diary

after staying up past midnight to watch 'Bring Her Back' i thought it would be hard to wake up this morning for work. it was fine, though i did accidentally take Bec's keys and so suffered minor embarrassment extricating myself from the work meeting to drive back to return them (she was still asleep and was none the wiser). i also forgot my lunch and so had to subsist on Zooper Doopers. i suspect my colleagues think i have a problem. i spent a lot of the morning thinking about two people i met while i was travelling several years ago, fleshing out there characters in my head and wondering if i could use them in some kind of outback horror story i vaguely intend on writing. one of them, Danikka, has a face tattoo. a line down her chin  and between her eyebrows making her look like she has a monobrow with an elongated soul patch. she has white as white skin. 

today i thought to myself that i should have written something about the guy who's car caught fire during rush hour of the opening day of the tip shop in 2026. that was two days ago now and i fear the chaos of the swarm of customers descending like locusts at exactly 10 am is lost. that amidst it all, even while The Man Who Is Banned showed up and started instigating again the very thing he was banned for (fighting), that the gentleman who's car was almost but not quite yet on fire came up to me in the middle of making up prices for yet another customer's cluster of randomly assorted objects and said "do you have a fire extinguisher? it's kind of an emergency." and when i responded with appropriate alarm he said not to worry and wandered off. within 5 minutes his car was on fire. 

if a positive life can be built simply of the memory of a moment of ecstasy in childhood, like the hush of waves lapping from behind a windowshade illuminated by the afternoon sun, the so can a negative life be built around a moment of failure, betrayal, rejection, impotence. a memory of bitterness, jilted in life, like Ms Havisham, a moment one cannot ever surmount, your life revolving around it like a galaxy around a black hole.

 a dark persona sitting like a fat black spider in the center of a web of deceptions, half truths, deflections, jokes that aren't jokes, broken promises, betrayals. yes dark, twisted, unforgiving but also weak. afraid but afraid above all else of himself. his true self in his heart of small black hearts and so so the web is spun. a good looking guy. who will he snare? who will call out into his abyss and be greeted by their echo and will they realise what calls back? life is short. we live amongst monsters. relationships are fever dreams the dangling chains, the tumors and ooze and inky tendrils of our true selves drag behind, below, out of sight. 

the depth of grey in the fuzzy sky backlit by diffuse end of the day light gives a sense of enormity and insignificance. i watch the colossus imperceptibly shift, uncaring and feel happy to witness this moment. i look at the trees and the birds and my cat and consider for a moment nature. its cruelty. the trees but trembling clawing monuments to blind struggle. to life. death, decay, suffering but we all do it for a reason. i look up at the sky.