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.

Pick up my guitar and play. Just like yesterday. Then I'll get on my knees and pray. We don't get fooled again.

Christmas day I find out....
My niece was proposed to.
My Uncle in America is told his cancer has spread and is now terminal.

Pfffft.

Be my friend. Hold me. Wrap me up. Unfold me. I am small. And needy. Warm me up. And breathe me.

I can't seem to keep up with blogs anymore. Not meaning that the blogs that I like to dip into every now and then post so much stuff that I fall behind or get lost. I mean, very often lately when I follow a link from this blog, the writer has either stopped posting, or the blog had been deleted. Even the ones I don't link from here, but keep in my bookmarks have been disappearing slowly.
And once, when I would click away at links from other people's blogs, or just surf around, I would often stumble upon other people's little spaces that would catch my attention. I'd bookmark it, sometimes link it, sometimes comment.... But now....Now there just seems to be a huge reduction.
Of course FaceFuck and Twatter have done a great job shovelling the earth on top of the blogger's coffin. But I find it such a shame, because even though I do FaceFuck, it's just not the same. On there, I have to be so much more like me. And I much prefer being the anonymous me.

Blogging....It's dying.

I'm in the darkest place, I think I've ever been. You can see from the scars on my face, I'm not where I'm supposed to be.

Wow!
Loads has been happening, it's hard to know where to begin.

I guess the most important thing is that after the New Year, I will have my own space back. It's taken a very long time, it's cost me a lot of money and it's been gruelling and stressful, but finally those wankers who were digging their heels in whilst living rent free in my house have finally been turfed out.
I wouldn't wish anybody else to have to go through what I've just been through, but still, that part of it is over now. Now begins a lengthy and once again very costly exercise to attempt to recover some of my outstanding money; from rent arrears, damage to the house, stolen furniture, legal costs, court costs etc etc etc. Sheesh! But at least I can now concentrate on sorting my shit out, in order to get back into my own space, whether it's that house or somewhere else.

For the past few years, some of my Bloggy friends have enjoyed compiling, discussing, comparing and swapping lists of top ten albums of the year gone by. This year is no different.
So head over to The Auditorium to see what our top ten albums of 2010 have been, in a countdown stylee.

I never was a sinner or a saint. We fight between the colours, now checkmate. We all have two decisions, mark the date. And you must make your choice before it's too late.

I appear to have adopted a kitten. He's now eleven weeks old and totally adorable, even though he has some strange habits, including an odd fascination with my toes and a tendency to like to sleep under the bed covers with just his head poking out.
I named him Dexter.

Over the last few months; I've been organising gigs, co-producing and mixing tracks in a recording studio and found myself managing an up and coming band.
Who would have thought!?

Things have changed. Things have moved forward. Things are very different.
And it's just the tip of the iceberg.

You said something, you said something stupid like; love steals us from loneliness.

I'm considering adopting a kitten.

I know what I like and I like what I know. Getting better in your wardrbobe, stepping one beyond your show.

I'm all about left, all about four and all about green.
I'm all about Free Trade, all about tattoos and all about Marlboro Lights.
I'm all about boxers, all about Damien Rice and all about red wine.
I'm all about coffee, all about scented candles and all about brunettes.
I'm all about scars, all about cats and all about Johnny Depp.
I'm all about recycling, all about weed and all about independence.
I'm all about strings, all about curing cancer and all about Weetabix.
I'm all about lyrics, all about cheese-on-toast and all about watching movies where they belong; at the cinema.
I'm all about washing your hands, all about skirts and all about live concerts.
I'm all about glasses, all about freedom of speech and all about tulips.
I'm all about jeans, all about artistic talent and all about the Hammond Organ.
I'm all about horror movies, all about black & white pictures and all about long hair.

I'm all about music, all about music and all about music.

God bless us, everyone. We're a broken people living under loaded gun. And it can't be out-fought. It can't be out-done. It can't be out-matched,. It can't be out-run.

People I'd like to share a spliff with:

In no particular order....

Stan Laurel.
I'd like to tell him how much I love Laurel & Hardy movies. And how they helped me through a tough childhood.

Quentin Tarantino.
I'd like to ask him for a cameo in his next movie.

Damien Rice.
I'd like to ask him who she is.

Drew Barrymore.
I'd like to ask if I could do the music supervision on her next project.

Johnny Depp.
'Cos he's cool as fuck.

Howard Marks.
To listen to more of his fabulous stories.

Danny MacNamara.
I'd like to convince him to get the band back together.

Bruce Forsyth.
To see if he was still funny.

Zach Braff.
To just talk somethin' and nothin'.

The guy who created Chocolate Hobnobs.
And I'd shake that man's hand.

Angelina Jolie.
If I'm honest, to hopefully get into her knickers.

Robert Plant.
To thank him, for everything he's done and is still doing.

Robbie Williams, Kate Winslett, Dr Dre, Russell Brand, Lee Evans, John Cusack, Britney Spears, Foghorn Leghorn, McLovin, the Chief Of Police, Elbow, Al Pacino....Thom Yorke........my high school art teacher............Ziggy Stardust............Tom Baker....

Help, I have done it again. I have been here many times before. Hurt myself again, today. And the worst part is, there's no-one else to blame.

Sat in my room now, reflecting on the day.
Spent the best part of six hours drinking coffee and talking about my previous failed relationships.
I concluded that I'm obviously a difficult person to 'be with'.
She concluded that my experiences have made me the person I am today; over protective, guarded and difficult.

And then she told me to never give up.

The guy I like is married, He showed me the ring on his Thursday finger.

The girl who works in accounts doesn't seem to have any idea that the guy who works in the fleet department sleeps around on his wife. I think I heard him talking about tenth wedding anniversary plans. She seems to have no idea about him. Or maybe she chooses to ignore it. Either way, it makes me feel really sad to see it so close up.

On the second week I was there, I had the girl who works on reception wrapping her arms around me and sobbing her little heart out. A friend of hers was on a life support machine and that was the day they were turning it off.

Last week, the girl who works on the other reception desk was telling me about how she ended up throwing her husband of 25 years out. A guy came into work one day, sat down in front of her and proceeded to inform her that her husband was having an affair. Not with this guy's partner, but with the wife of a guy who works for him. And apparently, this guy said he told her not because of the moral reason, but because it was now affecting his work. And he held a very important role which simply couldn't be allowed to slip. So she confronted her husband, he admitted it, she kicked him out, he went to stay with his parents, then got a rented flat with this other girl he was having the affair with (who presumably got treated the same by her partner), split up with her after less than a month together, then she took him back in. Crazy.

They play stupid pranks at work. The latest I heard about today, was another department Manager complaining about having a horrible smell in his office for hours, and tracing it to an opened can of sardines in the depths of his drawer.

All the guys at work fancy the receptionist and the girl in accounts, except obviously her husband; the guy who works in fleet.

We can, and do, play any music we want in the showroom. The music all comes from a laptop in the office. I checked the folder the other day; it was reading over 60 Gig. Now that's a lot of music. It can be as random as hearing Frank Sinatra, followed by The Pussycat Dolls, followed by INXS, followed by Led Zeppelin, followed by Barbra Streisand, then killed off by those cheeky little monkeys from Glee. Which is a fabulous show!

I take my own Decaf coffee in, which I keep in my drawer. My desk is anally tidy. I have a small plant on my desk, which the others find amusing. The others are pretty shit. Well, ok, maybe that's a little harsh, but they seriously don't know how to earn themselves more money by putting in just a tiny bit more effort.

Lot's of quirky characters.
Kinda like it here.

Just close your eyes, and count to five. Let's craft the only thing we've known, into surprise.

Not very exciting at work today, but I left a couple of hours early and managed to do something I've been planning to for ages. I've had to be thorough, strategic and well planned.
Feeling bloody good tonight.

Also feels quite creepy being alone in the house tonight.

Chasing the dream, no I never pick up the pen. Always a show, but I like it when we pretend.

It feels weird thinking that this place is coming to an end, but it feels kind of natural.
Since I started blogging here, back in 2005, my journey has crossed paths with many, many wonderful fellow bloggers. Some still blog, although not as regularly as they once did. Many said their goodbyes in delightful ways, moving on with their lives. Some just....disappeared, without so much as a kiss my arse. And of course, some moved with the times and migrated to Facebook and/or Twitter.

I've crossed paths with some amazing people along the way. And whilst being adamant that I wanted to keep myself anonymous, politely refusing blog-meets and the like, I've met a handful of bloggers in 'real life'. Tonight feels like an appropriate time to reflect, and to cast out a shower of sincere "thank yous" to everybody who has touched my life in some way via someguyonajourney, even though sadly it will go unnoticed and unread by some simply wonderful people. So I shall just sit here pretending that somehow....they will know.

Buried beneath the ramblings, the rants, the raw and the ever present cryptic writing, lies a guy who just wanted to use this place to try to understand a little bit more about himself.

Clearly I remember, from the windows they were watching, while we froze down below.

Big Brother has come to an end.
After ten years of dedicated viewing, for me, summertime will never be the same again.

Over the years, I've felt a huge variety of emotions. I've chuckled, I've laughed, I've cried and cringed. I've been shocked, been flabbergasted, been frustrated and been angry. I've felt pleased, felt all warm and cuddly, felt grossed out and felt humble. All the emotional bases have been covered many, many times.
The hundreds of Housemates have provided hour upon hour of entertainment. They've been outrageous, rude, crude, angry, disgusting, vile, comical, funny, boring, camp, ridiculous, smarmy, creepy, bitchy, loving, stupid, silly, smart, clever, game-playing and so, so much more.

No other TV show has given me the chance to watch people do such a vast array of weird and wonderful, crazy and fucked-up, even boring and monotonous things. There's been kissing, fighting, punching, kicking, smooching, vomiting, dancing, fucking, discriminating, masturbating, shouting, screaming, spitting, threatening, bullying, flirting, flashing, tears, tantrums and an abundance of nakedness and nudity. It's been ten years of cocks, lady-gardens, tits and arse!

I've loved, loved, loved it.
I've learnt so much about people, about life, about living, about soooo many things.
It's been the most amazing, riveting, enjoyable and fucked-up roller coaster ride.

Of course, there's a possibility that another TV channel buys the rights to continue with the show, but in my eyes it will never be the same.
So, as with all good things, it has come to an end.

Thank you Big Brother.
Thank you for satisfying my obvious voyeuristic tendencies and providing me with hours and hours of brilliant entertainment.
And of course my summers wouldn't have been the same without the yummy Davina McCall. Love you Davina xx. Not forgetting kudos to George Lamb and of course the über sexy Dermot O'Leary. Shwing!

"Big Brother, you have been evicted. I'm coming to get you."

I never walked near the edge. Used to fear falling. I never swam far from shore. Never tried the secret door.

For the last ten days, my folks have been in America.
My Uncle has been suffering with a 'sore throat' since the back end of last year. At least, that's what we'd been led to believe. Several weeks ago, he went to see a doctor/specialist/consultant for said sore throat and hasn't been out of hospital since. In fact, most of the time he's been in intensive care, or whatever they call it in America.
He lives alone. His nearest family; his daughter, lives about forty miles away from him. She was diagnosed with lung cancer about three weeks before he went to see his doctor and has been receiving chemotherapy since.

Since news reached us that my Uncle was diagnosed with throat cancer, which was when a doctor phoned my Nan (listed as his next of kin) to ask permission to perform an operation on him, the house here has been in disarray. My Nan has been beside herself. My Mum has been desperately trying to speak to somebody in the hospital; a nurse, a doctor, a specialist, a consultant, who would give us some straight answers. Frustratingly, it's been a string of inconsistent information, ranging from; "He's doing much better", to "He's been in a coma since the doctors tried to put a tube down his throat", to "We think he'll be well enough to be discharged soon", to "It looks like he suffered a stroke or possibly a heart attack when he stopped breathing on the operating table", to "I'm sorry, we can't tell you anything because we don't know ourselves".

I've spoken to my Mum several times since she, my Dad and my Nan rushed over there ten days ago. They were hoping by now he would have been well enough to be back at his own house, receiving his treatment. Unfortunately, it's not the case.
His condition sounds advanced. He is weak. Each time the doctors plan to perform an operation; mostly to do with inserting tubes here, there and everywhere, his condition worsens. We're informed he is too weak to 'go on the table'. As a consequence, there are still some tests and 'things' the doctors need to do, but of course they wont until he is stable enough to have a fighting chance of coming out of the anesthetic.

A phone call from my Mum yesterday updated me with the latest on his condition. He has been much more stable the previous two days and the hospital staff are hopeful that he can be taken off the equipment that's helping him to breathe. Hopefully, with a more stable condition, they can continue with the tests, the tube insertions and finally start his treatment. Unless, of course, these test results say that treatment is pointless.

I'm going down, I don't want to change. I'm going down, going down the drain.

Don't keep asking me the same thing over and over and over.
Each time you ask, my answer loses more and more feeling.
And you can hear it in my voice. I know you can.
I begin to begrudge the question, whilst you begin to doubt my integrity.

Not only does it get us nowhere; it chips away, it pulls apart and begins to dissolve our relationship.

You're asking me to be something I'm not capable of.
Asking me to be a person I cannot be.
Don't want to be.

I am not what you're looking for.

Taking the second plan. Begging to understand. Life of a selfless man.

There's been some fantastic music around lately. I'm loving this years groove, so far.

Currently loving Bombay Bicycle Club; both albums, but the acoustic one in particular, Eliza Doolittle, Paloma Faith, The Foals, The xx (brilliant album), Arcade Fire, Mumford & Sons, Goldfrapp, Plan B, Katie Melua and still, still loving Biffy Clyro's latest.

Now your back's to the road. Waiting's everything you know. I'm sure know that I'm leaving.

She brushed his hand in bed that night, but she didn't mean it. If he'd have been awake, she would have apologized.
But there was never any need.
She'd already made up her mind.

Dressed me up in womens' clothes, messed around with gender roles. Line my eyes and call me pretty.

So, I've changed jobs. So far, I like it.
On my first day, I had to fill in the usual forms. When it came to the 'optional' equal opportunities form, I was quite happy ticking away at the boxes until I came across the section about sexual orientation. I can understand company's wanting to 'measure' their own staffing, whilst also showing they don't discriminate, but I was a little taken aback over what I felt was a very personal question. But, after thinking about it for a while, I guess some people are completely happy disclosing their sexual preferences and yet aren't as happy stating their religion, for example.
There was a box for "Prefer not to say", but I drew a new tick box and labelled it 'Metrosexual', just to see if anybody commented on it.
Nothing yet.