nothing.

and i didn't even realise i was lonely. i didn't even realise i had nobody. nothing, there is nothing, i don't have nothing but nothing, it's less than anything.

they don't call me, they don't need me, they don't want me, they don't know me.

it's not even something, it's not even anything, it's absolutely nothing.

and i'm just sitting in my room.

and i'm just sitting in my room.

nothing, nothing, nothing,

i'm doing nothing

not even. ANYTHING.

i'm wasting this day.

i wasted yesterday.

i'll waste another day.

take another bite of me

Yes, I am scared of the fucking dentist. And here's why.

The dentist told me my teeth were awesome for years. I was the boy with no fillings, which was extremely rare. Everything was fine. And then one day, out of nowhere; I was like 14, they tell me my bite is all out of place and loads of panicky stuff about how it will affect me. And I'm like "dude, I don't want a brace" but they tell me I can have one of these ones that you can take in and out. I'm glad they gave me the option, cause I took it out.

Truth be told, I just wasn't man enough to wear braces and be proud about it. Our school was tough like that. So I basically just wore this brace thing at night. But it seemed to work, because the dentist was like 'woahhh, all fixed. Great. Your teeth are now lined up. Sweet.'

And then it was like a year later when I was at some dentist and the panic buttons went off, alarms everywhere--- YOU HAVE NO ENAMEL LEFT!!!!. The dentist said "hey stumbling falling dreaming flying, do you realize you have NO enamel?" and I was like "what's enamel?" and he said "it's important stuff" so I said "make sure I have some" but he said "you don't have any."

"So where the fuck is my enamel?" i asked, he pointed to a little display of coke cans and juices and said, "these things stole your enamel," so i said, "well let's steal the enamel the fuck back" and he said, "you can't, coke steals enamel forever," and i said, "correct me if i'm wrong" and he said, "you're wrong," but i said "i haven't even started yet" and he said, "okay sorry" so i said "correct me if I'm wrong but you've never mentioned enamel to me before," and he said, "no" and i said, "well i'm glad we cleared that up."

So my teeth have been about one fizzy drink away from disappearing for like 15 years or whatever now. And occassionally I'll notice when looking in the mirror that my teeth are eroding, chipping away. And it pisses me off, why did i find out about the enamel thing so late? Why, when I was 12 or whatever, or during the whole brace thing didn't someone say, "dude, enamel. it's bad. stop drinking lemonade."

So i stopped the fizzy stuff and the fruity stuff and all that stuff with acid. I got hooked on tea. Tea had the glorious caffeine and it didn't make enamel die.

So i was like 17, and it was a really grumpy age for me. I've analysed the reasons closely and found that the reason I was grumpy was because I was 17. I said, "do you have something i can take to make 17 less painful?" and he said "yeah, turn 18."

So anyways, I went to the dentist and he said, "you really need to stop smoking," and i said, "but i don't smoke," and he said, "that's funny, but you must stop smoking, your teeth are disgusting." So I said, "mate, you'd better shut your fucking pie hole," so he said, "okay, but you must stop smoking" and i said "i don't smoke. If you tell me I smoke one more time i'm going to tell you to shut the fuck up," to which he replied, "stop smoking," so i said, "shut the fuck up."

So he scraped away at the brown gunk that had clung to my teeth. This guy was supposedly a professional dentist, you'd think he'd know the difference between cigarette shit and tea shit.

So i stopped going to the dentist. And now, like, my teeth are fine, kinda. But they're getting a bit small, i think i grind away. And the enamel is evidently fucked because my main teeth seem to be ebbing away. Delightful. And my smile comes with yellowy-brown-tea-ness. Usually, when a girl says, "keep your mouth shut," it's offensive, but with me they just find it more attractive that way.

So I hate going to the dentist because I feel like they'll make shit up that I wasn't aware of like, "oh my god have you been watching the BBC?," and I'll say, 'yeah why?' and they'll say "the BBC causes giant flammable tooth decay!" and then I'll have to deal with that too.

Suffice to say, I've not called up a dentist for a date in years. Until today. My appointment is next week. And it's an NHS dentist, so i get to do the whole british healthcare thing. At least I can. Unless of course there is some kind of dental death panel with Adolf Hitler sitting next to Stalin and Obama. But then, that would be kind of amusing, especially if i could convince them for a game of scrabble.

go a different way.

Life happens quickly, then you die.

People repress you, then you die. People fight with you, then you die. People are jealous of you, then you die. People are destructive towards you, then you die. Or maybe you are repressive, a fighter, jealous and destructive. Either way you are numerous things and then you die.

Or you could go a different way. We have a tendency to moan about the people in our lives; we'll work for ten years with a repressive boss, we'll spend thirty years putting up with a jealous, destructive friend. Well, I'm telling you, you can go another way.

The first thing to do is accept that you are part of the problem. You play the victim, you sit there like fresh fish. You play a role which allows someone to be jealous of you, or angry towards you. So the first thing you can do is address this pattern with the person causing you strife. Or, if you are strong enough-- you can change the pattern; you can choose not to be victimized.

Or maybe it's time to let someone go or change your situation. Quite often it's pretty obvious and you've had everyone who knows you saying, "I don't know how you put up with it."

"Jealousy is fear of abandonment." -unknown.

When a jealous person fears losing you, they'll do anything they can to undermine your relationships and opportunities; and they'll do it by playing on your insecurities. So when things go wrong, you feel like you're to blame. A person who does this is not someone you want in your life. Their jealousy becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, because to NOT abandon them will leave you repressed and miserable for the REST of your life.

You are made to feel like shit, and then you die. Or you can go a different way.

It's one year ago today that my Uncle went out for some milk, and was killed crossing the road as a speeding motorbike struck him down, severing his leg; leaving him dying in the street. Things can really end that quickly. The great thing about his life is that in the five years prior to his death he changed his life completely, and in a birthday card to his wife, my Aunt, not long before his death; he wrote that it had been the best year of his life.

Life is short. If you die tomorrow, you need to make sure you righted the wrongs in your life. Getting rid of the destructive people in your life isn't a task for some distant, hazy tomorrow, it's for today.

The Big Empty

I am perched on a wall somewhere near Waterloo, I've been spending the best part of two hours walking around. I sat in a cafe for half an hour with a cup of tea and an annoying man yapping away somewhere on another table. My walk was broken down by me sitting in a park for twenty minutes, staring at pigeons and wondering how their day was going.

And the running theme in my mind was one of discontent, one of emptiness. It might be because the girl isn't in to me, it may be because it's coming up to exactly one year since my Uncle's existence was wiped out by a careless motorcyclist, it may be because I need a nap, it could be anything.

I put my tired and world weary feelings down to being overworked. But I just checked my diary, it hasn't been that busy. But then my mind has been busy, racing away as it does. I'm into the whole personal growth thing, the positive thinking thing, the psychology stuff.. I love it all and believe in it. But the more aware you become of you and those around you, the more you see how unaware they are. People's judgements and resentments just wear you down. And you just feel tired. You want a beach, a sea, and a girl with a golden tan. But all you have is this wall, somewhere near Waterloo.

And you look around as if for a sign, as if for someone to say 'I am the missing link! I hold the key! The big empty is no more,' but that person doesn't exist. I know that I hold the key, I just have a habit of opening the wrong doors, or when one is locked I don't take the time to smash it down.

Well that was nice, a little bit of metaphorical wording, but let's not distract from what's really going on-- that a giant Big Empty is pulsating through me, wondering where they've put the beaches.

I am so over being like this.
I am so past it.

but i need answers!

she said

i just can't understand why

i don't know why we didn't make it

why aren't we together?

why did we break up?

why did you say you'd go with me to the thing when you had no intention to?

why did you say that you loved me when you didn't.

why did you make all that effort one day only to take it all back the next?

why did you stick around for so long in the first place?

she said

why? why? why? why?

i said

i really, really, really do not care in the slightest. i have no answers for you. just like i didn't a year ago. go away. go away. go away.

dream a little dream for me.

i am so tired oh so so tired. so i thought ahead as to what days i want to be untired for and figured it'd be okay, especially if i can get some sleep tonight. i really need some sleep tonight because tomorrow is a long work day. not that i really need to be awake, i mean, i could sleep through it and still get everything done. but at least, with sleep i wouldn't be so grumpy, i wouldn't need so much caffeine.

i blame my pillow for most of the time i am unable to sleep.

i also blame myself for still not knowing whether i sleep with one pillow or two. and i don't know which side to lay on. and where are my arms meant to go? anywhere i put them, it's so unnatural. how confusing.

i am so tired. and i have a really bad headache. i tried figuring out what the headache is trying to tell me. was it telling me i am just tired? is it telling me i'm stressed? is it telling me to hold something back? is it telling me to chill? is it telling me i'm grumpy? what do you want headache? am i allowed to take a pill to ease your spell on me or would that be breaking the rules?

ugh. i should sleep. i only blogged this out to see what tired, headachy blogging is like. no way am i spell checking, or adding photos.

i wonder what i'll dream about. are the dreams already written and cast? i guess i'll never know. i wonder where the dreams will be set. i wonder if she'll be in them. probably not, as rumour has it she's signed a long-term dream-deal with Rick, who i despise. it's weird going to bed and not knowing whether it'll be a normal dream or one of those ones where my ex-girlfriend rents a monkey to perform hanson songs to me whilst i am mud-wrestling with a woman called kate who keeps saying the word 'chive' whilst doing hitler salutes; as everyone i knew in school is standing there making ham sandwiches.

it's time to sleep. goodnight.

the heart of life.

i climbed onto your bed and sat next to you, staring up at the ceiling- we just wanted to break right through it. everyone else sat around the bedside; some worrying, some thinking about dinner, some trying their best to keep to small talk. we were in our own world, me and you-- silly jokes were involved in our little bubble. you were about to have the scariest thing of your little life done to you, but you were just a kid, you were just a kid and you didn't need to be thinking about where the nurses were taking you.

and i heard snow patrol on the radio that night singing "if i lay here, if i just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?"

i remember laying beside your bed, waiting for the surgeons to come back and tell us something. i had my headphones in and was laying down by the window, i'd thrown my glasses to the side so i could lay down comfortably. i was in my own little world.

and i remember john mayer singing "i hate to see you cry, lying there in that position."

i remember turning around to face the room, i'm not sure if i was in a daze or just in need of my glasses, but there was this hazy outline of men in blue standing in the room, addressing your mum and dad. i grabbed the headphones off my head and jumped up. they said something about it going really well and achieving everything they wanted to achieve.

i remember everything. not because it's depressing, but because you were more of a man at 10 years old, then any man has ever been since. and now you're the greatest 13 year old in the world.

show me a garden that's bursting into life.

all that i am,

all that i ever was,

is here in your perfect eyes

they're all i can see.

king of the coffees.

i know guys who would kill to meet a hot girl for a coffee. i meet hot girls for coffees all the time. i am the king of the coffee.

what happens is, we meet for coffee. and i say 'no, i'll pay,' and then we sit and drink coffee and i talk for a while about how my career is going okay but not perfect but kinda good but okay it could be better but really i am also very excited and oh hold on she's starting to get bored so maybe i'll talk about her.

so then she talks about her ex and talks a bit about some other dude and then some family member called julie and mentions julie as if i should know julie and i nod along and then she looks at me for some kind of psychological insight and then i say 'oh yeah, you do that as a defence mechanism' and then she looks at me like i am some kind of god of insight.

and then i say we should get another coffee and then she says i should really go so i say that's a defence mechanism and she says no i should just really go so then she goes.

and this happens a lot with like a million different girls. a lot of guys get to their limits of comfort by merely being near a girl, some reach their point of fear at the very moment of sex, i reach my peak in the middle of starbucks.

so, as i look back at my career of coffee, i realise, i have had a lot of coffee with a lot of girls. and now i look back and i think, hold on-- surely, quite possibly, i guess maybe at least some of them could have liked me? if another dude i know went across town to meet a girl who'd also travelled across town just to do coffee i'd think hey hold on maybe she wants coffee. but with me they just want coffee. or so i assume. but now i wonder, maybe i was in there.

but in my mind it's like 'dude it's just coffee.' but why would they meet me a lot just for a caffeine kick? i'm not stupid, i know a lot of them would. i mean, why the fuck not, what else is there to do on a thursday afternoon at 4pm if you're not working? but maybe, somewhere, in my long list of girls i meet to discuss the world with and to give made up insights too --- at least some of them, surely, maybe, hopefully, definitely, okay maybe not at all, possibly... could have seen me in more of a positive light than just the dude they drink coffee with?

i don't know. maybe not.

i prefer tea anyway.

touch.

the touch was perfect. it was the arms in the cinema, the hand on the knee in your room, my thumb up against your little finger as we held the thingy on the train so not to fall over.

that's the best we could ever be. let's meet up for some accidental contact, or slight subtle stroking. anything less than that is nothing. anything more than that leads to heartbreak, insecurities, intentions. but the little touches are perfect.

the little hairs on your arms are adorable. your skin is warm and smooth. i just noticed your little bit of a sexy tan.

there is nothing better than a girl initiating an innocent skin-on-skin action. 'oh i'm just reaching for that dvd.' yeah right. 'look at this thing on my arm,' okay.

it might be friendly innocence.

it might be flirting.

it might be raging passions.

whatever it is, i want to delay it.

the touch is everything.

you get just one crack at life, who wants to live it in trouble and strife?

and her excuses mounted up-- it's not the right time, i have some things to figure out, i need some time to be me, i don't think you're quite right for this time in my life, i think i'm not quite sure what i feel.

WHAT IF I TOLD YOU I WANT TO BE WITH YOU?

She was like-- oh my god i have so many feelings i can't process, i need to figure out what this means to me, i'm not quite sure i'm ready to feel anything again, i'm not sure i trust you i mean i trusted barry and he ran off with susan, i need to figure out my job before i can be ready to even think about loving again.

WHAT IF I WAS DYING?

She was all-- hey come on don't be silly, this isn't the right time for me to feel, i can't deal right now, i'm not even sure where i am in my life, when this is over we can talk about us, and anyway i'm kind of seeing george he's really nice and he should be back from the gym any minute.

I AM DEAD. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT ME?

She looked in the mirror-- is now the right time? have i figured my poor little self out? am i ready to love? did i process my feelings? did i do the right thing? maybe I'll call Mr. Red on the telephone.

MR. RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE.

She visited his grave and said-- you meant so much to me, you cared so much for me, you were a shining light in my life, i think i may well have loved you....

She talked some more about love and soulmates and having wasted her time. She sobbed away as if someone should have sympathy for her. The only thing to do was to remind her of a simple fact.

MR. RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE.

Thank You, Truly.

Millions of people have written about him over the past weeks - but I wanted to throw a few words into the ring, if only for myself.

Harry Patch was the last remaining British soldier from World War 1 - who passed away on July 25th 2009 at the age of 111 (he was briefly the oldest man in Europe). It was inevitable, of course, that one day we would no longer have first generation people to tell us about what happened. It fills me with a saddness I can't completely explain-- but I am thankful that the last man standing was Harry, because the work he did in his final years, of sharing his message of peace and reconcilliation is something that will speak for years to come.

"It wasn't worth it. No war is worth it. No war is worth the loss of a couple of lives let alone thousands. T'isn't worth it...the First World War, if you boil it down, what was it? Nothing but a family row. That's what caused it. The Second World War...Hitler wanted to govern Europe, nothing to it. I would have taken the Kaiser, his son, Hitler and the people on his side and bloody shot them. Out the way and saved millions of lives. T'isn't worth it."

His views could perhaps be seen as simplistic-- but when it comes down to it, you realise just how right he is. What are we fighting for? Why do we do this? Why do we live this way?

He demanded than when he died, his body be carried by soldiers who are the age he was when World War 1 ended. And most moving of all - is that he had two German soldiers as pallbearers. I thought that was beautiful, and incredibly meaningful.

"Irrespective of the uniforms we wore, we were all victims."

I sit here in my comfortable back room, sipping tea. I have the comfort of my family, my job, my money, my home, my iPhone, my blog, my everything. I cannot comprehend or understand what you did for me, what you continue to do for me, and how thankful I am.

We are lucky in that there are veterans and holocaust survivors from World War 2. Although not enough. Let's make sure we take care of them. Let's make sure we listen, when they speak, yet understand if they don't want to. Let's make them proud.

Harry's message is of massive importance. It's time to forget about the division in terms of who fought who. German soldiers were the same as ours, just little boys being told to do a job. Let's learn from them, let's take care of them.

"If two Governments can't agree give them a rifle each and let them fight it out. Don't lose 20,000 men. It isn't worth it,"

And she never looked inside herself.

And the girl had never looked inwards, to see what might be wrong. Those around her were too angry, too judgemental, too self-obsessed, too rude, too impolite. Those around her were always in the wrong.

As her family split up into a million tiny pieces, she never saw her role. As the men drifted away, she never saw her part in their leaving. Sure, she said, 'it must be something about me,' but she never looked into why.

What would have happened if she'd looked at her own anger? her own judgements? Maybe if she'd looked at how she can be so rude, impolite, and self-obsessed. It seemed wasteful to be self-obsessed enough to believe the world was out to get her, or people were, without ever investigating further. She never found out what was in her. 'It must be something about me' is what she said, but she never looked at herself in the mirror that way.

It was a bit strange how everyone around her had failed in some way. You'd have thought she'd have seen they are humans, just like her. If only she had taken the time to see how she's similar to them, rather than just different.

'I blame myself' is what she said, of course, because she's self-obsessed. But why didn't she say 'I blame myself, maybe I can grow from this.' She took too long to identify with her own part in her life. She took too long to discover why she'd been left, and let down, and looked down upon. She took too long to say 'I'm me.' Before long she was nothing like anyone around her, because she refused to admit she can be spiteful, condescending, confusing, selfish. She didn't see how a moment of road rage or an argument in a shop was as much about her as the other person.

Her brain divided. All that could love, feel and receive was cut off from her personality, because she spent too long on the other side, too long being defeated by not opening her eyes to herself. And as she takes her pills and mutters to herself about her prejudices, she doesn't realise she's just an insight away from growing. If she took a day to look at herself and identify with who she is -- she might just find the road to happiness.