WASTED

Oh the tangled web we weave. There is song, from decades ago, that has words in it that bear such a close resemblance to the consistent thread through my life at present, 'but I'm just a soul whose intentions are good, Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood'.

It is finally dawning on me that my interactions with those around me, with regards to misunderstanding, is genuinely a two way street. Although sometimes there's roadworks with confusing signage and much disruption, causing delays, at times, but yes, it's a two way street.
My understandings of my interactions with those that get close to me, are very often misunderstandings, because my interpretations are clouded by my desires. These desires probably bear no relationship to the reality of the situations i find myself in and the interpretations i give them. Equally the person, or persons concerned, are probably doing the same thing! The result is still the same though, i feel such enforced solitude, due to my inability, or bad timing, to establish clearer understandings and acceptances of those i seek these things from.

So how does one get around these cloudy perceptions and misunderstanding? If only i knew, i would write a hefty coffee-table book about it, and make sure it was on sale for Christmas, sell millions of copies and then i could afford to buy some friends!!! But seriously, i think my personal problem, and I'm not speaking for everyone here, is that i place too much importance in words, gestures, deeds, text messages, drunken outbursts, beautiful moments, frustrating disagreements and practically any other type of interaction with the good the bad and the ugly people in my life (i hasten to add I'm finding difficult to think of anyone that is ugly in my life, except for the fleeting glimpses of my own reflections!) So, maybe it is down to me to curb my desires? Having said that my desires are very often based upon my needs, and to that end it is difficult to curb a desire that is a need. It has been said that wisdom is being at peace with what one does have, rather than being frustrated and upset by what one doesn't have. I would like to think i agree with that sound philosophy, and it is sound. I do have a lot of things in my life that i am thankful for, but there are other fundamental things that i don't have. It's those things that are at the root of my desires/needs. So how does one stop being frustrated and upset by the continual search for these desires/needs remaining fruitless? Be patient, that's it, be patient. Let these things come to me. So, i'm waiting..... still waiting.....still waiting, oh sod this, lets just get wasted, that'll solve everything.

COLOUR SUN and SIMON DRINKWATER at THE JACOBS LADDER INN, thursday 18th November 2010

The thing about Nick Drake’s music is that, even after 36 years since his untimely death, it remains mystical, and to that end, it is left entirely open to interpretation, to both the listener and would-be performer alike, with sensitivity or otherwise. This Thursday evening’s tribute to the late composer and performer, Nick Drake, was undeniably performed with the former. For those that had the good fortune to be present, it was one those very rare cases of being in the right place at the right time, when those that will hear about it after the event, will kick themselves for not having been among the chosen few that where present to soak up the warm and loving music that was pervasive throughout the evening, a musical experience that money could never have paid for.

From the very first ripples of sweet harp music right up until the last cover number, performed by Jeremy, Fiona and guest Simon, under the umbrella of Colour Sun, most, if not all watching and listening, where spell bound.

I defy you to tell me last time you where in a pub when a musician managed to silence the whole room for 15 minutes and only two numbers. That is exactly what Simon Drinkwater did, opening the evening with his graceful, subtle and passionate harp playing. To say that you could hear a pin drop in the spaces would have been no exaggeration. Was it the unusual choice of instrument, or the heart-felt rendition of the songs, or both? It is hard to tell. All I know it is that it is the only time I have been in a pub when people have rushed out of the door in order to answer their mobile phone, so as to not disturb the magic.

Colour Sun, with Fiona on fretless bass, Jeremy on various open tuned guitars and Simon guesting on guitar (with and without violin bow) and glockenspiel. Continued the evening with a mix of their own numbers and a handful of Nick Drake covers. I’d like to think that Nick himself where looking down on the evening and thinking that if he’d wanted a group of musicians perform with him, these where the ones he would have chosen. If for nothing else but because all the songs where performed with equal passion and intimacy, that made for the ingredients of what was a truly special evening for all those attending.

It is likely that a performance like this will not happen again soon, as the whole event was the coming together of so many elements, as the sum total being so much greater than any individual. And, as I have already said, it is properly about just being in the right place at the right time.

THE SECRET OF SUCCESS

It is nearly two months since I've written anything, but the song remains the same (out of tune and boring i know), and this is how it goes;

Still i am disquieted by my own mind, my heart, my soul. Surely i have everything? A roof over my head, a family around me, working in a job with my hands, and i am reasonably healthy. Yet i still seem to be running in sand emotionally. This feeling of being alone whilst everything is essentially really OK is such a luxury I know, as there are millions of people that real are suffering with a lot more immediate problems, much more serious than the emotional cravings of a middle-aged middle-classed mediocre sufferer of stereotypical midlife-crisis wank. And to that end, perhaps i should try and be less selfish. But, in my own defence, it is still predominant and pervasive throughout everything i do and think, which is doing my head in. Will i ever be happy with my lot?

So what do i do? Stop mincing around, be a real man and just get on with life, and consider myself lucky? Or sink even deeper into a self obsessed whingeathon? I wouldn't mind if all of this was making good art, or at the very least, making a good living out of the drive it/my mind possesses. But all it does is descend in the form of a dense fog over myself and, subsequently, over those that have the misfortune to be closest to me as well.

There are times when i do have fleeting glimpses of what is close to euphoria, and these times i treasure. These moments seem to be fairly random in their apparition, and make me realise that they are driven by outside forces, not by my own will. By this i mean that i am not the instigator of the euphoric moments but i am experiencing the moments as a result of someone or something else. I would like to point out. at this time, that i am realistic enough to understand that i do not expect these wonderfully fragrant moments of time to be hugely constant, or consistent. I just have a yearning for them to be less sparse.

Am i the only one who thinks this way? Or are you all blissfully happy and at one with yourselves and your world? Do let me know your secret of success if you are. Also , is there anyone out there that understands what i'm trying to share here? If so, please say something. In the mean time, if there is anyone out there that knows me well enough, appear to me and give me a laugh, and maybe some chocolate too.

THE POWER OF THE WHINGE

I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing this. It's been over a month since I've written anything, and that was a large amount of bollocks anyway. 'Searching', searching for what? If i didn't know myself better, I'd be wondering why i was doing this at all. All this introverted, self obsessed whinging and whining. Anyone would think i was really Lost In Space, certainly, at least, in my own world.
It is a great luxury , to be able to whinge so publicly. To be able to bare my soul, and get away with it. No one's really interested anyway. There's only my mother and my conscience reading this stuff and possibly taking it all in, and i seriously think one of us isn't really remembering any of it, and I'm not thinking about my mother here.

So, where am i anyway? In life? In my head?
Who knows. One day up , the next down.
I guess i thought that i would be in a life less ordinary than the one i have. Not the stereotype, not the rock star, the racing driver or the famous footballer type thing. More about achievement, personal achievement. By now i would have hoped I'd been so profound in something creative and loving I'd done, that i would have influenced others to go on and be equally profound. That sort of thing. Something truly beautiful. But yet again, isn't that just a luxury? to be creative, artistic?
Surely there's enough suffering in this world, without the nonsense that I'm thinking n fighting with in my head every day?
Perhaps I'm starting to believe my own bollocks, that i real am. really am what? Able to create beauty and change things or people?
Or perhaps it's all about reaching out, needing to be wanted, loved, understood? There I go again 'Love, acceptance and understanding', It's certainly a common thread in most of what I seem to be writing.
So this is it, either it IS about just that, needing love acceptance and understanding, or it's all a load or pretentious wank, all bollocks.
You, my friends, have the power to decide. Oh what power you have over such a tortured soul. What a luxury for all of us.
Yes, it's a great luxury to be able to whinge so publicly and get away with it.

The power of the whinge? None at all.

IS CHOCOLATE THE ANSWER?

Increasingly, I'm finding that I am desiring food, thinking about it all the time. I'm even going to bed thinking 'what shall I eat tomorrow?'. Cereal, bread, fish, bacon, anything with sugar in it, especially chocolate. Drink too, tea, tea and more tea, and then some strong coffee to wash it down with.

Am I having a growth spurt? Or am I craving because I'm pregnant and I don't know it? That would explain the belly that increases girth with the weeks and months. Or are these cravings replacing something I'm missing or not getting, a substitute for something?

I was told the other day that I looked like I was searching for something, and I know I've written about this before on these tiny pages, so it's nothing new to the few that read them, but this particular friend has never read any of my ramblings so perhaps she has a point. My initial response was 'aren't we all searching for something?', and it took a fair bit or persuasion for her to qualify her reasoning for saying so. This may have been because I was a little harsh in my persuasive questioning, as I was surprised that I might look like I'm searching, because, up until now I always thought I was internalising my 'searching', mainly to cover my thoughts as they are not always in line with social acceptability as to what I might consciously or subconsciously be 'searching' for. I thought I was doing a great job of hiding them!

I guess that I should question further what it is I actually look like when I'm 'searching', is it all the time or just part of the time? I did press the young lady concerned a little , in order to alleviate my paranoid concerns that I might be advertising my thoughts in neon signs where ever I go, and she said that I looked like I was 'looking for adventure'. This, equally was a suprise, and I feel there may need to be more questioning when the time is right, but I've always thought I was the un-adventurous type, the stay at home type, the 'travel in my head' type. So I find it a bit of a surprise that I might be giving off these twin impressions of 'searching' and 'adventure'. Perhaps I should be questioning myself a little more too.

Perhaps I should just buy another bar of chocolate.

GLASSES

Did you know that i like my new glasses a lot? They are varifocal, which means i can see long distance and i can read clearly, with the same pair of glasses. Not many people know that.

A MAN AND A WOMAN

Quite a few decades ago, when I was a burgeoning grown up, I lived in a city that promised me so much, and yet all it gave me was the freedom of movement that only comes with the anonymity of a ghostly shadow. In those fallow years, out of any significant relationship, I had a time of writing stoned out stories alone with accompanying doodles, folded them neatly, putting them in envelopes and sending them to a woman that lived hundreds of miles away. She was my friend, and yet she was a woman.

It is quite possible that she no longer remembers my name, any more than I do hers. But the memory that is still etched in my mind, is the naive hope I placed in her. For I craved the love, acceptance and understanding that I thought was possible between us, even if I was only wanting these things from a woman who was never my girlfriend, only my friend. I have been left with the underlying perception that our friendship was solely based on her polite acceptance of my quite, but persistent desperation. Perhaps she could have saved us both the time and just told me to fuck off years before.

It has been said to me on several occasions, and quite emphatically, that within a friendship of a man and a woman, not only that it is unlikely that it will ever be just platonic, that there is always be sexual tension, but also that the woman are in control of the stop and go signs, that should they want to, allow the man to step over the line.

By stark contrast Simone de Beauvoir, in her insightful book The Second Sex, gently submits the idea that all woman wish to be dominated, taken control of, loved and protected by their chosen partner, a warrior in tweeds and golden rimmed spectacles. So here is the question to all ladies out there, who is right, my wife or Simone de Beauvoir? Surely this is a paradox of such extremity and fundamental understanding that it cannot be answered so easily. perhaps it is a mix of the two thoughts? As we all know, life is never as black and white as the written or spoken word, there is so much to consider here, and probably never resolved. But I am a simple and confused man, and, as with most men, I feel I have to fix things, to feel I have done something useful, positive and life affirming. But this seems to be out of my control and in yours. Is it we, as men, that have been subliminally allowed control of a few islands in our lives, such as the dish washer and the garden shed? Whilst beside us our women press all the required buttons. Or is it that women quietly and passively want us to push those same buttons for ourselves, in doing so taking control of our relationships, what ever they may be.

I am genuinely confused, i find it hard taking control of my own life, now i find out that i might have to do the same with someone else's to. So if you know the answer please help me know what tools to get our of my toolbox so i can start fixing it.