Sit Down

Night fell, the blues turned golden, the stars arrived but still the seats remained empty.

They did not know what the other was thinking, but were too afraid to commit to what they thought the other may or may not think.

So no words were exchanged, no debate ensued and no conclusions sort. It would remain the same for years to come and with each passing minute the bitterness grew.

What they each thought of each other was only what they had made up in their own heads and each passing thought paralysed the potential for change.

The Court

You could almost hear the laughter of the kids, the squeaking of trainers, the crash of the backboard or the swoosh of the net.

People had won and lost on that court, people had smiled and cursed and there was a beauty to its abandonment, the emptiness allowed the mind to search for the stories the place had seen and created.

There is something beautiful about a place and how it can inspire thoughts and ignite the imagination.

But more than that when I re-read her words I feel the need to tell them stories. I remember how the imagination was free to roam and connections came easy. I inhaled and looked into the darkness, through the light. She was beautiful and so at ease. I missed her and I missed a little part of me.

Time

It was strange, I must of sat with her talking a million times, feeling at home at ease. But something had changed, I felt a pressure to say something, to inspire, to placate, I dunno but the atmosphere was uneasy.

I tried to be upbeat, to ask questions, to feel engaged with her life, but I didn’t care, the more I listened the more I got frustrated with her words, nothing mattered, nothing made me laugh or smile or think. I just sat there numb.

After… before, every time we met I thought about myself, I questioned if it was me who was being a dick or if she had changed or if she was just old, did I just need a little more patience. But I couldn’t find it, I couldn’t find anything that we linked on. God I sound awful, this is becoming a rant.

She seemed to have lost some of her kindness, a gentleness that makes people so attractive, an inner smile and the ability to laugh at oneself. She had become combative, like a war had risen up against her. We had always teased her, gently though, but she was the one you went to. She was always the one who knew the answers.

I exhaled and thought more, we were just in different worlds now. And every time I described it I felt defensive towards it and aggressive against it. I didn’t like me like that, so I stayed numb.

Maybe it was because she knew he was leaving, maybe she knew she would have to be brave. Maybe she felt guilty that she had made him hold on, I don’t know, but it was not the same, the family had changed.

Watered down

In front of me I have three glasses, one full of beer, the middle one empty and the third full of water.

Let’s take the beer to start with. I like to think of beer as a representation of the essence of the experience. It represents the bodies physiological response to the moment you enjoy and that moment can be anything, sex, laughter, sport, fear, enlightenment. Whatever, whatever moment that makes your body shake, form goose bumps, chicken skin, arousal, sweat. Anything that makes the heart beat faster.

The empty glass, that’s you and for the moment that’s empty.

And the third glass, well that’s water, that’s comfort that’s the easy path those are things that make your life easier, that’s things that help you pass difficult problems. That’s the internet, that’s a hover, those are things that ease the arousal, slow the heart beat.

We pour a little beer in the empty glass, it feels good, if you haven’t had it in a while it’s even better, we pour a little more in, but then we are shaky the body overloads, so we add water, we balance the beer.

But then we start to learn, there are tricks to get more beer with out the fear, there are ways to get more beer inside without the overload, so we fill up we add the water, the clip stick the panic draw, the ai, the insurance, the Burberry wallet. We now have all the ways to cope with more beer, but then we take a sip and we realise we are just drinking water, our beer has been diluted.

Goose bumps come from feeling, whatever thought inspires those bumps has to have an element of jeopardy it has to be beer and the more we learn to use water to fill up on beer the more we forget the taste.

The Boat

Let me be… let me be, let me travel from land to sea, why oh why d’you put me here, this land around is full of fear.

The sea is where free energy flows, the water is, all I know.

Let me float with wind and tide, let me escape these humans who have no eyes,

No eyes to see what’s wrong, no freedom to feel their inner song, to shout out loud, to feel their soul, they just dig and dig inside their hole.

But when they realise they are in too deep, the sides to climb are just too steep.

So please release me from this tree and let me feel the water, surround me.

Something to Say

At first when I saw her she looked fierce, she skilfully navigated her way in and out of the umbrellas with no more or less than a moment for everyone. When we spoke she corrected my Greek with a smile and moved on. But as time passed I noticed a softness behind her steely demeanour and then out of the blue as we passed on the stairs she spoke to me.

‘I saw your van, wooow… It’s amazing’

I blushed a little mind racing to find something interesting to say. ‘Thanks, it’s super simple though…’ thoughts rattled around in my head like a pin ball… was I sure she was talking about my van? Did she see Jan’s van? When? Fuck. ‘I like it, it’s cool, it’s got everything I need, but it’s simple, you know I don’t have a sink or solar… well I have… but…’ What are you saying? Shut up!! I shouted at myself.

‘I am thinking of buying a van’, she rescued me, now I had something to say.

Instant

It’s strange, sometimes you just know, you pick your head up and see it. The picture is clear it says something to you straight away. You look them in the eyes and instantly there is a connexion. But then, all the shit gets muddled, the perception of them, the self perception of you and the ‘what’s the right’ just gets in the way, so you stop. You reach the end of the road and that’s that. The eyes don’t look the same, the feeling in the heart is different and there is just a little sadness in the mind. What might have been, what could have been done differently, it all moves away.

I wish I would really seize the moment, capture it, act on it, stretch out that first flash when you saw the picture, when you felt the bite, like the tickle on your teeth when you bite down on a perfectly ripe nectarine. Or maybe if I did it would be awkward and bitter and the reality would be much worse than the thought in the imagination. Maybe the teeth would just find the stone.

Melissa

Melissa hurried to the back of the shop, picked up a scrap of paper and placed it in the front pocket of her bag. From the safe door she turned the small key with a red tag three times to the right, withdrew the key and placed it in the same pocket of her bag as the scrap of paper. Her nightly lock-up complete, she then walked out from behind the counter and in-between the rows and rows of DVD’s to the light switch. She looked back into the shop her heart rate increasing, she paused with her hand hovering over the switch looking in and out of the maze. Had she forgotten something? Had her colleague definitely left earlier or was he hiding behind one of the sets of shelves? She dismissed the thought, flicked the switches and the room immediately fell into darkness. She opened the door, stepped outside, out from the warm island created by the heating system above the door and into the cold damp air of winter.

She pulled the door shut and out of her bag took a large set of keys flicking through the set to find the one that fitted the lock. Her hands were stiff and her heart was beating quickly, she found the correct key, raised it to the lock and as she did her fingers faltered and the set dropped to the floor. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but there was no-one who cared, so she bent down and picked them up.

Addiction

It’s hard to say, I could stop and some days I decide today I won’t, but then something happens, friends call me up and we’re off again. I tell myself I don’t have anything better to do so I might as well enjoy now, and it takes the edge of things. You know calms the mind, dulls the mind… you don’t have to think so much. And look I once stoped for two days so it’s not like I can’t.

Simple

We arrived late at night, the process was simple, we all knew how to put it together and it was not long until we were out of the sun and the food was on the table.

I looked around at the faces of those that I loved and wondered about what was enough. What was needed or what was wanted. I looked back at my plate the flavour was the same, the same as always, but the smiles were there too, same as always.