Been walking around with my eyes closed. Keeping away from your windows. Fearful eviction horizons. But you took my life in your hands.

I haven't given up on her.

In fact, I think I'm falling in love with her.

She believes in herself. She say it's because she believes in me. Whilst I'm not quite sure what she means, it's unbelievably touching.

"Oh, I just can't go through it again", she said. Nobody asked you to, darlin'. "I just can't pretend that I care". Well, whoever thought that you did?.

When I'm going through 'bad patches' in my life, I turn to one of things I can control; food.
Either restricting my food intake, or not eating at all gives me a sense of 'control' that nobody else can take away from me.
It's quite pathetic really. Not to mention stupid. But sometimes it's a necessary part of being me.

Show me some mercy. Show that you care. Show you got something to spare.

The courts are a scary place.
Once inside, a security guard motions for me to remove everything metallic and to empty my pockets into what looks like an ice-cream tub that's to the side of the scanner machine. Once through the other side, I took my mobile phone, about £2 in change, my keys and belt back and proceeded over to the list of hearings for the morning.
Up on the second floor; the open plan hallway stretched out with the 'not private at all' booths dotted along each side. The middle section housing chairs that remind me of a Doctors Surgery waiting area. Lo and behold, whilst sitting there reviewing my case with the money grabbing bastard of a solicitor, there were buzzers interrupting our flow of conversation. These buzzers indicating one of the twelve to fifteen rooms that each housed a Judge ruling over the various cases of the morning, was now vacant and ready for the next (victim) case. After a short while, I changed my mind about the similarities between a Doctor's Surgery and decided on a Cattle Market instead. Much more fitting.

My hearing was bought by the Lettings Agency that I'm trying to sue. Even though they had been well informed of my case against them; numerous opportunities to file a defence, make an out of court settlement offer, or even to just acknowledge the damn case, for reasons known only to themselves, they decided to bury their heads in the sand and to quietly ignore it, presumably hoping I was yanking their chain. Consequently, I pushed ahead, despite their silence, gained a court date for a hearing and because they didn't do bugger all the case was heard by a Judge in their absence and ruled in my favour.
Great! I had won the case!

Several days later, the money grabbing bastard of a solicitor informed me the the Lettings Agency had suddenly made themselves known and applied to the courts to have the ruling over-turned so they could defend their case.
They were past the deadline to apply for this by two clear days. We knew that; my solicitor and I. They must have known that. We are presuming they received the letter from the Courts informing them of the ruling, and perhaps panicked?! Trying their luck with an application to the Courts after the deadline date.

I was shitting myself, but felt fairly confident, even though the money grabbing bastard of a solicitor advised me that Judges can quite often be seen to be more, let's say lenient with small businesses. And not only that, but Judges can also be a little more forgiving when it comes to dealing with people who don't have legal representation and decide to represent themselves.

So, we get buzzed in; me, the money grabbing bastard of a solicitor and the owner (representing herself) of the Lettings agency, a small business.

It must have been my lucky day, because not five minutes into it the owner of the Lettings Agency apologized to me profusely for all my inconvenience, the extra debt I'd got into because I had been paying the mortgage myself each time the tenants didn't pay any rent, the stress it must have caused me, the distress and the horrible state the house was left in under their care. She promptly whipped out her cheque book and wrote me out a cheque for double the amount I was suing for and pleaded forgiveness from me. It was only when I glanced to my left and saw the money grabbing bastard of a solicitor ripping the Judge's blouse off, pushing her back into the leather bound chair and parting her legs in preparation of a 'right good seeing to down there' that I realized I day-dreaming.


After waiting in the Cattle Markets seating areas for over an hour, the ruling took less than ten minutes. Within the first five (after rustling through the documents in front of her and asking both parties a handful of questions), the Judge stated that the cut off date had quite clearly been missed by the Lettings Agency. Not only that, but they had provided absolutely no defence to my claim and when asked quite simple questions they either had no answer or "I'm not sure" as a comeback.
The final five minutes was choc full of legal jargon, the majority of which I didn't understand. What I could comprehend was the the Judge, in her infinite wisdom decided that even though the deadline had quite clearly passed, and the lettings agency had quite clearly not taken the claim seriously (lack of defence and no legal advice taken), the previous ruling in my favour was to be over-turned and the Lettings Agency have now been given three weeks to file a proper defence to the claim.

So, a major setback for me. And most likely now means this case will continue for at least another six to eight months before it's resolved.

Life is a funny fucker sometimes, huh?

L.i.f.e. g.o.e.s. o.n. You've got more than money and sense, my friend. You've got heart, and you're going your own way.

Off to the court hearing tomorrow morning.

Nervous?

Understatement!

What if I was wrong and you had never questioned it? What if it was true, that all we thought was right, was wrong? Simple math, the truth cannot be fractioned. I imply I've got to get it back then.

Trying to put my house back together is proving a very tiring and draining task; both mentally and financially.
Each time I begin sorting something out or fixing something up, another problem unfolds and gets added to the impossibly lengthy list.
I have to admit though, it's becoming more and more disheartening living here with absolutely minimal furniture, no carpets, no wallpaper, just one set of curtains, no lampshades, walls that are in need of re-plastering, a garden that's been completely wrecked, two completely empty bedrooms and one containing boxes of my things with nowhere to put them, a bathroom that's completely unusable, restricted access to the garage due to a broken door, a damaged front door, a broken conservatory door and this and that and more of the other. Not to mention I spend most nights wearing two or three tops because I can't afford to heat the place properly. And let's not forget the broken fridge that's mostly empty because I can only afford bare essentials.
But, I grin and bear it.
I grit my teeth and soldier on.

What's killing me is solicitor and court costs.

I have a date for a court hearing set for July 12th, when I will find out if the laws of this Country think I have a case against the Lettings Agency.

And you bring me to my knees, again. All this time, that I could beg you please, in vain. All the times that I felt insecure, for you. And I leave burdens at the door.

So....living on your own is tough.
For those that wish for it.... For those that strive for it....For those that dream of it.....
It's fucking hard.

Put aside the monetary implications.

I have two cats and a plant to talk to.

I've always said, "Alone, but not lonely". And I've always believed it.
There's a huge difference.
Most people can't see it.
I can see it. I am living it.

I got exactly what I asked for. Wanted it so badly. Running, rushing back for more. I suffered fools so gladly.

Sometimes....I feel like I'm living in a world that nobody else will understand.
And it's not because I don't try to help people understand.
I try, and try, and try.
Am I really so different.
Am I really so impossible to fathom out.

I'm not unhappy in my life. I constantly remind myself how lucky I am, strive to see the best in other people and move forward each day knowing that I am the person who makes the most significant difference in my life. So I life my life the way I want to, and if other people flutter in and out with a certain amount of connection, touching me in some way then all the better.
But why are people so fucking judgemental. And ultimately such a disappointment.

I don't care if you are straight, gay or bi. I don't care if you are religious, politically driven or a dope smoking hippy. I don't care what colour skin you have, what turns you on or how many people you have slept with. I don't care if you're a vegetarian, eat with your mouth open or secretly stash chocolate under your mattress. I don't care what your musical preferences are, what you look like when you dance or if you are tone deaf. I don't care if you're financially stable, in serious debt or have trouble holding down a job. I don't care if you stare through people's windows, imagine people naked or flirt unconsciously.

People are beautiful.
I just wish you truly understood that.

Tell me, what did you expect? Have you got no self respect? Reputation to protect? Soon, you'll be a nervous wreck.

A few days ago, my parents told me about their shock and devastation when they found out that my brother and his wife are alcoholics.
The signs have always been there and I always thought my folks were more switched on than they obviously are. My dad seems to be taking it the hardest. Hmmmm, hardest may be the wrong choice of word, but his words of disappointment hammered that one home. His brow was down, his lips turned and his voice kept breaking as he sat there, looked me in the eyes and told me that he'd always seen me as the son with issues and problems. But now....now, despite the fact that my brother and his wife have been 'happily' married for ages, have a lovely house that's almost paid for, have secure, decent paid jobs, live very comfortably, have two or three holidays away every year, have a lovely daughter, drive nice cars, buy the things they want....Despite all those things, that made me out to the black sheep of the family, because I have nothing close to those things, this 'revelation' that they are a pair of alcoholics seems to have really knocked the wind out of him.

My parents have had to put up with a lot of shit over the years. Mostly from me. I've always felt bad about that. I think the fact that my brother's life always shone head and shoulders above mine, might have helped give my folks some additional strength when they needed it. Things were shit, but it's not so bad because at least my brother's life had turned out great. He's the reliable, sensible, grounded, formulaic, dependable and 'normal' one.

Things have changed.

So, I don't look back. Still, I'm dying with every step I take. But I don't look back. Just a little , little bit better. Good enough to waste some time.

I bought some net curtains for one of the windows today.
I think you would be proud.

Am I more than you bargained for yet? I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear, because that's just who I am this week.

It's strange, almost unsettling when you look back.
When I read back through things that spilt out of this head, through these fingertips.
Same person, just completely different.

One of the reasons I'm finding it so hard to let go of this blog.

I trust you. If it's already been done, undo it. It takes two. It's up to me and you, to prove it.

My solicitor....actually, he's not my solicitor, he's just a solicitor that I'm paying fucking stupid money to take the Lettings Agency to court....is taking the piss with me. I get the feeling that he's purposely delaying things, or double/triple/quadruple checking things with me, in order to slow the whole process down. After all, I'm paying him stupid amounts of money per hour, plus VAT to help me with my case. Why on earth would he be in any kind of rush.
After our initial discussion back in December, and his subsequent taking on of my case, I now find myself at the point where we can actually take the Lettings Agency to court over breach of contract on many , many levels.
It's been a long, long road so far. And a very expensive one.
I may not win the case.
Or I may win the case, but not actually get any money from the Lettings Agency. All they have to do is plead poverty or bankruptcy. Then, they can set themselves up as a new Business under a different name and carry on trading as normal. As if nothing ever happened. It doesn't seem right to me. Bu then, I am but a tiny, insignificant person when it comes to the world of Business and Money and Power.

You say; "I love you,. boy". I know you lie. I trust you all the same. I don't know why.

If you don't like the taste, then you should have never swallowed.
If you flinch at his arm around your shoulder, then you should have never said yes.
If you long for time on your own, then you made the biggest mistake.
If you curse the day, then you have nobody else to blame....but yourself.

I know you're not stupid.
I know you can't just erase.
I know you feel awful.
I forgive you.

Because I know that you can't be alone.

We can play it safe, or play it cool. Follow the leader, or make up all the rules. Whatever you want, the choice is yours. So choose.

Sometimes it takes a while to realize that you're actually in a good place.

I am in a good place.

She says; "The only thing I've ever found, that's greater than it always sounds..... Is love"

Sometimes love gets in the way of making the right decisions.
Or perhaps my judgement is clouded and I'm not seeing the bigger picture.

I can do it like a brother, do it like a dude. Grab my crotch, wear my hat low like you.

How time has flown. Dexter is almost six months and growing into a strapping young lad, although I took him to the vets the other day to have his dangly bits 'doctored'. Poor little guy!
He's now stopped his previous routine to wake me up; crawling under the bed covers to nibble at my toes and ankles. Nowadays, he just climbs on top of me and paddles away until he feels me stirring. Lovely and cute as hell, but not so at stupid o'clock!
Since I've been in this house for a good few weeks now, and he's been....*ahem*....doctored, it's time I thought about letting him out. He obviously wants to explore outside and spends a lot of time on the window sills, staring outside at what could be. I can only hope he comes back and doesn't do what my previous cat, Jewel did and just never come back.
A while ago, I promised my niece that I would take care of her cat when I got back into my own place. She moved away from her parents and found herself with two problems that prevented her from taking her cat with her; finding a rented property with a landlord that was ok with pets, and a boyfriend that came out in a horrible rash due to allergies he never knew he had. I'm still working out the logistics and timing of bringing her cat over, but it feels like sometime soon would be a good idea. I might have to think about giving her a more appropriate name though. I hope she wont mind.

You got wires, going in. You got wires, coming out of your skin. You got tears, making tracks. I got tears, that are scared of the facts.

My Uncle died last week.
I can't say we were close at all, but the effect on my family, especially my mum; who's brother he was, has darkened my insides and left me with a twisted, knotty feeling.
He's in a much better place now, wherever that may be.

A few weeks ago, I moved out of my parents house. Dexter, Marley and I are trying to pretend that everything's alright here. It quite obviously isn't. We're all doing okies though, despite everything that's happened and is currently happening.

Forget me not, I ask of you. Wherever your life takes you to.

Around 10am today, my dad wandered into where I work and told me my Uncle was dead. Apparently so ill and beyond any kind of recovery, a decision was made to switch off his life support machine.
When I went round to see my folks after work, the first words out of my mum's mouth was that he wasn't dead at all.
He's still on life support.
Stupid fucking American laws, rules and regulations.

Hopefully soon, he will be at peace.

You find some best friends. We'll hold each other and I'll turn the bells.

Just a few things to say tonight....

•  The new guy at work has really bad B.O. He may not be aware of it, or it may be a medical condition, but it's unpleasant and people are starting to talk.
•  Since he started, and I'm not pointing the finger here, but it's a bloody big coincidence, someone is leaving an awful mess in the guy's toilets lately. Specifically, the toilet pan. Sometimes it looks like someone's been trying to flush away a poop from an elephant....without success!
• I feel a lot better after ranting last night.

They're the ones who'll hate you, when you think you've got the world all sussed out. They're the ones who'll spit at you. You will be the one screaming out.

Feeling pretty numb, the consequence of our conversation last night.

After dropping it on me at the very last minute, last Sunday night; "I'm going away for a few days. Actually, until Friday evening. I'm going somewhere to sort my head out. I just need some time, some space, some peace to get some kind of order going in my head. I have so many things going on in my life. I need this. And I hope you can give me this time. You wont be able to reach my phone; no calls, no text messages. But I promise you, it's all going to get sorted out and will be for the best. You have to trust me."
I know you have a lot going on. I know you have things you need to get your head around. I want to help you to help yourself, so yes, even though you give me just a few hours notice....I respect your wishes and take what you've just told me as the truth. I trusted you on your words. And I gave you that space, that silence, that peace.

You could never have kept this hidden from me. That was just a ridiculous thought.

When you actually opened up a little last night, after some persuasive and persistent conversation from me....When you dropped the bomb, when you talked about yourself and your addiction, and delivered an almighty kick in my face with your words....I felt numb. I felt detached from myself. I felt pathetic and stupid. I felt scared and angry. I felt cheated and hurt. I felt sick to the stomach. I felt completely worthless and selfish. I felt a thunderous mix of emotions, the likes I've never felt before. But above all else....I felt completely numb.

You lied to me on Sunday night. And I discovered that you'd lied to me before, many, many times. I told you last night that I could understand why, but tonight, the more time I've had to think about it....The more time I've had to think back over the last few weeks and months, the pieces have been slotting into place and I'm left feeling really stupid for not realising it before. But then....I've always trusted you on your words. Last night, you took all that trust, scrunched it up in a ball, fuelled it with deceit and words that meant nothing, and set fire to it until there was nothing left but cinders and ash.

I simply don't understand what it's like to be addicted to heroin. I don't know enough about that drug to understand what drives the addiction, how it makes you feel, why you would risk so much to feed your habit, not to mention how somebody like you could be smoking that shit!? I've been reading up on it tonight....what the effects are, what it does to your body and brain, how addictive it can be, how difficult it is to come off, how it takes over and destroys lives, how easy it is to relapse - no matter how much one wants to come off it, and it's been scaring the shit out of me.
I'm not a prude. I'm no saint. You know that I've dabbled with various drugs in my past, but I've never touched anything like that. In fact, I've always been damning of those types of drugs, speaking of how I've lost friendships to shit like coke, heroin, ketamine and the likes. And while we sat there talking about how I thought people who got hooked on those sorts of drugs had basically written off their lives, and potentially their relationships with friends and loved one's, you sat there and agreed with every fucking word I said. In fact, you made a point of telling me how harmful smoking weed was, knowing that I still used to do it myself on rare occasions. You fucking hypocrite!

I think you're unbelievably brave for opening up and admitting it to me last night. Of that, there's no question or doubt in my mind. And the fact that for that week away, you had checked into a detox clinic and had an implant inserted under your skin to rid you of this horrible thing is not only completely admirable and a step in the right direction, but also shows that you are serious about kicking this. Is that enough though?! And once again, this is where I feel totally selfish, but I can't help feeling that because you have destroyed all the trust we'd built up, can I really trust you and believe in you?! I want to. I truly do. I don't want to turn my back on you, I really don't. But, I can't begin to trust you again unless you are totally and utterly open and honest with me. And that's in your hands.

You wanted a few days of space, peace and silence. I gave you that. I am asking for the same.
What I've written here is my way of venting my thoughts, my frustrations and wringing out the emotional baggage that's all but drowning me. But I've hidden none of it from you. Everything here, and more, is what we've just spoken about on the phone. I needed you to listen, painful as it may have been for you to hear it. I can easily come back and edit or simply delete this post, particularly if I come back and realize it was all written with frustration, angst or as an immediate reaction. But I wanted you to hear how I feel about it, right now.


I'm sorry.

Strength and courage overrides the privileged and weary eyes of river poet search naivete. Pick up here and chase the ride.The river empties to the tide. All of this is coming your way .

It's difficult to look forward with positivity, the ominous news of my Uncle's terminal condition is casting dark cloud over all of the family here.
Trying, trying, trying not to allow it hang over me too much, but my parents gloominess is difficult, bleak and affecting. Naturally.

Attempting to push all my senses and focus on restoring the house into some sort of habitable state.

No more mention of the doom, the gloom and the inevitable.
Pushing forward with the new, the fresh and the opportunities.