Archive for the Holes in time category

15:38

Prob­lems speak­ing. Prob­lems writ­ing. Need to get both back some­how. Cos this isn’t nor­mal.

16:02 and waiting for outward signs

My head is so com­pletely full of detrit­us and scabs That I won­der when they’ll emerge onto my skin

20:58 and whither

Some­times I Some­times I Some­times I Some­times I Breathe I think I know What You’re Think­ing Or wheth­er Or whith­er No ques­tion No answer Some­times I Some­times I Some­times I Some­times I For­get WHAT?

15:52 and the loss of the definite article

This nev­er was That nev­er was This is not That is not This will nev­er be That will nev­er be I’m all out Of was, is and will be Try­ing to future­proof But lack­ing in evid­ence

23:36 and still here

I’m try­ing hard — though fail­ing — to fight all the demons tonight: the demons of utter loneli­ness, the demons of abject fail­ure, the scream­ing demons inside my head and the domains without (the noise, the fuck­ing noise, the traffic and the damned sirens). I feel ashamed, even child­ish When, as now, as tonight I […]

19:29 and I would, in an instant, a blink

The rain’s not help­ing tonight. As a res­ult, I’m becom­ing angry and frus­trated. The rain is always sup­posed to help, just the sound of it, allow­ing me to close my eyes and tem­por­ar­ily drift off, step out of myself. All that ridicu­lous psy­cho­lo­gibull­shit stuff, you know. Don’t you? I tried to work earli­er, to take […]

14:22 and the intemperance of temper

It hurts to see your­self being writ­ten out of people’s per­son­al his­tor­ies. At best, I am a polite if some­what ashamed foot­note; at worst, I’ve been com­pletely erased. I exis­ted then and — though I often doubt it these days — I still exist now. I think(?) I exist on social media, of course. Because […]

12:36 and time passes

It passes too quickly. Time, that is. Yes, head down, work­ing hard, stop­ping only to eat, shit and sleep has its bene­fits — namely, keep­ing the stut­ter­ing, slav­er­ing, scream­ing demons at some kind of dis­tance, bey­ond the gates, demand­ing entry. But sud­denly whole days have passed, weeks. A cal­en­dar remind­er that pinged into life this […]

00:58 and they drill into the earth

My desire, my wish, my need, my want. Is to be trans­por­ted. Utterly trans­por­ted. In all senses of the word. Mean­while. This.

17:28 and at 17 per cent unreturned

I’ve not been able to work today. Stared at the screen, mov­ing win­dows around, open­ing applic­a­tions, load­ing up the things I need to do but then just star­ing, star­ing, star­ing. I await dead­lines. I can’t relax without a dead­line or two. I wait on people’s emails with their wishes, dir­ec­tions and thoughts of how I […]

16:18 and a wreck for guidance

These should be the simplest of things to do. Actions that barely require a moment’s thought, because no one else would think about them bey­ond a second or two, if that. And yet they reduce me to a bag of nerves — agit­a­tion, clenched fists, fin­ger­nails dug into palms, pal­pit­a­tions, twitch­ing eye­lid, even phys­ic­ally trem­bling. […]

23:38 and the eye of the clock

These days are full of oth­er days that I’m remem­ber­ing too much. Everything is remem­brance. Every moment is a memory. I’ve thrown myself back to some­where in July of vari­ous years gone by — 1989, 1993, 1998, 2005, 2007, 2009, 2012. Times when any­thing and everything and all seemed pos­sible. Corner­stones that deman­ded to be […]

17:10 and haze and hazy and hazier

I am — fool­ishly, irra­tion­ally, unwisely — remem­ber­ing the rare week­ends of the near­er as well as the more dis­tant past when long sum­mer days seemed relax­ing, almost care­free, bor­der­ing on bliss­ful. Warmed out­side by the sun, yes, but — and more import­antly for me — warmed inside by com­fort, an under­stand­ing pres­ence, lazily mur­mured con­ver­sa­tions […]

18:12 and no pause for thought

This morn­ing, I awoke and did the star­ing thing. The star­ing thing. Where I just briefly look at the wall in front of me, but then for­get to stop look­ing. No idea what I’m think­ing. If, indeed, I am even think­ing. Before I know it, an hour has passed. Though I’ve always been sus­cept­ible to ‘holes in […]

00:28 and a bloody orifice

I’m not sure what I’m doing any­more, and I’m pretty sure that whatever I’m not sure I’m doing I am also doing it wrong.  I caved, dear read­er. In ways I shouldn’t have.  I don’t mean to be cir­cum­spect — con­sid­er­ing what I’ve been pub­lish­ing here, it’s a bit late for my once char­ac­ter­ist­ic obfus­ca­tion […]

12:54 and the choke of tumbleweed

I think the fond, warm­ing memor­ies I keep locked away for use in fal­low peri­ods are get­ting tired of being exploited, explored, over-ana­lysed, examined almost forensic­ally. They’re look­ing dog-eared and thread­bare. Worn out and erod­ing.  I can’t really blame them. I do rather cling to them. 

23:20 and resident in nobody’s empire

Too tired to work. Too brain-dead. So instead I spent the day mostly star­ing ahead, while becom­ing a ridicu­lous ste­reo­type of a […]. Anoth­er thing I miss: escap­ism. Noth­ing seems to provide it, and hasn’t done for many months, even for more than a year. I’ve tried films and tele­vi­sion. Noth­ing. Not even books. I […]

20:01 and they have a word for that somewhere

I’m los­ing con­trol of lan­guage. I’ll be say­ing some­thing out loud to myself and then the words just crumble away in front of me like a decay­ing rope bridge. I have no idea of the phrase, the verb, the adject­ive I’m look­ing for. I find it unnerv­ing, unset­tling, even a little scary. Then at oth­er […]

14:16 and all/none of the wrong people

I know all the wrong songs for every occa­sion. And even when there isn’t an occa­sion. Whole albums of the stuff to send me reel­ing the wrong way. Here she is, get­ting out the scrap­book. Did we used to live like this? Did we really used to live like this? (We did. And some of […]

22:17 and looking for footprints

I star­ted work at approx­im­ately 10.00am this morn­ing. I’m just fin­ish­ing now, hav­ing paused for barely half an hour in that time. I’m not look­ing for sym­pathy. I’m doing this out of neces­sity, both prac­tic­al (roof over head) and emo­tion­al (oh, you know). This is now my diary, evid­ently. This is now a diary. This […]