like a duck to water. I loved the freedom of the city, the disconnection from the rest of society, the infinite job satisfaction a day of plentiful deliveries would give off. All the tramps and down and outs I came to recognize. The comradely with fellow couriers, all the different buildings I got to explore. Spotting different celebrities and even my mates whilst at work was good fun. I even got star struck by Thom Yorke one evening. Above all that I was fit and healthy and was getting great pheromone highs. It also gave me a lot of time to think about how life was going. Even though this was torturous at times. I will miss waking up looking forward to going to work and I will miss the praise given to me by my controllers for a job well done. Most of all Ill miss the calluses on my hands and permanent black mark on my palm.
As the months went on though I started to notice that as much as I love the city of London, it was starting to bring me down. It’s a harsh and unforgiving place – just like real life, which is why I love it. But sometimes it can get on top of you and its no shameful thing to crave a bit of time away. With everything that was going on I needed to do what anyone in my situation would do. I needed to run away as far as possible.
Couriering did also give me the opportunity to chuck loads cheeky chat up lines and compliments at secretaries and birds in the street whilst on the job there was one amusing anecdote with an all to familiar theme which I shall tell….Now!
One Friday I was on a bit of a winning streak, day went well, won a fiver on a scratch card, nailed above my quota on deliveries. I was in a good mood. The day before I had got chatting to a friendly bird who worked for a different courier firm. With my day going so well I thought I’d clock off a bit early and a thought ran through my head ‘It’s been such a great day, wouldn’t it be great if I also bumped into that friendly bird from yesterday? I’ll ask her for a drink if I do’ So just as I turned off my radio and got on Tottenham court road I looked over to my right and sure as shit there she was walking her bike up the pavement. We walked and chatted together for a while. Mainly about bikes and work which is usually the practice between couriers apparently. Then as we reached Camden I told her about my winnings and asked if she’d like to drink them with me. She declined saying she was tired. We got on our bikes and continued chatting and she mentioned she was going on holiday. ‘Where?’ I asked… ‘My boyfriends sister has bought some land in Spain so we’re going to camp there’ I weren’t even disappointed to find out she was taken, by now I was starting to find the cliché hilarious. So I thought I’d have a bit of fun. If she had a boyfriend, I had one too. I spent the rest of the cycle spilling this bollocks about my boyfriend. Ofcourse I used The Boy as the template for my fictitious other half. During the whole time I was spouting this bollocks I kept thinking to myself ‘I wish The Boy was my boyfriend… he’s amazing’ Which is true.
I didn’t get to see much of him as id like this year because he was off enjoying his wonderful life, and that makes me really happy. No one else deserves the ride the gravy train as much as him. No bird or no other human being for that matter has ever come close to stealing my heart as much as he has. I often get this sense of guilt when it comes to our relationship. He’s always sorting me out one way or another, emotionally or financially and asks for absolutely nothing in return. I fear that sometime I take advantage of him. One of my main goals in life is to make it up to him one day, to make him feel the same pride for being my friend as I have for him. It’s hard to achieve that because the man is so switched on, he don’t need no one elses help in life and because of this he spends most of his time helping others. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to being in love with someone. He’ll always be my primary lover even if I never do get to fuck him.
So whilst all this was going on I was on the verge of declaring happiness bankruptcy. I’d succeeded in becoming that guy I detest the most. That ponce who never has money for booze or gear, uses all his housemates stuff, constantly waffles on about all these pipe dreams he never gets round to doing but still has an arrogance about him. I was starting to rely on other people to help me through life and I fucking hate that! I had the ego but no self esteem. I took risky gambles with no plan B. I’d go and brush my teeth at night and would realise that the person I hated the most was the fella who looked back at me in the mirror. That had never happened before. I had to run away! Anymore time spent living this lifestyle and there may not have been a way back. I prayed, literally prayed to God or any other higher power out there that would bother listening that somehow, someway I could get out of the prison cell I had built around myself. Then one night I blacked out with my facebook page open and then when I woke up God had answered…
An old friend had offered me a job in Thailand. Producing a series of promo videos for the website of a rehab centre. I tried my best to keep cool about the proposal and was very careful with who I told. The way things were going this could easily be just another one of those pipe dreams I have that never materialize. Then as the weeks rolled by it all got a bit more serious and then one night during a drug abstinence I was sat round with good friends when at about 4am, just as I was about to polish off my last drop of Special Brew I got an email notification. It was my tickets, no stopping me now. I wracked up a huge line of gear and got off my head all weekend in celebration. This time there was no comedown to speak of. ‘Fuck it dude I’m going to Thailand’ became my answer for everything.
That same month I also bid bon voyage to a very special friend of mine. Michelle, (who featured in my last Women themed blog) was off to travel South America for a year. I was sad to see her go. I welled up but I didn’t cry. It’s going to be tough not having that person who will answer the phone and patiently listen to me no matter how drunk or pissed off I am. So many times this year she’s been the voice of reason and has helped me through some really tough times. We even had a little adventure to Amsterdam together which was great fun. Despite that emptiness now I am so happy for her. I noticed that even she hadn’t been herself for a while and she needs something like this to freshen her up. I remember at a festival last year when we were sat around all solemn on the Monday morning she announced ‘I’m going to South America for a while next year. I decided that last night whilst I was dancing’ and sure enough she did. That’s one of the many things about her I admire, when she says she’ll do something she always goes and does it. A woman of her word.
With Thailand on the horizon all my worries started to melt away. The results of the last few months stopped playing on my mind. I wasn’t getting woken up by variations of the same nightmare all the time and couriering was starting to become quite profitable. The opportunity was initially for a month, but got extended as soon as I got there. This was it, the biggest adventure of my life so far. A chance to finally do something that could help me break into the career I have craved for so long. One of the last in the two remaining keys for true happiness and a content frame of mind.
The atmosphere of working in a rehab is an odd one. I feel smug for being a user around all these t-totalers and people in recovery. But I am getting involved in some of the activities here. Doing yoga, Pilates, exercising at dawn every morning and performing a duty that I’ve trained for nearly 8 years to do. The most helpful treatment I have got involved with is mindfulness. A way of thinking and meditation that helps you deal with stress and anger and just general being mindful about how you live your life. A frame of mind that gives you the tools to brush away the fuck ups that you now have no control over. It’s been amazing. Whenever I get blindsided with the thought of one of this years failures I just think ‘what can I do about it now? What is the point of getting worked up by it?’. As time has worn on these intrusions have become less frequent. There is rarely a day of work where I don’t go back to my little Thai house not buzzing with pride, a feeling I haven’t felt for a few years now. I am working 10 hours a day, 6 days a week with a day off to blow off some steam. I feel like I’m achieving, I feel like I’m progressing. I feel that this may very well be the start of something. Now when I go to brush my teeth of an evening I give a cheeky wink to the handsome bastard staring back at me.
That being said, like the clients here in rehab I am concerned that my return to the UK will bring on a relapse of old behaviors and the potential of returning to absolutely nothing may be a major trigger. I am confident I’ll be fine though. I don’t feel angry all the time anymore. Infact I look back on the past year and I cant believe how angry and desperately unhappy I was at times but did nothing to change it. I feel rehabilitated.
I hit the self destruct button in a huge way this year. I wasted so many opportunities but have learnt a lot. There are still times now where I will be blindsided by a thought that will make me shudder and say ‘Oh why did/n’t I do that? What was I doing? Why did I think that was a good idea?’ But there is no way I can make those mistakes again. There’s been times where I’ve been so angry and disappointed with myself that its actually made me physically sick and that is not something I want to go through with again in a hurry. But you need these periods in life, a life without lessons learnt really aint worth living at all.
I have had a lot of fun at the same time though. I have made a few other close friends this year and have become closer to a lot of people who were otherwise a bit sidelined. A few mentionable shout outs too.
The first one being Nags with whom I shared a house with for 6 months. It was nice to have a mate in close proximity where we could just go out to the park, listen to tunes, neck a few cans and shoot shit until the sun came down. I also really enjoyed the nights where we’d just stay in, stick an album on that we’d think the other person would enjoy, watch films till the earlier hours and again just council each other on whatever shit we had going on positive or otherwise. A heart of gold that man. A real mate.
Another shout out goes to Lily who is my other housemate’s missus and ofcourse I’ve gotten to know her better through her frequent visits to the Towers. She’s been nothing but supportive when the ocean got rough and expressed a lot of loyalty when I needed it the most. It is also nice to have someone to gossip with also. Is nice to know a fellow gobshite.
All the old guard have still been amazing and those cunts need no introduction, if they haven’t received it already they will have plenty of praise publicly in the near future. But I will give a special shout out to Dinn, who I never really give the public praise he deserves. This year in particular I have noticed how much of a good friend he truly is. On top of being a great partner to talk nonsense with, Dinn is also a really great listener and there have been a few times we’ve sat up getting obliterated together and he’s listened to me spill so much bollocks and has advised and encouraged me in many great and wise ways. What also makes Dinn remarkable is his seemingly limitless stamina, even after 3 days of 4 raves, no sleep and little food, he never drops form. He’s a man who uses quality over quantity when it comes to wit and always seems to find the best in people and even tolerate the intolerable. On top of this he is one of the most kind, genuine, generous and probably the most hilarious geezers I know. I raise a special glass to you, my 2014 ‘friend of the year’– The Indestructible, superstar DJ Dennis Wise
Another special shout out of course goes to Dylan, who saved me from London just at the right time. Whilst being here I’ve finally been able to see just how hard working he really is. Performing a service to people who are usually extradited from society. He is a genius and a grafter, a comedian of the highest caliber and also to my privilege – one of my best friends.
Been a few others like my other respective housemate Josh who I’ve also enjoyed becoming a lot closer with this year. Saying that I burnt some bridges with one or two people and I’ve been thinking of assessing my relationships with a few others for that matter. I think I’m reaching a stage in life where my development as a person is changing my perspective on some people around me. Not a lot I can do about that. You cant stay friends with everyone you meet in your life. Don’t try and force yourself too.
But overall the vast majority of my friends have been incredible. When I was in trouble they came to rescue me. I feel terrible for some of the favours I had to ask. Like borrowing money, it makes me feel so dirty. My first port of call when returning to the UK will be paying off my debts and reciprocating some of the favours I had to call in. I hate losing my independence and cant thank my friends enough for putting up with my moaning and being such a liability.
As far as my relationship with women goes or more to the point my relationship with love & relationships, I’ve been deliberately hiding that side of me. Too scared to make myself vulnerable because in the past when I have tried and failed it’s been crippling. But atleast I fucking tried and that’s something I never did this time round and I felt terrible for it. My only real concern is the rate that I meet women who I bond with in such a way, or more to the point make the effort to see if I can bond with them in such a way. I mentioned earlier about situations in the past where looking back I think a few birds were trying to express an interest only for me to get all cagey. This has to change. When I think of the 20 odd birds I’ve shagged only 4 have gotten past the 3 month period and that feels as depressing as it sounds. But what really bothers me is the fact that I’m nearly in my mid twenties and I’m making mistakes with birds that I should have learnt from when I was in my teens.
My time in Thailand and even my encounters back home in London have now made me bored of casual sex… I’ll still do it. But I’m tired of feeling alone all the time. I’m tired of having no trust for women. I like to think I’ve got a lot of love in me and it be nice to share it with someone. Sex is all secondary really, I’ve had lots of different kinds of sex with lots of different people to know what its all about now. Aside from ‘fuck a midget’ I’ve pretty much ticked off every goal on my sex to do list… and it’s a long list! I’d just like someone to do normal stuff with really. As much as I enjoy my own company it’s always better to be able to experience it all with someone else and look back and laugh at it with each other.
Some few months ago – I cant remember who asked this but as a fan of the blog they queried me on whether my casual approach to sex and cagey way I deal with my emotions has had an effect on the way I view women. I used to deny that it did, but it does – It’s actually been incredibly damaging and I can now reflect on a few memories where actually I could of made some progression with a few people if only I hadn’t been so closed off and afraid of what might happen. I sometimes think that maybe my misogyny is my own fault. That I’ve subconsciously worked my way into self fulfilled prophecies with women as a way to justify my views. Food for thought maybe.
Most valuable lessons of the year? Never underestimate life. You really don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Try hard and work hard at everything you do, stop waiting for tomorrow when you can do it now. Good days pass, but bad days get better. Also stop beating yourself up over regrets you now have no control over. There is no point. Just acknowledge the thought and let it pass, soon it will stop haunting you.
Overall though it aint really been a bad year. It started well and for a while I was doing good. Granted I made some daft decisions and didn’t act on urges that I should have but otherwise I think I’ve done alright. Ok now with the year closing I am 24 with ambitions to find love and a career with my current record showing that I’ve shagged over 20 birds but never found love and have been employed in over 20 jobs with no career to show for it. That being said I hosted nights of culture, traveled a bit, am now working in a mystical time zone performing a duty that if you’d of told me I’d be doing 3 months ago I would have called you some kind of cunt. I’ve had my work published for the Independent, there’s word of one of my films being shown on Channel 4, I’ve been published in the NME and am working with one of my best friends and one of my rock n roll hero’s. I’m experiencing a part of the world I thought would have taken me years to travel too and I wake up most days feeling focused and go to bed feeling fulfilled. I’m savouring these days because I know they will end. I still haven’t had booked my flight back to England yet….
Thank you for your reading and support over the last year. More of the same.
Happy New Year
Play me out Mozza….