"You're a good friend."
I don't want to be a friend. I want to pin you to the ground and breathe you in, tasting the salt off your skin.

"I appreciate you."
Niceties to keep me at arm's length. If only you lay awake at night wondering how my fingers would feel tracing your flat hard stomach.

"You have a beautiful soul."
Doesn't quite make up for my lard arse though, does it.

- - - -

When I've broken up with someone in the past, I've taken or destroyed all their photos of me. Why did I do that? Was it an assumption that noone would want to remember me? Or a spitefulness that, if they didn't want me, they couldn't have my image either. I'm not sure. Probably a mixture of the two.

- - - -

I've mentioned my running dreams before. Where, suddenly, I can run and skip, and I feel light and free. And my heart, my soul, takes flight. I wonder if that's how you dream when you're old. I wonder if that's the 'true' me. In my dreams when I make love I have the body of my 25 year old self.

- - - -

I always feel more comfortable with a pen in my hand. I suppose it substitutes for the cigarettes I gave up so many years ago, and the dummy I gave up quite a few more years before the cigarettes. When I have a pen in my hand it always seems as though there is some potential, and all I have to do is sit and wait for it. Words come. Of little value and even less structure perhaps, but still, they come.

And then sometimes they leave (like just then), allowing me to stare out into space with hardly a thought in my head, just all that rambling 'white noise' that ticks over in everyone's brain.

What of the stories I am to be writing. I have bogged down there. Too much. Too soon. So much. Where to stop. Where to start. Should it be so difficult? Look at all the crap I can blab on about here. And of course it doesn't have to be GOOD. It can be abysmally bad. Bad is better than nothing, regardless of my father's favoured saying "If you're going to do something, do it properly" How crippling is that logic if you look at it from another perspective... "If you can't do it properly, don't do it at all".

- - - -

I feel the time we've yet to reach
Is not yet within our own belief
But I feel sure that time will come
If it goes one and on...

I know I've quoted that song before [Paul Weller's Country] but its optimism that there will be a time of realisation is the same optimism that wakes me up with a sense of hope each day... the time will come.