A Wonderful, Visual, Poetic Journey. And Other Shit.

September 15, 2008

Though this entry is posted today, (Monday morning) I have a small confession to make – it is currently 7.30pm on Sunday, and I writing this with a large breakfast tea and lemon and orange muffin by my side in a (relatively) close by Starbucks.


Those of you who have been paying attention will remember my Friday entry – for what it was – where I described the coming weekend as one spent alone, getting used to the idea of just being me; recognising all the old crappy patterns if and when they come up, and generally practising some good old fashioned self love. (Meant non-pornographically)


I wish to report some resounding success. This weekend has passed without incident (read: pattern) and I have allowed this state of relaxation and ‘me’ time to open my mind, and I have made a number of decisions, and come to some really rather stark realisations.


Those of you with an even better memory may remember an entry from some time ago, where I described a huge desire to go out to the nearest Starbucks, and sit pretty much where I am now, blogging away in a desperate attempt to look poetic, and to be noticed. I’d just like to make clear that this trip here this evening has nothing to do with any feelings like that; rather, I have spent an entire weekend stuck within the confines of my house, and was going a little stir crazy. Add to that a severe lack of food in my house – unless you consider what my parents eat ‘food’. I’ll blog about my completely mental parents’ obsession with calories and fat and other nonsense one day. Someone ate half a Jaffa Cake the other day. HALF! – and a trip to Starbucks for a muffin was born.


I am a big fan of internal resolution, and I’m pretty good at it, too. It was that same resolution which, some years ago, allowed me to look yet another line of coke in the face, and go ‘not this time’, and that same resolution that allowed me to quit the many many many many many other vices I have lived to enjoy, but ultimately know to be no good for me – smoking, I miss you!


So this weekend, I have had another one of my famous moments of internal resolution. And it’s about women and sex, a favoured subject of this occasionally amusing, and often baffling blog.


In one of my many moments of thought this weekend, I began to think about the sort of relationship I have with the fairer sex, and the sort of women I seem to attract. The women I see generally fall into one of two categories:


  1. The needy: I engulf them in passion and fill that hole in their lives before sleeping with them and pissing off, or some variation on ‘the dynamite effect’, a process of anticipation/KABOOM!/damage, or…
  2. Madonna/Whore: These are generally longer-term projects, or, as they are more popularly known, girlfriends. Madonna/Whore is, I stress, not my saying, but rather it refers to the sort of woman who you can happily take on a family outing for finger sandwiches, but would also like a finger sandwich of a different sort on the car ride home. Oh, they’re the best. Sigh.


I think, historically, it would be fair to say that I have always gone for the wrong sort of woman. Sometimes, the attraction and subsequent failure has been either my fault; by means of deliberate espionage or general post-coitus disinterest, and sometimes, it’s been them – either I’ve been too mental, or not mental enough in the long term. And sex. Basically, all my relationships, whether they’ve been for 5 minutes or 5 months, have all been about sex. If you want a long term relationship with me, the absolute best thing to do is to not sleep with me. And I mean EVER. Sad, but very true.


So this weekend, I made a decision. And I feel as though this one is real – it has that same air of finality that I felt when I made the decisions I mentioned above. And that is to start looking for a different sort of person; and I don’t mean look in an Indiana Jones, whips-and-gold-mines sort of quest – perhaps a better way to describe it would be to ‘become aware of’ or even ‘limit myself to’ a nicer sort of girl. For all the fuck ups, sexual freaks and desperately needy women in the world, there are an equal number of genuine and pleasant women out there – I’m convinced of it. And I think that is what I need. I just feel as though… Oh I don’t know… I am kind of ‘done’ with the world I once inhabited. Those regular readers will know my dismay at occasionally finding myself inhabiting an impulsive world I am not entirely comfortable with, and I just feel as though I have grown a little past that. I am not stupid enough to think this won’t mean I get ‘the horn’ from time to time, or I will suddenly will see someone and not think ‘I wonder if the curtains match the drapes’, but I have come to realise recently that having those feelings and urges unfulfilled from time to time is not the end of the world. In fact, it could be the making of it – my world, at least.


It has taken a long time for me to this point, and to make this choice – I have had to ask at what point do you stop trying to conquer the mountain of women there are in the world, and realise just why you’re doing it? I’m fairly certain that eventually, it stops being funny, and actually gets very self destructive and a bit silly, and worse, a bit sad.


The new question to myself is: what am I trying to prove? The new answer is: that you’re not THAT guy.


The really sad part of this all is that, ultimately, I’m a pretty nice guy, and I have a lot to offer; it was the patterns and the ways I acted which stopped me from living it. So no more of that, thank you. It’s time to set myself the challenge of not getting in your knickers…


It has taken time, and time is key to making any fundamental decision.


My friend Dom called me last week, and it was actually he which set many of these thoughts into motion. Dom is, like many I suspect, waking up in a post-process world where he has come to realise his pre-process life was a construct of a false him – and he doesn’t want it anymore.


I don’t want to get into this too much, mostly because now I’m sitting in my bedroom, and not in a Starbucks, I have lost my mojo a bit, but also you can overcomplicate it quite easily…


The point is, and what I have learnt – and I am also conscious this blog entry is quite long, and I’ve not even started working off my notes yet – is that decisions with any sort of weight are generally the considered ones. Ok, that’ll do on that. It’s now 9:26pm, and I am tiring of the sound of my own voice, so you lot must be close to topping yourselves…


David’s Very Quick Review of the Weekend Which Was Originally Going to Be Much Longer



(a)    Had coffee with my friend Shira – tea for me.

(b)   Managed to get parking ticket, despite all the parking meters – I tried 4 – being out of order. Sending letter of appeal today. (Monday)

(c)    On way home, got rear-ended by some dipshit, who then proceeded to drive away at high speed. No real damage, but according to insurance people, I have to inform police. Luckily, I’m eagle eyed, and got the registration plate.

(d)   Discovered Republican candidate for Vice President Sarah Palin’s son in called Truck? TRUCK?!?!?!? That country is utterly utterly fucked.



(a)    Went to gym. Make heap big sweat. Me man.


(b)   Watched a film called ‘The Fall’, (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460791/) which was one of the most visually stunning experiences of my film-watching life. Quick story overview: Hospitalised man tells a story to a young girl in a 1920’s Los Angeles hospital – film shows the story through the imagination of the child. It’s directed by an Indian guy called Tarsem, who previously directed a bunch of adverts, music videos, and ‘The Cell’. Anyway, it was incredible. Here’s some images:


(c)    Watched a film called ‘Baby Mama’. (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0871426/) Apparently, this is a ‘comedy’, written by the very funny Tina Fey, who wrote ‘Mean Girls’ previously. Anyway, it wasn’t any good, or funny.



(a)    Woke up late


(b)   Watched a film called ‘The Promotion’ (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0803057/) which was one of those drama/comedies, but wasn’t particularly either of those.


(c)    Watched ‘Pretty in Pink’ (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091790/) for the first time ever. I want to be a 16 year old in the 80s. Seriously.


And that was it until you joined me in Starbucks…


Now, it is Monday morning, and, as ever, I am sat at my desk, pretending to work when I’ve actually been editing this entry from last night. Strangely, that feeling of loneliness I was so happy about ‘overcoming’ hit me pretty hard last night when I got back from Starbucks. But, when a blog entry is this long, that’s certainly a story for another day…


Until next time, lots of love as always,

Closed Box



3 Responses to “A Wonderful, Visual, Poetic Journey. And Other Shit.”

  1. posteret Says:

    Sounds like you had a productive weekend. I spent the weekend in a bit of self-reflection too but with the help of some old friends thrown in as well.
    I find it fascinating the way you talk about patterns that we repeat. I know I have a few that I should try to break out of, talking them through with friends really helped me to see the patterns more clearly. I am, like we all should be, a work in progress.

  2. Neil Manchester Says:

    Best ever blog and brightened up a really crappy day.

  3. Mike Says:

    Interesting post again. We spoke about the sex thang previously and I think I said that my thoughts about it have changed considerably after the course.

    To turn one of your own suggestions back against you, don’t be too negative about it. Past relationships – however unsavoury – are all steps towards the current you.

    We blokes are (some more than others) animals and sex is a big drive. We’ve all had relationships that are basically all about rutting, but that’s not necessarily anything to get hung up about.

    Review. Ponder. Move on. Enjoy doing it better next time.

    Good luck!

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