Archive for the Reversioning life category

Ripe for (di/con)version

I want to show someone the taut strings and the tendril wires that tie me togeth­er, barely keep me togeth­er, then choke me dur­ing those moments when I’m incon­veni­ently breath­ing, make my flesh either ache or crawl. Take this someone’s stead­i­er hand, thrust it into my skinned open chest and encour­age a bout of intern­al […]

The Queen who vanished

Bolt upright in bed, sweats and shivers, woken from sleep by a sud­den return: the know­ledge of how dan­ger­ous I could be. She told me, whispered to me over white noise, that I would prove dan­ger­ous to know. Not in a Byronesque way; no, far more real than that. I had no reas­on to believe […]

Disconnected diary notes #177

I spent much of yes­ter­day after­noon con­sumed by that most hate­ful and juven­ile of emo­tions: envy. I am not proud of myself. I felt like a selfish eight-year-old child, ‘thk­weam­ing and thk­weam­ing’ about how unfair it all is until they get their way, rather than a sup­posedly mature man in his early forties who has […]

Disconnected diary notes #83

If I occa­sion­ally behaved like some kind of spoilt juven­ile tout­ing an angu­larly scrawled list of petty griev­ances against the world, then I would have spent a couple of hours this even­ing mulling over why my appar­ently imprac­tic­al wishes for my con­tin­ued exist­ence on this plan­et seem so emin­ently prac­tic­al, even easy, for oth­er people […]

Disconnected diary notes #37

An appar­ently sens­ible forty-one year-old man should not be feel­ing this way, espe­cially when he?s going to be forty-two years old in less than two months. ?And what way is that?? you might well ask. ?Oh, you know. That way,? I would undoubtedly respond, hid­ing my true thoughts behind lin­guist­ic vacu­ity. I?m keenly aware that […]

Real/unreal events in unreal/real settings

This even­ing, after an exhaust­ing and hec­tic 12-hour work­ing day, I respon­ded to a self-right­eous online com­ment by someone I happened to know twenty years ago — a name I there­fore con­sider to be noth­ing more than a ‘vir­tu­al’ pres­ence in my life — with a sur­pris­ing out­break of pro­fan­ity. I’ll accept that season­ing my […]

Start again?

If I went right back to the begin­ning — at least the point where I think I began — it would be beside an over­grown canal, hid­den away at the far end of a dreary park in a small rur­al town you’ve nev­er heard of, let alone vis­ited. If I went back to the begin­ning, […]

Sums

idf71dea09dyhot60kx4 1wum58wxhvetaguqvtfw hr203x9jrj71ik29ty3a hywsgjuk819ic0kehn62 cdp1ttim6fsf6vw4t8dq 41q0ke4kuforp4sh17yq inv5uxaiz2d0xscl7upd mosgwd25o699yd22efk8 w2adwy3c6eakm0ymrou2 aneo44uu8fm9kl20xnib 1mvhiajxcm1ifhpkfi1d 4wydusqyilb5xyjqc6w8 nw9svf5lhcikdbc89d67 xxa15vw5h59dkgueqg1c nsefs7lqgi94104cqzg2 qzymh5de340jeqosuksm c6tx2xn2hly91aqjqbg4 cpgd4aqeh9wqv20x48vb 58z5gq8cyw7cqu3grbhl k41iohvdjm2cgwfnygds mi2iygdf0a6ovdbxnsgo rr8mc6n3i1iokuq40gy9 66wmkmqnmxoe5p8r0y0c b6ut5u1tc617mk7bfjbw fy2fw3glu68qfn37k1hh 1se6vk0ungrx19s50dj5 mqkzwio1nvxbydoqi8tx 4fm9pyunzfu1s67f1bvw vcwvbqr7ea33cj91voal 0lq0zntkn86nlohe8i5o In the space of sev­en days, give or take a few hours: Six people, of whom three were in per­son. Three were face to face […]

Space for breath, for seeing, for skin hunger

This place is almost becom­ing a diary. That’ll have to stop, because I abhor diar­ies. Very few people are so inter­est­ing that any­one in their right mind would want to know all the details of their day to day exist­ence. Frankly, even I don’t want to know all the details of my day to day […]

Passing at various speeds

From clos­ing my anonym­ous door to reopen­ing it again, I’ll be away for little more than twenty-four hours. Yet it’s aston­ish­ing how much of a break it seems to one who is so fre­quently caught by cir­cum­stance and bound by dull routine. I want to fever­ishly gulp in all the air around me, hold it […]

Exhibitionism is for fools, self-confident or otherwise

One of the odd and some­what unset­tling aspects of this most likely tem­por­ary return to reg­u­lar writ­ing online — no, nearly thir­teen years after start­ing ‘blog­ging’, that word still causes an irrit­at­ing tic and I refuse to use it — is won­der­ing who might be read­ing. If you’ll per­mit me a moment of loath­some immod­esty, […]

Delete event

Shortly after mid­night, a remind­er tone erupts into life, pulled from my phone’s extens­ive rep­er­toire of syn­thet­ic sounds for all occa­sions. It doesn’t wake me: I’m not asleep yet. As I get older I feel the need to eke out every day to an inad­vis­able extent, des­pite the tired­ness that so often res­ults. I’ve fallen […]

Hidden in plain view

Writ­ing shouldn’t require an audi­ence. I rather want to spin the world back twenty years to a time when there didn’t seem such a need for any aim­less stream of words to be viewed by more than one pair of eyes — the writer’s own — in order to exist. Because that’s what it’s about. […]

Too early on a Sunday morning

Dear blog (or web­log or thing), I haven’t slept all night due to find­ing myself con­fused about feel­ings. To make it clear from the out­set, I loathe people who end­lessly go on about their ‘feel­ings’, which I sus­pect is why I found myself awake for so much of the night: it was equal parts con­fu­sion […]

It’s not all me, me, me

It’s sur­pris­ing to dis­cov­er which seem­ingly decis­ive activ­it­ies in fact require some level of com­mit­ment, and an almost fatal amount of ego­centrism, in order to fol­low them through to a suc­cess­ful out­come at two o’clock in the morn­ing. Need­less to say — or maybe not need­less, I don’t know, it depends how well you know […]

Caffeine suicide

An over­whelm­ing sense of self-loath­ing makes me want to shoot myself in the head in the middle of Star­bucks, spray­ing slith­ers of my brain and skull shrapnel into the Soy Lattes and Tall Skinny Hold The Froth No In Fact Give Me More Froth Give Me More More More Froth Until I Froth From The […]

Three-ring circus

Down on my luck, with a few scrap­ings to my real name and even few­er clip­pings to my vir­tu­al one, I took myself off to the end of that slow and once grace­ful meander, where the well-heeled lux­uri­ous palaces — built in styles of archi­tec­ture bear­ing their regal inspir­a­tion and car­ry­ing blue plaques pay­ing test­a­ment […]

Wake me when the world ends

It’s late, and there’s noth­ing hap­pen­ing here. It’s early, so there’s always some­thing hap­pen­ing over there. Send it down the wires into my lap. At the push of a but­ton I can start a chain of events, unfold­ing them in a far-flung corner that could so eas­ily be the next street. All it would take […]

Thoroughly lost to logic

I have sub­sumed my true iden­tity into an art­fully con­struc­ted ball of elast­ic, elab­or­ate con­fu­sion. A ball of insist­ently burbling com­mu­nic­a­tion, fol­low­ing hot on the heels of non-brief brief­ings. A ball of incon­sist­ent and even ragged semantics that makes no sense in any lan­guage, be it artist­ic or tech­nic­al. I am play­ing part(l)y polit­ics, even […]

Unphotographable

I am an imper­fect pho­to­graph­er. Impre­cise and imprac­tic­al. Unprac­tised and ama­teur. The frame that I form between my out­stretched fin­gers is incon­sist­ent, unevenly shaped, plain wrong. My astyg­mat­ic eyes fre­quently fail as a pin-sharp view­find­er. My nervous bal­ance and lack of poise turn the focused to fuzzy. I prefer a statue to a liv­ing and […]