Sunday, January 22, 2006

Part 4235

"I saw your very soul naked, stark naked... I suffered the pangs of disillusionment; I saw a man in torment struggling towards inward harmony... Forgive me, I cannot feel in halves."

When I am in control I like to love with all my heart. Family, friends, partners. For them, anything. For that is what they have shown to me. Nothing felt in halves. When I am out of control I know no-one and no-one knows me. I burn, crash, fumble and fade. I thought I had tied a rope around my waist, I thought I had either secured it myself, or had someone holding it for me. But maybe there was no rope. Maybe I just fell into the black and imagined the rope. Or maybe the rope was frayed and tatty and torn and could no longer hold my weight. Could no longer tether me to shore as I washed further out to sea. And what I thought was a wave was actually a rip, a dangerous tide, and before I knew it, I had drowned. Refused the lifeboats that were thrown my way, lost in the reverie and the deep, dark, tumultuos ocean.

So I drowned.


I rode my bike to see the head doctor and the head doctor asked me, what are you suffering from? I replied, I don't know, can I just tell you some stories from my life and then you can...No, he said, I asked you what you are suffering from? I said, I don't know, I get crazy sometimes and I've lived this life for too long and I can no longer keep it up and I'm burning things, razing the ground, scorched earth, Operation Brunswick Storm and I really need to stop.

We started to talk. I told him things I do. Told him about my lack of control. Told him gory details. Cross sectioned myself on his chair and used a little pointer to highlight the internal shit. He said, that's enough for now, and turned on his computer. He said, You know, I can give you something that no-one else on the planet can give. In five weeks I can teach you exercises that can help you when you face these challenges...BUT...what you really need is THIS.

And he handed me a list of other head doctors. A long list.

I said, Holy fuck.


I had a plan. I had a plan and it was a very simple plan. I had a plan but before I knew it the plan drifted away from me. In the end my plan and what actually occured were as far away as Earth and Pluto. That's one year to travel, said NASA. Tedious. One whole year just to discover something in the furthest reaches of our galaxy, a whole year? I had a plan but all of a sudden I was a probe, a white hot streaking fast piece of metal and behind me the plan got smaller and smaller until it was but a speck, a star, a dim star and the rule of inertia states: that momentum is king. And momentum took me in its grasp and propelled me far, far, far beyond the reaches of my plan.

And there is no restaurant at the end of the universe. Just cold, dark, lonely, lonely space.

But the view is incredible.


That's a long list mister, I said. What does this mean? Can't YOU help me? I like your attitude, you seem to have the right stuff, and I'm kind of getting desperate here, CAN'T ANYONE THE FUCK HELP ME PLEASE THANKYOU.


He said, I've been doing this for a long time, and I can read you very well. You're an intelligent guy, a bright guy, the exercises I can give you may help you in the short term, but eventually you will need to come to your own conclusions about things. A brain like yours needs to find the answers, not be provided with them. These doctors, that's what they do. They're creme de la creme and I think they will provide the support you so obviously need.

I said, but can you still give me the exercises? Please, I need them NOW. I have some urgent situations here mister, and I could really do with some short term relief.

We talked some more, then he taught me the first exercise.


I was thinking about the crazy lady on one of these sites who finds pleasure in being cruel. And I realised that though I am clumsy and fucked and wasted and stupid, I will never act malicious or be cruel for cruel's sake. It was small consolation, but I am only small, so I held on to it.

But you know, shit, maybe my black heart, maybe that out of control me, maybe he does act cruel. Maybe that's why I've got to flee.


A few days ago I felt myself starting to feel strange, so I used the first exercise and it calmed me down. Didn't fix me, didn't make me better, didn't mould the world into a nice easy to swallow shape, but it calmed me down. A few days after that was when I was swept out into the dark, deep sea. I didn't do my exercise, I didn't have time to think. The storm swept me out and I became the storm and lightning was in my eyes where before there was sunshine, and clouds coloured my every move and my tongue was rolling thunder, belching and breaking the precious, precious silence.


Tonight my guardian angel knocked on my door out of the blue. We went for a walk and I told things that I needed to tell. She said, did you know that in America when there are sneakers thrown over the power lines that it means someone was shot there? And apparently in Australia when there are sneakers thrown over the power lines, it means a drug dealer lives in that street? We laughed and wondered how one would go about finding the drug dealer. Knocking on doors and asking, excuse me, are they your shoes on the power lines? Wink-wink. She said, there are a pair of shoes right out the front of my house, and they look like your old Converse.

I told her I was in a black place, I told her I wasn't sure I could continue to surround myself with temptation all the time, to keep trying to suceed when I put myself in situations that are bound to test me. I said, maybe I need to go away. She said, it's going to be ok. And I don't care how many people say that to me, I want EVERYONE to say that to me. I need everyone to say that to me right now.


As the head doctor shook my hand and sent me on my way he said, I think it might be hard for you to talk to other people about all these things. It sounds like some of the people you know may find it difficult as it holds a mirror to their own behaviour. I said, yeah maybe, but no-one goes crazy like me. It's sort of my schtick. But I don't want it to be. People called me a zombie. My eyes roll around like ball bearings and I can't control anything. I don't care if that holds a mirror, I don't think it does, I think I just need to RUN RUN RUN.

I told him I would return the next week, and he told me he would teach me the next exercise.


My guardian angel made me feel a little safer, a little stronger and a whole lot less lonely. She said, I don't think you should be doing this alone. I said, I don't wanna. I told her I still felt like a little kid, but I wanted to be a grown up. I told her, I think I've burnt my bridges, and now some people will be grown ups on the other side of the chasm, and even if I become one too, I might not be able to get back to where they are. I don't think they can wait for me, even if they want to. She said, well, whoever is still standing on your side of the chasm will be there for life.

Stupid guardian angel. But I didn't cry. Not tonight. Not here in print.


I like Bukowski. I like Bukowski and his filthy, rotten sentences. The alcohol drenched brute sensuality that lies beneath his beautifully vulgar prose. His rawness, his single minded passion for the written word.

I like him but I do not wish to be like him. Processions of drinkers beside me as dawn reignites the sky, years and years of 3am poetry and clothes tossed in the street. Fights and fucks and fashionably cheap, fascinatingly NASTY.

He's good to read, but I'm emulating him now without the talent, and that is no way to live.


If I stop typing I'm going to have to think so I keep going. The head doctor is once again far away and the ocean of me and the space in between us is crushingly close. I don't have claustrophobia, but who the fuck wants to be buried alive? Besides, this is just another story, just another tale, and in the telling of it, I begin to see the sense of it. So I want to keep typing, to keep thinking to you and you and you, but of course, none of this is for you, it is all for me, it always has been. I wish more than anything that this path was someone elses, that I was the Rock, the Mountain, the Earth. But I think I'm more fire than what I care to admit. I think I'm boiling myself alive and it's going to take a whole heap of dirt and earth to put me out.


And the way tonight is going, I may well see you again at 3 in the morning.
But if not, may our paths cross soon.


  1. it's going to be ok

  2. "He who has never swooned, is not he who finds strange palaces and wild familiar faces in coals that glow; is not he who beholds floating in mid-air the sad visions that the many may not view; is not he who ponders over the perfume of some novel flower - is not he.."

    edgar allan poe

  3. But is he who swooned doomed to madness and falling down go boom?

    That I could find a balance.

    Beautiful quote.

  4. not at all, there was one man who escaped a deep descent into a maelstrom such as the one you seem to be experiencing. his advice would be to hang onto a cylindric shape. they seem to float.

  5. Sherriff, I existed in the world that you write about for many years. I saw more headshrinkers than I can remember, and I tried every head drug on the market. I had dreams where I fought and fought and fought; and woke up a sweating, angry ball of tension.

    If you met me today you would see a completely different person.

    I am living, breathing, feeling, talking, writing proof that it's going to be OK.


  6. It will be ok, ok. I will always be there for you,like i have been before, when you were the bungalow boy. If you wanna talk let me know, i only live next door, literally. Still have the same dressing gown that does not close at the front as well.

  7. "You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it" - can you believe these wise words actually came out of Margaret Thatcher's mouth?

    It's true though, so true.
    But you will win it eventually.


  8. stay strong, beautiful man. x

  9. I admit to being crazy, but i hope i am not the one you refer to as cruel. Is teasing cruel?

  10. I'm not sure if you are who I meant Anon. In fact I'm thinking about cancelling the anonymous comments on here so I can find out who the Hell all you anonymous people are. No one has been cruel to me, if that makes sense. Teasing is fun sometimes. In fact, sometimes I get anonymous comments wanting to fuck me. That's just fucking strange...Hi, I write fucked up confessional woe is me posts...yeah sure I'll fuck you...

  11. The greatest revelation I ever had is - none of it means anything!!! Ta da! The most liberating fact of all......just breathe and scream and cry and laugh and breathe and let it pass......beacause it absolutely will be ok angel boy xxx

  12. I agree to a point ANOTHER ANON. But it's not the screaming and loving and laughing and fucking and hands in the air YEEHA! that I have a problem with. It's messing with anyone who happens to be close to me when I am out of control. I agree, life is fleeting and beautiful, it is a dream to be savoured and loved. But don't.fucking.hurt.anyone.

    I don't think I've ever replied this much to people. Maybe it's because you called me angel boy.


  13. But please don't hate yourself. Please please please.

  14. I don't hate myself. I have a deep abiding belief in what lies inside my soul. I'm just trying not to fuck up. I fuck up. ALL THE TIME. I'm incredibly disappinted and angry at myself, but that's way different than self-hatred. Life is too good, I've seen too much beauty and love to hang onto self loathing.

    This is all very life affirming isn't it?

  15. My first comment on your blog. And I'm not anon.

    I was where you are now 6 months ago. And a year before that. And a few years before that. And ...

    The good news is, it does eventually go when you just calm the fuck down. That's the best advice I was given last year. Just calm the fuck down. I did. It worked. I'm still a well out of control fucker compared to most people, but at least I'm not a helicopter taking out everyone in my path with my razor sharp blaes of destruction.

    Those who stood by me during those times are still there and love me without question. The rest are history and were but a fleeting moment in my life and mean nothing to me, or likely anyone else.

    Calm the fuck down. So simple it was a revelation.

    Ali x

  16. Spunky boots AND good advice.


  17. Sherriff - awhile ago you wrote something regarding me, which I am sure you would think of as insignificant, but I found malicious. At the time I was struggling. I still can't face your crowd.

  18. That's weird, I'd like to know what it is you took offence to, so I could perhaps offer an explanation. I certainly try to only point any malicious intent at myself. Obviously we have met, but I am racking my brain as to who exactly you are. Are you certain it was you? Most problems or misunderstandings are sorted over a cold brew. I'd be happy to do that with you oh anonymous one.

  19. other other other other mattJanuary 31, 2006 at 1:22 AM

    You know, in living your life you will hurt people, you will feel bad, and people will get over it. Those that don't have their own issues to deal with. Don't be too hard on yourself matty, we are all our own harshest critic, and the last one to forgive ourselves. Your fire might just be the spark needed to rekindle someone's life. That said, work hard at being the better person you want to be and it will all be okay.

  20. I'd like to know who you are. I like you.

  21. other other other other mattFebruary 1, 2006 at 12:58 AM

    he was wondering how he'd answer such a question. He mused and mused, getting restless and frustrated. He guessed you would get to know who he was from the comments on your blog, but this seems a short lived journey eh. :) other other other other matt is glad you like him matty b, he really digs you too.

    matty w (evandar at, if you want to know who I am)