over and out...

there is an end coming... i can feel it! I sound like a soothsayer but I am hardly ever wrong about these things. The important question I hear asked, is 'when' and that I cannot answer dearest reader. If I knew that I would be bracing myself for the impact but right now there is only a feeling and little else.

There is nothing wrong with endings... getting there is the hard bit, otherwise I do not mind them at all. I am a natural fan of beginnings of course but still...

I guess I am impatient... and tend to lose focus far too easily for a man of my age. I also tend to react pretty badly to criticism not even malicious criticism but anything other than "it was wonderful, well done u are a genius" has me ready to give up whatever it is I am doing.

The truth is I like the iteration... bouncing ideas of walls.. well other people really. It is crucial to me I have realised.. I have also realised that I might never 'might' it but the fact that I took one giant step less than a week ago still sends shivers up and down my spine. And I still have more inside me, pouring out...

Some weekends are thin... like water or even air. Others are thick... like almost-dry mud or quick sand. I had a 'think' weekend, full of energy and change of scenery, noise, tension, tenderness and exhaustion.

By Sunday evening I was ready to give up and then I realised that I can no longer give up. ''Quit" is no longer an option on the menu and I felt all the better for it. This morning I woke up with a weird sense of energy even though I was completely worn out the day before and I think this is the reason why. I no longer struggle with reality; I have just about given up on peace and quiet on demand and instead start to come to terms with controlled chaos at the best of times. It works for others so it might as well work for me. And why not?

This is the dawn of a most productive day... even though it is afternoon... the juices of creation are flowing in quite an unprecedented manner.. one Act down..

this week is made of paper... like origami... I am not sure why! origami is fragile, it is also fake and colourful. Not sure what this impression means, not sure where it comes from. I m not thinking of it in negative terms and certainly this Monday started out with a lot more promise than my previous week.

A crystallized realisation has formulated in my mind, visions of the future that might not be as distant as once imagined. And that keeps me going. Weekend also kept me going, and that is now my daily-fuel, snippets of weekend keep me going all the way through Friday.. that is how important these couple of days have become to me. Thanks to both of you.. and i don't mean the days, you know who you are.

Just how do we connect to people? is it every day-ness? is it sex? is it 'love', the feeling of connection? It is baffling to me how bridges are formed, maintained, left to rot and eventually collapse.

As a married man I have often wondered this in my quest for betterment. It is not easy task of course and it requires at least a degree of insight and understanding. I am not sure I understand anyone, let alone my wife, her dreams and wishes but the aim here is to understand us and our dynamics and that is where the connection comes from.

Reading back on my entries it would be easy to imagine that I have somehow contracted a horrible mental illness slowly dragging me to the pits of depression, insanity and ultimately a slow, deranged death. I mean they are hardly uplifting and for the life of me I cannot understand why they are not.

Every time I start writing with the best intentions and then all this comes out. It could be my idea of therapy and I 'exhale' all these negative thoughts but obviously there is something wrong with my surroundings or with the way I process all this information. I have this constant feeling of 'let-down'... somehow... somewhere and an unfaltering sense of betrayal. I am not sure how to explain it. Hence my writing comes out all twisted and out of shape. Because I am funny... I mean I write funny, I laugh a lot but lately everything has been decreased and I am tired, just tired of fightin...

OK so blogging is like sending an email to noone and everyone at the same time, one of those random 'spam' emails we receive on a daily basis from friends and friends of friends of friends, in the address book of whom our emails simply appeared... It is also therapy, an instant gateway to cyber universe, like opening a window to a starless night sky. The truth is that blogging is everything and none of the above; I am actually writing more or less regularly even though I am convinced and I in fact know that noone is reading any of these posts or at least most of them.

So why go on? Because writing is about sharing to a very grand scale, and i write and i will post it up here even if noone gets to read what I am writing. I would love for everyone to read this, I cannot tell a lie but it would it make a huge difference to the content? probably not... what it would do is give me pleasure, and lots of it, but somehow I was not destined to derive pleasure from my literary skills... which is kind of a bummer really, because deep down I would have liked to... really really really liked to....