Strange Kind of Afternoon

It's a strange kind of afternoon. Overcast. Dull. Half light. Melancholy.

R & B plays. My cat meows at my feet... almost on queue.

I took my mum out to lunch @ Georgio's in Malvern. She loved it. She loves anything that involves company, now. The widow mantel still sits uneasily on her.

The house is in shadows, just the minimum light seeping in. Everything is gentle and soft.

I'm waiting for Guido. He's in the Yarra Valley, giving his new Saab a run, but promises he'll be back by, well, now really. Must be lucrative, this Guido work, he's had a Jeep and a convertible BMW, since I've known him. I guess he can't put it in the bank, hey?

Manny came over last night. He said he'd meet me after work and he arrived about 4pm. Must be good not having to work for a living and not having to worry about time. The slave time line ensnares us all, traps us all in pointless jobs working for pointless reasons.

I was hopeless. Tired and hungry, so Manny had to do all the work, bless him. Sexy boy. We walked from the city to Carlton. He makes me laugh. I love that feeling of another body being close that is mine. Connected. Together.

Luke turned up a bit later, to hang out with me, as he and Mark are on the skids. Luke smokes too much dope and his withdrawal, because of it, makes Mark feel unloved and alone, even when they are together.

It's what Manny says about me. It's what Tim says about Nicholas. Stoners and non-stoners don't seem to work.

Mark's at Evans Head with friends. Doing their vegi garden, just up Mark's alley. He called me a few days ago to say he was lonely.

Luke said he didn't understand what Mark's problem was, but he told Manny that he smoked too much dope. So he knows.

It makes me feel sad. The end of any relationship is sad, but even more so with people I spend a lot of time with. I can't image Luke gone, not really.

We watched teev. We ate pizza. We smoked pot.

The light seeps away some more, sliding into night. Gone to darkness, as the fairy lights blink on, one by one, above us. Another day gone forever, a little more of this finite life having seeped away.

The sky is grey, silver, almost white, hanging over our heads. It chills my soul, that solid expanse of grey, makes me feel as alone as I am.

What the hell is Guido doing?

I think I'll build a fire and curl up on the couch with my blue blanket.