Thursday, March 3, 2016



I wish you well.

We aren't as good mates anymore. You are married now with a kid and that's fair enough. I wish your family the best.

I don't wish that we were friends like we were before. You have changed and I have changed. There's no regrets about this fact, just acceptance.

I do miss how we used to be close. I do regret that I upset your wife by mistake and she got pissed at me.

I do get that you have to take her side.

I won't forgive how shitty she was to me back at me. I'll take it out on you

How I will take it out is that I'll make our contact and our friendship minimal. I'll get you nice gifts for your birthday and for your kid's birthday and for christmas or whenever you invite me to things.

I'll be nice to you and ask how you are. I'll do one or two solids for you from time to time if you ever ask.

But you have changed into someone I wouldn't have been mates with, and you don't approve of who I am, nor do I care what you think about your petty judgmental nature.

We were good friends, the best of friends. For that fact we have an immortal bond that iwll tie us together.

But you've moved on and I think that's great. I've also moved on and I'm trying to work out if I'm in a good place.

I don't envy you, envy entails some modicum of jealousy. Pity, maybe, that you have such a cruel wife. Your brother tells me how cruel she has been to you and how she has been taking a lot of your money.

I wish you well, but not much more.

You have reminded me of an ugly side of myself. I have to face that ugly side of myself.  I'm staring at it and I'll need to stare at it to acknowledge its there.

I hope I can change that ugliness or make it go away. But its not your problem, its mine.

I guess I'm writing this post to face that ugliess, that thing I don't like about myself.



You were my mate at uni. We didn't have many friends. I figure it was our difference to everyone else that brought us together. Plus a love of the equalising nature of philosophy. We became flatmates at first, but we then became good friends.

From the beginning our relationship was defined by us being housemates and our MSN conversations which seemed endlessly long, going on to the early hours of the morning.

I remember you always began our chats with 'yo'.

Something happened.

We fell apart, we drew apart, I dont know the appropriate fucking words. I realised some problems in my life and I went through some changes. My depression got pretty bad in 2006-7 and I got in the hospital. I started to purge.

You never brought up my depression, but a friend told me that he talked to you about my behaviour becoming more and more erratic. It was the typical sign of dudes that we dont talk about feelings and vulnerable stuff. I had depression, I had anxiety. I had eating issues and it was fucking with my mind a lot.

I couldn't pretend, I didn't want to pretend. I didn't want to be a guy who talked about everything else but the thing in front of me (my depression). Our relationship had defined lines like how it was predominantly through MSN chats.

We drifted away. I started to know some women, and you were increasingly judgmental of other people and eventually, me. I didn't like it and I didn't like the underlying attitude.

For that reason I cut you out.

That's my reason, but I know it had consequences. I didn't explain, I didn't want to explain and I didn't want things to go back to how it was between us. I thought htat I didn't want an 'us'.

I think about you from time to time. When I cut you out like I did, I regret it. It reflects on something inside me that I don't like about myself.

You came to my flat in 2008 when we submitted our dissertations. You asked me point blank: why did you block me on MSN? To attempt the least painful way out I lied: I didn't block you. YOu walked away, you mumbled something as you walked off. We didn't say a goodbye, to some extent we didn't need to.

I'm sorry mate. It reflected a shitty part of me.

I had to change. At the time I felt that I had to cut you out.

I still think of you, and I miss the part of me that became 'us'. I miss 'us' to some extent.

You were one of my few bros.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

another update on my life:

My new years resolution was to observe a diet and fitness plan.

Guess what? I'm actually still observing it. I'm on month 3 of my 3 month plan. It doesn't involve determination and massive amounts of effort and willpower (well that's a lie, it does). The true key is consistency. The true key in the consistency of aiming for my better body isn't a bullshit prep talk or having some idea or platitude in your head that makes everything in your worldview seem rosy and inspirational in a way where you will go forth and change the world and yourself.

It's me, the key is me during any given time.

Its me during my 6pm break at work where I go to the canteen and I see food options: quinoa crisps or walkers? coke or coke zero? sushi or sandwich? Lasagne or salad?

It's when I'm at my desk and I think about getting a hot drink - hot chocolate or coffee? coffee or tea? milk or no milk?

It's when I finish the gym and I walk out: Fast food or not? Fried chicken or fish shop? Fish and chips or just squid rings? no chips or no can drink? walk home or bus home?

Lots and lots of little decisions.

Right now my deciusions are:

stay up and do desk stuff or go to bed and try to sleep?
tidy up your bed or pack your bag for tomorrow?
Pack bananas and protein flapjacks in your bag, or wank?
blog or not blog?
Leave clothes on the floor or hang them up?
Put dry clothes away or go to bed and do it later?
watch tv or work?
work or go to bed?

In fairness, my life system does mean that I've overcommitted to things I want to do and realisitically I must admit that I can't do it all.

I'm working on the system, It's not perfect.

I'm not perfect
I still feel my demons
I still have night terrors

an update on my life:

I'm working 3 jobs at the moment. One's a 2 day a week affair. One's a 3 day a week affair, and one's a 1-3 day week affair (and they overlap).

I have trouble organising my food intake but I find planning ahead (and protein flapjacks) have been helpful. I find having a bedtime is extremely useful.

This is almost the situation that I've dreamed of. Except no PhD. I do wonder, if I actually did get a PhD, my life wouldn't really be so different. If I had Marie as a lover all those years ago, we probably would have broken up again and my life would be just as it is now - more or less.

I feel like happily ever after forgets the mundane shit in life.

I work a pretty hectic and active job, I spend a lot of time in the gym. I find that my favourite time of the day (and this is kind of aspirational), is when I look outside the window on my 2nd floor desk and stare at the beautiful london skyline. I stare and see a brief reflection of myself and the bright office lights behind me. Then I see the darkness beyond and the street lights, the buses, the everpresent roadworks and building sites. In this fantasy I'm holding a cup of tea (no milk, milk upsets my tummy) and I just think aaaahhh.

That's usually the moment in which I realise I'm a grownup.That's the moment when I realise that I'm pretty boring, or rather, I aspire to be boring.

when my piano teacher died i was upset


I remembered him during the periods where he was at his best and when I saw myself at my best with him. I am thinking about this now. When he died I was upset and it took some months to realise how much he meant to me. I acknowledged that towards the end of my time with him we used to argue. I acknowledged that.

But there's one period of time I didn't think much about.

The period after. After I stopped being his pupil, after he stopped being my teacher. He was still in the family as he began to teach my mum. I would see him from time to time. He remembered me of course, and I remembered him. We still had memories together

But, something was different. The relationship we had was no more. We were almost like strangers. Sort of like how I imagine amicable exes are when they talk to each other, they talk, they might even relate, but it wasn't what it was.

I haven't thought much about those years, I knew him for about 4-5 years in this capacity, as someone who I vaguely saw from time to time, we talked. But I wasn't the student anymore, I wasn't as good at the piano due to practice.

I think about this because after he died I got back into the piano, I got sort of good again and I started to learn new skills.

I imagine what he would have thought if he knew the version of me that rediscovered the piano and started playing again. I think about that because I could have just have easily been that person while he was still alive-  I think.

I think that I am being overly nostalgic in the sense that if he was still alive, I would probably still be quite cool and distant with him as I was after I stopped being his pupil. I think to myself that I would have said to him all the things about what he meant to me, but I probably wouldn;t have if he were really here.

I think about that and I think about the people I know now who are alive, once they are gone, I'd probably feel that I have lots to tell them, about memories we had and what they meant to me.

They are alive now.

I probably won't say that to them now.

If they hypothetically died and then came back to life full time again, I'd probably still not say those things.

I think we thing about the dead in a rose tinted way, it may even be sincere, or we think it's sincere. but if we imagine the counterfactual of them coming back, would we really tell them the things that we felt after they died. Perhaps we would tell them, and then, it's how things were again. Back to normal again. Until they presumably die again.