Stiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirike!

And yes, I realise that’s not how you spell ‘strike’.

 

I feel like this blog should take on a slightly more ‘formal’ air today. For the first time in many a week, I have arrived for work today fully clad in suit, shirt, and tie, something I only do if there is a meeting. Being the summer, however, only 6 of the scheduled 20 attendees are coming. What a laugh riot it should be.

 

Sadly, I’ll probably just say ‘fuck’ a lot, and that’ll be that.

 

How are you this morning blog people? This blog is now officially receiving over 60 hits a day, which is about 59 more than I expected, so thank you to all those who are tuning in.

 

Today’s blog will actually (most likely, anyway) be the last of the week. There was to be a tube strike today, (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/7571141.stm) so I hurriedly booked 2 ½ days holiday so I wouldn’t have to travel to work in sardine-like conditions on a bus, or walking, skateboard, or any other mode of transport I could muster. However, late last night, the strike was called off, and I feel like a right schmuck, to coin a Jewish term. Never mind, with the bank holiday, I’ll be taking a not-at-all earned 5 day break, which I plan to completely waste, aside from my weekend plans. Hurrah for me!

 

However, I would like to do some writing this weekend, so I have a request of you, dear readers. In the comments section below, I’d like you to suggest a plot for a book – it can be a beginning/middle/end, or just something really simple like ‘little Johnny discovers he can fly’. You give me the premise, and, i’ll write it! Then, at some point over the weekend or next week, I will use one of my daily blog entries to display my efforts for your comment. If your idea is porn, that’s fine, but bear in mind the sort of crowd we’re going to attract on this blog if I publish that…

 

Come Tuesday (or perhaps Monday) I’ll report back on everything – on Hellboy 2, which I am seeing on Thursday, despite never seeing part 1. On (hopefully, if I can reserve a table) going to the Jazz Café in Camden Town with my friend Zein on Friday night. On my Saturday adventures with my friend Danielle. On Sunday with my friend Orly. On yet another probable disappointment by my team Tottenham Hotspur, and on a bank holiday lunch with my cousin and friend James, and that continuing theme of ‘reconnection’. And of course, if I remember, anything funny that happens in-between.

 

So, until I return, have a wonderful few days, remember to love yourself (ahem) and each other.

 

Lots of love,

Closed Box

Free Sex!

There’s never a 70’s porn album lying around when you need one, eh?

 

How are you today blog fans? I am having one of those days where I don’t like the sight of my own face, and I look like I got dressed in the middle of a heavy beating. I’m not depressed – actually, I feel rather chipper – but I’m having whatever the equivalent of a bad hair day is when it applies to just… everything.

 

Anyway, the theme of today’s blog is love… down and dirty love.

 

Get your mind out of the gutter.

 

Yesterday, I received an email from a friend, who was beating himself up because he had lost the will to say ‘no’ to a second drink – a disaster for him, because he had been so proud and happy that this urge had gone after he left the process.

 

You know, I am not qualified to talk about much. Chicken sandwiches, which I pretty much live on… yeah, I could school you on that. Pointless, endless blogging? Yep, I can tell you all about that. And the ‘urge’? Oh you better believe I know about that.

 

Let’s talk about the ‘urge’ shall we?

 

Follow me here for a moment. The human emotion is a scale – 1 is depression, 5 is equilibrium, and 10 is… lets say, going with the theme, great, mind-blowing sex. Most people spend their lives actively fighting to stay at 5, but they do it by constantly searching for a 7 or 8, and the subsequent failure leaves them at around a 4.

 

Imagine going across the scale of 1 to 10, crossing at the number 5, is another scale, say… it’s labelled A-J, leaving a scale of human emotion looking like a ’+’ sign. This axis is your spiritual self (for my Hoffman people) or simply your conscious mind for those unfamiliar with this term. For example, you could be a ‘5A’, which would be settled, but unhappy about it/restless, or you could be … ‘1J’, which would be revelling in depression, and fully immersed in your so-called ‘dark side’. In this model, our centre point, and I suppose by definition our point of satisfaction, is ‘5E’.

 

Open a new word document at work at home, or wherever you are, and put a giant cross, as big as you can fit on the page, smack in the middle of it, and print it out.

 

Going clockwise, write a ‘10’ at the top axis, a ‘J’ at the right, a ‘1’ at the bottom, and an ‘A’ on the left. This is a (very) simple ‘me chart’.

 

Like I said – and I stress, this is only my contention, and by no means based in any other facts that I have thought up this morning over tea – most of us exist around the middle – a ‘3’ or ‘4’ when we’re in a bad mood, or our negative patterns are particularly evident, or a ‘6’ when we’re in a good mood.

 

Most of us are aware at any point that there is room for improvement – like if we’re at work, and we’re feeling a ‘6’, we’re probably saying to ourselves something like ‘I’d be so much happier with half an hour more sleep’ or ‘I shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine’.

 

Unfortunately, not ALL people exist within these barriers.

 

When we are fighting against something – depression, a bad mood, negative patterns – we normally try to combat this by actively engaging in behaviour or acts that allow us to feel something more, be it great sex, ‘I’m going to go out on Saturday and get smashed’, or perhaps retail therapy.

 

Temporarily, this raises our spirits to a ‘7’ or an ‘8’, but this is where the horizontal axis comes into play, as it is my contention that you’re actually sliding to the left, and to a ‘B’ or ‘C’ with it.

 

And this is probably about where the email yesterday came in. Realisation that you’re a ‘7B’ or an ‘8A’ leads to an immediate drop to around a ‘4’ or worse.

 

Mentally map what I am about to say. Let’s say my friend starts at a ‘5E’ one day. He goes for a drink, and enjoys the first one, which raises him to a ‘7G’ – a point of happy contentedness. Even though he is out having a good time, he wrestles with the prospect of that second drink, which drops him to a ‘7B’ or ‘7C’, at which point, when he finishes is, he drops to around a ‘4B’ or ‘4C’ as he feels disappointment that he couldn’t say no, or is drinking – which may have been one of his patterns. Now we enter a crucial phase, and this is where all our Hoffman teachings come into play.

 

At this point, depressives will drop further, possibly to a ‘2’ or ‘3’, before levelling off as the self-disgust (and/or other) fades away.

 

What I have learned, and what I hope my model will begin to illustrate, is to recognise when I am a, for example, ‘4C’. This self awareness, that I am entering a bad pattern or cycle, or beating myself up, should give some sort of relief, which takes us back to the middle, at which point (hopefully) relief takes us over the to right side (ie, ‘4H’) before returning us to our equilibrium point of ‘5E’.

 

Again, at this point, there is a danger. And this is where the urge comes in.

 

In the Hoffman Process, we learned much about vicious circles; how they affect and dictate to us.  Imagine our diagram above is a real place, and we’re walking it. If we follow what we have set out above, and we are heading towards the point of ‘5E’, imagine there is a sign before you, with two arrows and directional points. One says ‘give yourself a break’, and is labelled ‘5E’. The other, ‘the urge’, which is labelled ‘7H’. The direction you take is intrinsically linked to your levels of self love.

 

‘The Urge’ is a killer, make no mistake, but it is not the be-all-and-end-all. At any point, you can allow yourself to say ‘no’, turn around, or just allow yourself to be who you are. This stops the patterns repeating themselves, and, as my friend found out, the prospect of beating yourself up. ‘The Urge’ is most certainly that bit which takes you all the way to the ‘7H’, before dumping you much further down the road.

 

Corny as it may be, the simple process of ‘5E’, ‘7H’, ‘7C’, ‘4C’, ‘4H’, before returning back to ‘5E’ looks distinctly like heart – and that’s because, in this model, it’s about recognising that which we do, or get ourselves into, and allowing ourselves to exist.

 

I realise that what I have written for the most part is gibberish, but it is based in something very clear I have noticed, and since this is my blog, I can say what I like! *sticks out tongue* This model, this recording of behaviour, can actually help us identify what sets us off. Instead of crossing a mood on the map, sometimes (and I stress, this is mentally, I don’t walk around with pieces of paper with crosses on them) I write an event, so I can map how I am feeling. Say with eating – I indulge myself in eating something I really want – a popular choice here would be something with buckets of sugar in it (7H), which leads to regret (7B), beating myself up about it (3/4B) and then just letting it go. Mapping this in my head illustrates to me that one of my patterns/cycles is ‘indulgence = regret/self loathing’, and it stops me from repeating it.

 

Perhaps it would be worth just mapping your own today. I am no expert by any means, but its certainly worked for me, and whether you’re my friend beating himself up for that second drink or feeling ‘the urge’, or whatever it is that troubles you, at the very least, you’ll be self aware, and that’s what our entire process was about.

 

Do it, friends, I promise you, you’ll feel better for knowing. Then, you can give yourself a break, enjoy your life, have a second drink, and even, if its your poison, some good old fashioned guilt-free sex.

 

Until tomorrow

 

Yours incoherently,

Closed Box (6E today)

 

PS – Feel free to leave me a comment, perhaps even just a number and a letter, letting me know how you feel today.

 

PPS – Lots of new things to play with on the side of the blog. You can now easily access past posts either through the calendar, or the last ten entries are now listed at the top.

The Dark Night(s)

And yes, I know it’s ‘The Dark Knight’, but more on that in a bit.

 

Well folks, we’re into triple figures! Yesterday, this blog received 101 views – that’s a lot of people with a lot of time on their hands right there. I welcome you all to today’s entry, reserving a special hello for my friend Laura, who read this entire thing from start to finish yesterday(!). Hats off to you, LD.

 

And of course thank you to the other 100 people that stopped by.

 

I’d like to begin this blog with a minor rant, if I may. Last night, I returned home from the movies too tired to watch something on DVD, so I decided to indulge myself in a very rare spot of television watching. After a brief flicking around the channels, I stumbled upon footage of the ‘V’ Festival – a music festival here in the UK – on channel 4. Can someone please tell me if there is a more risible band than ‘The Feeling’? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Feeling)

 

Everything contemptible and vacuous about modern society is present – the ‘I’m an individual, but I am going to show you this by dressing like everyone else’ skinny jeans, the logo t shirt/scarf/skinny tie/pointy shoes look, the floppy haircut, and perhaps worst, supposed ‘indie’ music which sounds like it’s been lifted off a tape of music specifically designed for games of musical chairs. What a horrible, vomitous, awful group they really are.

 

Rant over.

 

This weekend (and I suppose, to a degree, today’s blog) was all about being comfortable with myself.

 

As is most likely to be the case for a while as I go through this huge period of reconnection, my weekend was pretty clear. Sure, there was the return of the football season, or a trip to the gym; getting a car cleaned, or food shopping, but social-wise, I was pretty much clear. In my past life, this would have filled me with terror, now it is a double edged sword – which, while not perfect, is at least an improvement.

 

I am no good at being by myself. I like alone time, sure, but too much alone time can be a little… lonely.

 

The weekend began with a little more upheaval than I would have liked, however. My brother is 17. And he’s way too much like I was back then. If we subscribe to the Hoffman model that ‘parents, ergo me’, then it is very clear that my brother is my parent’s child. He is disconnected, as I was. He is uncommunicative and emotionally closed, as I was. He acts out, as I did.

 

And worse, he is into drugs. As I was.

 

Anyone with even a hint of my history will probably understand why I am so vehemently anti-drugs – nay, petrified of them. One step further down the left path, and I’d have probably been somewhere buried in the ground rather than writing this blog to you, as I am today.

 

My brother isn’t into the same ones I was – thank fuck – but he is a HUGE smoker. This in itself wouldn’t normally worry me – kids will be kids, and he does it with his friends, etc, etc, etc, but I felt a pit of fear in my stomach when I saw my brother, barely up for an hour, rolling a joint in his car. See, to me, that’s a problem, and it most certainly touched a nerve. I haven’t argued with anyone since I left Florence House, but we certainly did. I’m lucky – he’s a lot bigger than me, and I was half temped to slap the taste out of his mouth and let him know what a fucking idiot he was, but I’d probably have been on the wrong end of a beating for my troubles.

 

It just worries me. I know from bitter experience that there’s no talking to him about this, and no convincing him that I know better, or that it could lead to something that much worse. Truth is, he probably wants to, and will do, much worse, and much more. I can’t work out if I’m being overprotective, over bearing, or suitably worried. I wonder – is my past playing a part, or should someone somewhere be doing something about this? My parents won’t do anything – they’re so worried about his friends being his only social outlet, that they’d rather let him smoke his way through Amsterdam for 5 days (as he did last month) than actually confront, or ask him ‘why’.

 

It is a troubling, troubling situation for sure. And it really worries me.

 

It was an all too rare – and really, rather unwelcome – instance of social interaction on Saturday. The rest was spent by myself. It’s good, it’s bad, I can’t work out which. But in a world where I am a single man who has just begun to work out who this ‘David’ person is, it is imperative work.

 

Sunday morning arrived, and I was truly alone – my brother having jetted off to meet my parents in France. I read the newspapers, went food shopping, watched some football, fell asleep on the couch, and generally had a wonderfully relaxing Sunday. Unfortunately, Chelsea didn’t slip up as I hoped, but you can’t have everything.

 

And that really was it – the weekend, in a nutshell. (cue crappy ‘Austin Powers’ joke about being a nutshell)

 

Sorry, this blog hasn’t been as coherent as I would have liked. I’m exceptionally tired, and my mind is a little distracted today. I’m going to finish off today with a review of ‘The Dark Knight’, perhaps better known as the new ‘Batman’ movie. Last night, in my one social engagement of the week, my friend Ashley came and picked me up, and we finally went to see it. I’ll do my sign off after the review.

 

‘The Dark Knight’

 

In 1951, director Robert Wise, a master of science-fiction and genre horror – though he’s probably best known for being the director of ‘West Side Story’ – unleashed onto the world ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’; on the surface, a story of an alien who visits Earth, telling its inhabitants that they must live in peace, or face destruction.

 

It was one of any number of cold-war era allegories about fear, intolerance, and the unknown. They were themes of their time – themes representative of a society living in fear, living in fear of McCarthyism (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mccarthyism) and living worried that anyone – a neighbour, a friend, or a work colleague, could be a spy for the ‘Red Menace’ that(supposedly) stalked America. These fears were very much evident in ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’, and of other films of the time – ‘Earth vs The Flying Saucers’, ‘The Blob’, and ‘The War Of The Worlds’. ‘Attack Of The 50ft Woman’ could be read as a fear of women’s liberation; ‘Village Of The Damned’ could be seen as a tale of children getting out of control. The list of examples truly is endless.

 

In 2008, the layman on the street will probably tell you that his number one fear is of a world going to hell, and getting there pretty fast. There were 5 trailers for the ‘Batman’ movie. It is no exaggeration to tell you that at least 3 were about a world in trouble, with only one man able to save them.

 

One of the better known ‘Superheroes’, ‘Batman’ is barely a superhero at all – he has no ‘powers’, except a seemingly endless chequebook, and is very much a beatable foe. Beginning life as a 1939 comic book character, ‘Batman’ has been through any number of incarnations – camp TV show character, dark and brooding comic book character, and a series of movies ranging from the dark. (Batman, and Batman Returns) to the ridiculous (the other two)

 

Re-imagined by the brilliant Christopher Nolan, (director of ‘Memento’) and starring Christian Bale (so brilliant in ‘American Psycho’) 2005’s ‘Batman Begins’ took a new stab at tapping into the ever-popular ‘Batman’ world, exploring the origins of the character, and taking on an altogether darker tone.

 

Perhaps most significantly, the cast was populated by actual actors, rather than the usual Hollywood-standard eye candy masquerading as something more. Take away the bat costume and gadgets, and Liam Neeson, Gary Oldman, Morgan Freedman, Michael Caine and others would have been a cast the envy of any Hollywood epic. Only Katie ‘no really, I’m in love with him’ Holmes striking a lone dull note.

 

The film was a rousing success, and a sequel was inevitable.

 

Taking close to a billion dollars worldwide, ‘The Dark Knight’ has taken the success of ‘Batman Begins’, and driven it to another level completely. Though undoubtedly, the box office has been swelled by the unfortunate death of Heath ledger, here playing ‘The Joker’, audiences world-wide have been flocking to a film seemingly so in touch with their own views of a world gone mad, with no-one to save them.

 

And get this – it’s actually a good film. Though a little long, ‘The Dark Knight’ delivers on all its promises, a real Hollywood rarity, and it’s dark tones and sombre taste is never wavered from.

 

Much has been made of Ledger’s performance, and yes, it is good, so good, in fact, that you cannot help but remember Jack Nicholson’s own ‘Joker’ as merely Nicholson in make up, but the standards are impeccably high throughout – Oldman, Freedman, Caine, Bale, and Aaron Eckhart as secondary character District Attorney Harvey Dent, later to become ‘Two Face’ (think Tommy Lee Jones in one of the later, awful ‘Batman’ incarnations) all bringing their ‘A’ game to the screen.

 

‘The Dark Knight’ is a rarely-flawed movie about a rarely-flawed character – a guy just like you and me, albeit with a wallet we all envy. It’s not perfect, but for a superhero movie about a guy who has no superpowers, there won’t be much better, and, in ‘The Joker’, perhaps we have one of screens great modern lunatics. ‘The Dark Knight’ is a movie of its time – desperate, grimy, corrupt, and dank, but it has a ray of hope lying therein.

 

Here’s hoping.

 

And with that, I am drawing today’s entry to a close.

 

Thank you for reading, y’all.

 

Closed Box.

I Am Closed Box, And This Is The Longest Show I Have Ever Watched

Good Morning proud and good people, and welcome to ‘Back, and to The Future’ – the blog that dares suggest that Olympic Fencing should be for real, and the winner should be the last one standing.

 

I’m David, and I’ll be guiding you through this madness as we embark on yet another episode of my daily blog; a journey which takes us through all the thrills and spills of yelling ‘shotgun!’ in the middle of a crowded airport in order to reserve the last place in first class.

 

How are you all today? Feeling better about yourselves? Did you do the exercise? Not sure you had to be naked, Neil, but whatever works for you…

 

A special welcome to all the guests from other blogs reading this today – yesterday, in a fit of desperate (and I mean wondering-if-I-could-eat-my-own-foot levels of desperation) boredom, I had a proper explore of the website this blog is hosted on, WordPress, and read some other people’s work, left some comments, and generally poked around in other people’s business. If you’re reading this as a result of that activity – welcome!

 

I want to talk about this programme:

 

 

Now, I don’t watch TV. I just can’t fucking face the barrage of advertisements; the ‘be like me’ mentality of bullshit the world throws in your face. I don’t want to sound too preachy and like I’m jumping on my soapbox, but it’s this attitude which has fucked the world without as much as buying it dinner.

 

My father insisted I watch this show – a show he liked so much that he bought 6 seasons on DVD to watch them on planes – so I could let him know what I think. In the spirit of our new bonding, I have insisted the show is ‘fascinating’, ‘innovative’ and ‘thoroughly interesting’. The reality is slightly different, however.  

 

Anyway, I’m probably about three quarters of the way through the first season of this show, and I have to ask someone – please, tell me what the fucking fuss is about.

 

Here’s the story as I see it: Federal Agent Jack Bauer has risen to a fairy senior Government position, despite being generally despised by everyone, considered a loose cannon, and basically disobeying every order from every superior he has.

 

I can’t really be bothered to go through the whole process of describing the numerous kidnaps, plots to kill Senators, more kidnaps, and amnesia, but basically, everyone is dodgy, no-one needs sleep, and I am bored stiff.

I feel like the guys from the film ‘Clerks’, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clerks) sitting around, discussing the plot holes, and anti-realworldism (yes, I just invented a phrase) of ‘Star Wars’.

Randall: My friend here is trying to tell me that any independent contractors who were working on the uncompleted death star were innocent victims when they were destroyed by the rebels.

Anyway, it’s a bad show. Not as bad as ‘Lost’, but bad nonetheless.

What are your weekend plans? The football season is finally back, which gives me an excuse to act like a man once a week, and I will be dedicating an extraordinary amount of time to that, as well as a family session of Guitar Hero – seriously, my sister is coming for dinner this evening, and there’s gonna be a ruckus! – possible lunch with my friend Ali, and the inevitable fight to remember the positives of the long process of reconnection, versus the occasional loneliness of  solitude.

This leaves me to wish you all a wonderful weekend ahead, and to Lucy – good luck on your last day. I hope you leave with a smile on your face.

Until either some point this weekend, or Monday

Lots of love,
Closed Box

 

 

Dyslexia For Cure Found

What the deuce? 79 people viewed this blog yesterday! 79!?!?!?! Thank you, whoever you are, if you’re spreading the word.

 

Today’s blog is all about pride – pride in ourselves and our actions. I have heard from a number of people recently – in email, telephone conversations and in person – and there’s a whole lot of beatin’ yourselves up goin’ on, and frankly, it’s pissing me off.

 

Let me assure you of one thing – I don’t have assholes for friends. So, today, at some point, I want you to do something, and if you don’t do it, then… erm… you’re not allowed to read my blog any more. That’s it – I’m cutting you off. And for those people reading this who have no idea who I am or what the hell I’m talking about, you are unwittingly part of a rather sacred and wonderful group of people, and so you can do this too.

 

Do this:

 

1. Make a list of 3 things you have done in the last week that have made you proud of yourself – it can be as big or as insignificant as you like. (eg. Mine are: called my Great Aunt, and made arrangements to take her out, offered advice to a friend in need, and one other thing I’ll talk about in a minute)
2. Find a mirror
3. Stand in front of it
4. Take a good look into your own eyes – don’t look away, or look at what is going on around you
5. Read aloud the things you have listed. Read them as loud as it takes for you to soak them in.
6. Now, look back into your eyes, and tell yourself this: ‘I am a good person’.

 

Don’t procrastinate, don’t sit back and pretend to struggle for things to write – your dark side will love that – just write the fucking things down. If you’ve got more than 3 – wonderful! If you’re anything like me, when you do this, you’ll cry like a little bitch. But crying is good. If you’re a man, you might want to do something like big game hunting, or build a car engine to feel more masculine, but don’t fight back the tears. Tears are all that bad shit coming out of your body – let them fall.

 

And if you do that, and it makes you feel better, feel free to tell me about it. I’d love to hear your experiences.

 

Jesus H. Pyjama Party, I am in a wonderful mood today. How are you all? Have you been watching the Olympics? No, me neither really. All the good sports are still to come. I did try and watch the fencing – but it’s hardly laced with Count of Monte Cristo-esque romance and poise; more Robocop than Romeo and Juliet. Lots of blinking lights and blunted swords. Rubbish.

 

So anyway, yes, my other thing that tells me I am a good person today.

 

Marissa and I met about… oh… two years ago now. Marissa was an American student here, and we immediately fell for each other. We were, I guess, in ‘love’ – which for her meant she loved me, and for me meant utter panic, and the usual pushing someone away (give me space, I’m scared) just to pull them back in again. (tell me I’m loveable)

 

Poor old Marissa. I treated her like absolute dirt. I cheated, lied, deceived and basically reduced her to an emotional wreck, all for my own gratification and for the joy of manipulating someone. I was a complete bastard to her.

 

Of course, while I accept full responsibility for what happened between us, I also recognise that I was in the throws of a number of unconscious patterns, and, as much as I knew what I was doing, I also… didn’t. A prime example would be when she finally returned to America, and things looked as though they were over. I had made it clear that I couldn’t afford the trip to see her (which was a lie)  but, when it emerged that someone she previously had a ‘thing’ with had declared his intentions, I was on the next plane (almost quite literally) laden with gifts to ‘win her back’. Of course, the whole relationship was doomed anyway – with or without my apparent lack of honesty – as Miami to London is quite the commute.

 

Anyway, those were the sorts of lengths I would go to once upon a time. I can but look at the screen and shake my head as I document my actions in those dark days.

 

I hurt Marissa, and hurt her badly. She kept running back to me because of her own patterns of needing to be loved, but it was no excuse for my reprehensible behaviour. And so, dear friends, yesterday, I decided to make amends – though I should stress that this has been on my mind for a while.

 

This is what I sent Marissa yesterday, verbatim:

 

From: David Levy
Sent: Wednesday, August 13, 2008 9:16 AM
To: Marissa
Subject:

 

Hi Marissa

 

How are you doing? It has been some time since we’ve spoken.

 

Whether or not you chose to reply to this is totally up to you. You’re the one piece of unfinished business I have in the life I have now left behind, and I wanted to write what I am about to write because I think its important.

 

As you may or may not remember, recently, I went on a course called The Hoffman Process. I was going because yet another therapist had basically failed to help me, and I was – as you well know by now – a terribly mixed up and troubled person, with some uncontrollable urges which were particularly bad.

 

I just wanted to write to you to apologise to you, really. The course changed my life. I recognised the impulsive consumption of people (especially women) and saw that actually, it was anchored in deep insecurity from my lack of father and unloving mother. Really, Marissa, you put up with a lot of rubbish from me, and it is a great credit to the person you are that you did that.

 

Like I said, Marissa, this email is just to say sorry – sorry for the lies, the deceit and the manipulation. I played with your emotions in ways I am not proud of, and I hope, honestly, sincerely and truthfully, that you are finding great joy and happiness in your life – you absolutely deserve it.

 

I realise that a lot of time has passed, but if there was anything lingering, or any anger you have about what happened that affects you now, or perhaps something you’re just curious about, please do feel free to ask me. I realise we’re probably never going to be friends, but if there’s a way I can help, it really would be my pleasure to do so.

 

All the love in the world to you and your family

 

David

Xx

 

And that, dear readers, was that. I did get a reply, but that one’s just for me. Nonetheless, when all was said and done, I was proud of myself. I was proud that I could stand up to those things I have done, and know that I am at the very least aware of what drives this behaviour – and that is something to take great comfort in.

 

Friends, the world turns, and we are but specks on it. Imagine everyone around you as mere strands of DNA, but instead of the building blocks of life, these strands represent all our shared problems, patterns and desires. Take a look at your own today as you stand in front of the mirror, and remind yourself this: you are a good person.

 

Until tomorrow, this is a proud and good person signing off for the day.

 

Lots of love

Closed Box