Wednesday, November 29, 2006

National Broadcast.

Originally, for those of you paying close attention, this title was to head up a very different post.

The kind of post that was angry and venomous, overflowing with hurt that I could have been lied to so much, and not seen it. How angry I am at myself for giving up my independence for someone who I never actually knew. Someone who, if I knew them, I would never have let them close to me, or wasted a year of my life loving them. But I have to be careful now, you can see the venom starting to overflow.

I wanted to name names, and tell her parents what she really does for a living, or worse still, what she does after hours. But it's not for me to do. You can't change others behaviour.

But you can change your own.

I am extremely insecure.

No surpirses there. I think most of it comes from my total lack of photogenicalizm. if you point a camera at me, things will turn out bad. I think in real life I'm actually ok, but when a camera enters the picture so to speak, all bets are off. And seeing as the only way I can really see myself is from a photo (mirrors don't count), then I think I look terrible.

But something I have learned from my post-breakup wasteland, is that this kind of insecurity is horrifically dangerous, not just for me, but for those I encounter.

I am a very friendly and outgoing person I have discovered. It's very easy for me to make friends and win people over (until they read this blog!) I have found that when I leave a room, people start asking my friends about me, and say a lot of really nice things. Gay guys love me (I have large hands), British women can't get enough (apparently I come off a lot like Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice, despite my heavily tattooed exterior), all kinds of people see different things in me that they seem to enjoy.

And this is a very good thing, because I like knowing nice people and making them feel good.

But there is a downside. because when you are friendly and genuine, and you listen, and look people in the eye, other people's insecure feelings kick in, and they think/hope that you see more in the situation than is there. They want to be adored, which is normal. When coupled with my insecurity, disastrous results can ensue.

I have to measure the amount of attention I give people, which sucks, frankly. Because when you are insecure as I am, other people's opinion of you is very important. If I spend too much time with one person, because my emotional need is to try and stay busy, to forget what I'm going through, that person gets attached very quickly (as a general rule), and then I am in a position where I have to let them down and hurt them, by not reciprocating the level of intense feeelings they are able to develop in a very short amount of time.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not the Arctic circle, I'm the Bahamas. I want to love and be loved, i won't run from that person, whoever they are. And it's not that I am hung up on my ex, and need to find someone just like her, because someone like her is someone I will never develop feelings for again. I'm ready to move on into new vistas of relationshipsville, but I am extremely picky, as well I should be.

I just don't want to be physical with anyone I'm not head over heels for. I don't want some relationship where independence means never seeing each other and even doing things seperately when together should be better. I want to wrap myself up in someone and feel all the intensity and passsion and the "I don't wanna go anywhere, I wanna stay here and hold you" thing that I dig so hard. I want the full menu. If two people are honest (haha!), and work to understand each others communication (and preferably aren't keeping their options open and giving themselves to other people at the same time), then you can be as intense as you like, without danger. Without losing yourself, your independence, or your power (more on this later).

So my point here is, because I don't want to settle, or fuck for fun, but I still crave people's attention and reassurance that I am attractive, I have created a dangerous situation where people step in to fill that void, but then get too emotionally involved, or want to be physically involved, and they get hurt.

Insecurity is dangerous, and should be handled wisely.

Besides, the very fact I have a line of willing (and beautiful) participants for the 2007 Relationship Games, must mean I have nothing to be insecure about in the first place, surely? (Don't let my photos fool you!)

I said I'd talk about power quickly, and I will.

I used to be ridiculously independent, I loved my own company, and preferred it over everyone else's. I was a hermit, and I actually liked it. When my old relationship started, her insecure demands meant I had to give her more and more so she might feel loved. More time, more attention, less time with friends. It was all about her.

Because I adored her, I did all this. I loved her when she was overweight and unemployed and depressed and needy. It wasn't easy, and we definitely clashed, but the love was genuinely there. Then she lost all her weight, changed her wardrobe, got her hair and makeup done a lot, and suddenly was transformed. Her new line of work meant men would pay attention to her non stop, and so she started to see that she was genuinely desirable (to look at), and that she was worried for no reason. Her attitudes changed, and suddenly she started to feel entitled to more out of life. And she didn't need my reasssurance any more, because she had it from every other direction.

But I had given her all my power. I was no longer independent, i was totally focussed on her, and making her see what I saw in her (which in retrospect was a total fantasy). But she was focussed on her too. And not on me at all.

Her needs and desires and expectations had morphed into some disgusting soulless monster, and I was left lovesick and unable to think about anythingg else. I gave her all my power, and that was my mistake.

I used to have a motto that was "never get involved wwith anyone you couldn't walk away from". It was very cynical and cold hearted, but I see why I thought that- to protect me from this.

But I will not freeze over again.

I have learned too much from this last year to deprive myself of the joy that comes from a loving companionship. I am no longer scared that I will not be able to attract the girl of my dreams, wherever she is. I think my chances are pretty good. And so I will continue to strive for happiness and positivity, and avoid dingy and heartless scenes that unfortunately those people I know seem to be magnetised by.

Having said all that, if you talk to me tomorrow, chances are I will be in the pits of despair, crying my eyes out, hurt, rejected, and forlorn. And the worst thing is, I have to go through all of that alone, because if I let someone hold me, there is a good chance they won't want to let go. And I transfer all that rejection and pain to them (while still keeping my original copy for tax purposes).

Life truly is a rollercoater. Let's all just hope it isn't the one at Luna Park in St Kilda. Or we're all dead meat.

This is knifey, from 'the internet'.

Monday, November 13, 2006

A blog post in two acts.

Today I got out of bed.

That might not sound like much, but if you were a fly on my wall, you would know it is amazing.

I have been fantasizing about knives through my heart, or plastic bags over my head, or the jerk jerk peace of drowning. But don't worry, I promised key people I wouldn't investaigate further. I am a man of my word.

At least today.

I've been living that rock and roll cliche of "hanging on the line" for the one you love. Of limbo, of never knowing, but knowing the answers will come some time soon. Like an execution. Waiting for the hammer to fall.


And so instead of crying and shaking and rolling myself into a ball, and knowing full well the strength of fear, of regret, and with the benefit of glorious hindsight, I rose.

I drank a berocca, ate a multivitamin.

I looked at food, and even though it took me three hours to remember to eat it, when it was right in front of me, I...I keep fading out you know.

I can only concentrate on one thing, and it isn't sleep, or eating, or being calm.

And I guess it shows.

The people around me are starting to talk. They bring me dinner to forget about. They stop by at odd times to make sure I'm still breathing. They know, I think.

Sure they do.

And I get emails.

I get emails from other bloggers, and they say "you sound so sad all of a sudden". There's no fooling you, I know.

I used to get emails, and they would relate how a person may have stopped by my page for whatever reason. And how just when they were about to leave again, a word or a phrase, or a whole entry caught their imagination. And how they appreciate the intensity and honesty and the familiarity of some of the things I have said. Like we're not so different, even though we are. They tell me they think I am gifted at writing, and they hope I never stop.

And now I know what that is like.

I accidentally landed on one of the thousands of songs I never listen to on my iPod yesterday.

It was a voice and an acoustic guitar, and as much as I was over that genre 15 years ago, it held me there.


What Becomes of Us- Holly Throsby, from the album 'Under the Town'.

It is early
You are dead
There are crows in our bed
But I won’t come undone
We are done, we are done
There is air still
In my lungs
I will get up and get on
With the other mouths and tongues
And the work there is to be done
This is what becomes of us
There are dim things in the pond
There is dust under the rug
And I don’t ever know
What’s below what’s below
But I am up!
I am above!
I have a new love!
And it’s warm like a gun
Or a knife that I fell on
This is what becomes of us
I was not ready
You won’t be back
I was not ready.

...the way she sings this song is so raw, and so region-specific, and so perfectly delivered. It's honest, and even if I wan't feeling it anyway, I would feel it, by virtue of the strength of her art.

She is a lot stronger than I am I think.

You can't fake that voice, the life that pours through it. And it shows the rest of us it can be done, and not only done, but conquered. Because she lives on the other side of that experience, and opens her mouth and sings about it.

And it is so sad and beautiful, just like the world Sparklehorse sang about.

You may like to connect in your own way:

This is knifey, from 'the internet'.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

One step forward...

...two steps back.

On my ever continuing quest to discover exactly what it is that drives me, to understand what exactly it is that makes me feel and think the things I do, I like to do very stupid things.

Here's a rule we should all live by: when you break up with someone, don't EVER look at their myspace page.

Just when you think you're actually ready to sayonnara everything you grew to know and love, and instead embrace your motto "onward and upward" with refreshed vigour, you have to go see her pictures and who's who and where, and suddenly you're back at square one.

For my American readers, I can spell "vigor", it's just over here we speak English. Sort of.

But it doesn't end there, because I don't like doing anything by half. Nope, if I'm to fuck something up, I have to utterly annihilate it beyond any recognition.

So I went back to our old place, to grab some more of my stuff.

And I saw that old carpet, and the peculiar smells that house had, and the weird lighting, and as I went upstairs I could just imagine all the times I'd turn the corner, and there she'd be. My god that's hard. And it's so very very gone.

For those of you late in tuning in, the "she" in question isn't dead. She's just not available or accessible in any way whatsoever. Not to me anyway. I'm sure she'd love to get to know you, however.

Why am I blogging tonight? I should know better. It's like drunk driving, it's just not done. My regular readers are probably sick of hearing me sook, and want to get back to the bad old days when I was funny.

I wouldn't mind getting back there myself!

I guess I just wanted to beat myself up, on the record, for being so slow on the uptake. For still not wanting to accept that she plain old doesn't like one thing about me any more. I don't feel like accepting that right now. Hurts.

For someone who always goes on about "being real" and "opening your eyes", that's very hypocritical.

That's me, apparently.

When someone hurts you, and you love them, how do you stop loving them? How do you wake up and say "I don't like this person?" I seriously want to know, so I can do it. Because it's really hard to focus on life and positivity when you constantly miss a person who for all intents and purposes, no longer exists. Especially when no one else you meet even compares to the hurtful version. I feel like I'd rather have her hating me and at least still have her in my life in some way, instead of having no contact or experience of her whatsoever.

I'm calling down an empty phone line here.

Can anyone out there reprogramme me (against my will)?

Don't tell me I just have to ride this all the way home. That's a long tunnel.

A real long tunnel.

This is knifey, from 'the internet'.