Holly Thursday

Hey Christian.

Hope this crisp Autumn morning finds you just dandy!

Keith and I are travelling down to the Laird leather night tonight, I'm picking him up from his work in the city around midnight. Then we're going to the Peel, I suppose I'll be ever so lightly twitchy.

Are you interested in coming along Miss? I could pick you up on the way through.

xTom

Morning

I might be interested, but I have a lot to do between now and then. Too much to think about now.

Gotta drive to Bolago, drive Mark and Luke to the airport and then go to my mum's for dinner.

You know, it suddenly hit me that I'm going to miss them lots. Funny how things creep up on you when you least expect it.

I managed to go jogging last night. And somehow I've promised my mum breakfast ever morning over Easter. My mum used to be such an independent lassie once, but now I hear the loneliness in her voice so clearly, it fair breaks my heart sometimes, to hear that change. I decided that I'm going to go bike riding every day over the long weekend and when I said to mum that it isn't that much further out of my way, just a slight detour on a secondary bike track, to visit her, I could hear the sense of relief in her, from what was shaping up to be four lonely days not seeing anyone.

Call me about the pub when you are on your way and I'll see if I feel like it.

christian

Hey Chriso,

I suppose the boys are really excited today!!

Do you want to catch up tonight (me after work) for a bite? No worries if you are busy – we'll do it another time.

Adi

Adi

I'd love to catch up, but I go to my mum's on Thursday night for dinner.

I think they are excited. I spoke to them late and they were just starting to pack. Luke said he had to get a bigger suitcase.

I've got to be at Bolago at 4pm to get them to the airport by 5pm.

We'll catch up soon

christian

No probs. I just phoned and spoke to Mark and they are very excited!!!!

You have a great Easter – see you next week.

Love

Adi

SMS 9.52. So many hot wog boys at uni. You would be like a pig in shit – Tom

SMS 9.58. Leg tackle one and bring him home for me, will ya! – christian

Ok Miss you got it!

Tom

I'm off for Easter now. Off to pick up, who I assume are, very excited boys.

Wish me luck.

I should be home after mums about 10pm.

christian

Good luck!!!!

Give em my love!!!!

Will call on the way through, when leaving Keiths work

Tom

I hugged Mark and Luke goodbye, I said I wished I was coming and they said they wished that too. I held one in each arm and just felt how it felt, I wouldn’t see them for 8 weeks. I held a last glimpse and I left them at airport, as they disappeared back in through the doors, at 5.40pm.

Not a good time to leave, I thought. And all the way to Toorak Road. Wish me luck.

Patti sang with a sad sax and I found myself crying like a baby, as I travelled away from them down the sweeping curves of the freeway, marvelling – if that’s the right word – at the bumper to bumper lanes on the other side of the concrete divide, as a cacophony of cars battled for spaces all around me. The sun was setting as I slid across the Bolte Bridge, with the dying golden rays reflected in the huge glass panels of the city skyscape.

I stood in the front yard on my own, at 7.20 and watched for blinking lights above the sky out over Tullamarine and wished them goodbye and wished them safe journey back to me – in the faded light, as the stars blinked at me in the milk-grey sky.

I came home and farted about a bit. Tom called to see if I wanted to go to the Laird with him and Keith, but I didn’t feel like it. He could sense that I was feeling a little sad around the edges.

He was coming home here to stay for the night.

I got up at 6am for a piss and Tom still wasn’t home.

Apparently, he went to the Laird and Shane and Mark W. were there, crystalled off their cha chas, with some friend from Sydney named Laurence. Shane tried to sell Tom some dope, apparently to fund their crystal binge. Apparently, their dope plant came into harvest. Tom took Laurence instead and entertained him at 80 until daybreak, instead.

One Stumble Does Not End The Journey

Hope you have a great one Christian...

"No smoking"

xTom

No smoking thus far.

Didn't even smoke in front of M and L last night, although I did feel somewhat deceitful about that. Never the less, I didn't even want one, so it's all negated anyways.

You have a lovely day too.

christian

Yay for you!

One stumble does not end the journey!

Looking at doing my placement for social work at Vic AIDS council...

xTom

I've had two, thus far.

christian

I'll be writing over Easter, you can be assured of that, even if it kills me, which at the moment, it feels like it will. Blood from a stone, mate. Blood from a stone. But I've organised for dinner with me best writing mate Kym, next Wednesday and I have promised her stories, so now I gotta produce them. It's funny how my modes operandi is to promise things so as to force myself to produce. It's something I've realised lately that I do, to stop my natural laziness.

I'm bike riding over the chocolate festival instead of eating eggs. Four mornings of peddly-treddly around the bike tracks, over to my mum's for breakky and then back home. It did so lighten her sorry tone when I suggested it. Me poor old mum, she used to be such an independent lassie and now the neediness in her voice is palpable. It does fair break my heart, sometimes.

And now that I have said I will, I supposed I have got too. But it's a good thing, kind of locking me in, so as not to let my natural procrastinating, hermit-like propensity get the better of me.

I've got to shed these extra pesky kilos, forthwith. I was so slim and gorgeous – not in an egotistical way, you understand – when I was in Sydney last year, eating just food with dirt still stuck to it and jogging three times a week. But how does one replace the harbour for inspiration in ye olde worldie Melbourne, I ask you?

Four mornings in a row on the bike is going to test me sweet little arse, the legs usually manage okay. I’ll be shrieking like a virgin girl her first time that fourth morning the seat goes up my crack.

I just can't kick this wretched smoking habit. I'd quit for 10 days, count them, one two... and so on and so forth and I all I could feel was a constant gnawing at me guts, as it expanded by a few kilos to fill my pants. (And not in a good way, let me tell you) And me myself have been building up to pounding the footpath because of it. I used to love jogging, nothing quite beats that both-feet-off-the-ground feeling of freedom that it gives you. Skimming along in mid air, wind in your hair, stroke, stroke, stroke. Nothing can beat me now! Ha, ha! I am the king of the world! Although, I haven't done it yet, you understand.

That is not exactly true, actually. I did jog last weekend up at Bolago, first time for in a year and I felt 102 years old as I pant, panted along. But the gum trees were beautiful and only one recalcitrant Wallaby snickered.

M and L fly in to Hamburg this weekend, then Berlin, Amsterdam, London, Eurostar to Paris then it's off to God's own country and the remaining weeks in Italy.

It's funny that I feel somewhat free to do as I please with them out of the country, which makes no sense at all, I'll grant you, all at the same time feeling as though I'll miss them terribly, but there you go.

Time just for me... I don't mean that in a nasty desperate sense at all, just a whimsical thought, me here all alone in this big country without them. Does that make any sense?

I do have a half Italian/half Australia, cute as a button, boy who is just begging to be stooped vigorously. Jamie T. I've never known a bad Jamie, panting around the edges. But Manny now says that he'd be upset if I roved, despite him having a rather odd relationship happening concurrently with Glen. (and Manny and I have never being monogamous)

So I shan't be visiting with Jamie of the delectable arse... well, I don't think I will. Or the 20 year old Lebo boy, who goes by the handle of Wog Nuts on the internet, who also wants to come and visit. Maybe late one night, when nobody could possibly know. Is that bad?

Actually, I still feel quite loyal to Manny, so probably I wont. Although, it is tempting. Wog Nuts, or Johnny as he's really called (And I've never known a bad Johnny) also has those favourite words in his profile, large and uncut. Slobber, pant!

But as Manny is now panting for it, perhaps I should be off. It always falls upon me to get us together for conjugal visits.

And, of course, when Manny is in my arms there is no one else I ever want to be with. 

First, I should put my all good thoughts into action and go jogging for an hour. Sometimes I've just got to clear my head and move forward without another thought creeping in to stop me. Blind action, I think that's what I'm going to call it.

Tom was on Gaydar, yet again, so I sent him this message.

“Get off here miss and write something, for goodness sake.”

And then I got off, hit and run, so to speak.

I went to Manny’s

When I got back Tom had left me this message, in return.

“I’ve already written and sent my placement proposal to VAC thanks very much for your concern missy! Why don’t you follow your own advice!! “

So I sent him this message in return.

“A little snippy, what? If you noticed, I did follow my own advice.”

I’ve just spoken to Luke, he’s packing for tomorrow.

Now I’m going to iron a shirt and go to bed.

Manny's Got a Cold and I feel Fat and Spotty and Off-kilter

Morning Miss,

How are you this lovely day?

Hope yr enjoying that salad!

Any plans for Easter at this stage?

xTom

The salad? Bugger! I looked at it a few times last night and thought I should eat it.

But I got so depressed last night. I remember that was what happened at the two week mark last time I gave up smoking. Last night, I felt fat and spotty and off-kilter, as I have since I stopped smoking... I just want to feel normal again. Of course, I met up with twif at the wedding after party, Sunday night, as I gazed into Stevens eyes... and it's sad to say, but true, I went to the shop and bought some cigarettes and after four I felt normal again, as I watched Q.A.F.

I don't suppose you watched, This is your Life sports heroes special? And happened to see Lou Richard's mother. That cheered me up and gave me a good laugh – I tried to write an email to Jon, since the demanding little minx demanded one, but my thought processes are shattered at the moment, so I watched teev instead.

Over Easter, I'm going to lock myself away and start and complete, I wish, get hugely through my two major assignments. And I'm going to write my short stories and I'm gonna "do" the Greek boy.

No chocolate, though!

christian

Let me know if there's bed moving action happening

see ya

Tom

No, that's the week after Easter. Actually, the week after that. 19/04 to 23/04

christian

My boy Manny has a bad snuffed up nose. Sniff, sniff, sniff, he went as I talked to him last night.

He says he has never had the flu before in his life. How's that?

christian

He’s got a Greek memory remember

Tom

Well, hello

He came and had lunch with me. Well, I ate, he watched.

christian

the poor love...

cant be that sick tho, if he can come into town...

email for u at home

Tom ☺

In his jumbo cords.

Big smile

christian

That bed shifting weekend then is the weekend after the next one? My sister is getting married on the Friday, but I could help on the Saturday...

Did you have a good day?

I did. Did another of those videotaped counselling sessions my social work dept seems to love so much, and also learned all about the 70 day placements we are to do next semester.

I hope I get a good one!

xTom

I have been busy, although doing what, I cannot say. Every time I look around it's fucking Friday. Zip, whoosh, splat. And the weekend is nothing but a grinch on the ye olde time line. Sat, Sun, what? (Head spin) (And green vomit) (No, never green vomit)

I'm good.

The cats going senile though.

I think I am too.

He's having trouble with constipation. That's the cat and not me. On his last legs, poor babe. But he could be pushing 20, so it's to be expected.

Just by the way...

Big smile... she'll be right, mate!

Big smile, a suntan as wide as the beach is long. Toothy grin, laid back to Freemantle. The wind, the sun, the blue, blue skies and a multi cultural cauldron of ethnic beforeskined cockney'd'esque slang to lean on and hold as dear as mother's childhood sandwiches.

Have a pot, mate. Don't you worry about that. A chance meeting of eyes across the bar. A saunter, a smile and a come hither look. Raised eyebrows, a wink, a nod, and... G'day.

I've given up smoking, how am I feeling, ER! AHHHHHHH! Whimper, whimper. WHEN WILL THIS FEELING EVER STOP? – just fine, doll. Never better. I've locked myself away for the weekend, to keep myself away from smokers and sweeties, chocolates and cakes, etc. I reckon if I get through this first bit without too much food substitution, I should be able to get back to feeling my old self and back to my normal diet, quick as. Snippety snap.

I don't want to turn into a boombah, otherwise I'll start smoking again.

And I can feel it in my chest now a days, it's killing me and I need to stop before it actually does. Five people die each day in Victoria from lung cancer. And let's face it, I've already given it a huge fucking nudge thus far. It's time for what I put in my body to equal the purity of my thoughts. (Oh, ah, I'm a gonna die if I settle for that bench mark) Fresh as mountain spring water, just the pure droplets of fresh dew entering my mouth, we'll worry about the thoughts later.

Living alone is grand, although I've got constant mortgage worries. (Oh, you know, not really, I just like to whine) I don't know, I should just shut up. I like living on my own. But having said that, I have a new flatty moving in in a few weeks. A girl named Aby, who is studying at the VCA, movie making. She wants me and her to collaborate on a film. I write the blessed thing and she sets about making it. But, I'm having a non-believing in myself, writing wise, it's all useless, you never get any where, it's just an illusion, buggery bugger, get back to work and stick at yer real job, ya whacker, moment. Nothing will ever come of this.

Actually, Mark and Luke just called and I'm off out to dinner. 

Some time later.... 

We ate Chinese, out with a couple of successful buddies. Oh, listen to me. We’re all successful, truthfully. I don’t know why I am feeling like the poor cousin at the moment. I guess they just make it look easy. So easy for some, hey. I wish it was easy. Felt easy. Will it ever feel easy? Whatever my easy is? (Would I even get bored if it all was too easy?)

I'm feeling a bit in a rut-like. I don't know. But, I suppose having creative people, er, person around can't hurt, hey?

I keep jumping from one thing to another and none of my writing seems to be amounting to much. I must have a descending moon, or something, at the moment. Why would this story be told? Who would I be telling it to? Original buggery voice. Oh, I don't know. Another cigarette, perhaps?

But my good writing buddy Kym and I had a chat about it and I've decided to go back to basics and write a few short stories and enter a few competitions.

Well, that's the theory anyway.

So there you go. It all seems hard.

Manny wanted me to go around tonight to do dirty things to him, he had his sexy voice on when he called, but I said no siree Bob, not with your excess mucus. I know enough not to get a boy with a cold going down on my cock. Oo, a spittoon, for sure. But other than that, he's good. Still a sexy boy. I feel such a physical connection with him, even if I don't feel a mental one. But is that just wanting the perfect boy. Do we ever get that? Or is that just pie in the sky stuff? I don't know. Do we ever get the whole package, or is that just what happens in movies?

Mark and Luke leave for London/Amsterdam/Paris/Rome on Thursday and being the good er... whatever I am, I'm driving them to the airport. People have questioned me about why I'm not going and really, I can't afford it. Don't know why I'm perpetually broke all the time, but I am. They'll be gone for eight weeks, so I'm planning to get myself in to some sort of routine during that time. I'm going to go jogging and ride my bike on the weekends and stop smoking and be fit and gorgeous. I'm going to get some writing done and... go out and have fun.

I haven't seen G at all. He's been doing real-estate things and changing jobs and I've been kind of avoiding him because of my non-dope smoking thing. But I must go and see him over Easter, if he's about. Get him to pull his fat cock out of them bitches long enough. [his words, not mine]

I'm going to take a week off after Easter to sand and polish my floors. Finally. I figured now is the time, now that I'm here alone. I can easily move every thing off the second floor... and it can't be that hard, surely. I kind of feel a little defeated before I start, if I think too much about it. But its just a matter of hiring a sander and whipping over them old boards with it and then slopping some sealer type stuff. How hard can it be? I'm good at those kinds of things when I get going. Me old dad taught me lots of that stuff, which kind of surprise people...but really, I'm talking about queens with screw drivers, so I'm way above that bench mark.

I retrieved my Aretha Franklin box set from Bolago, so musically I'm sorted.

I might even get some pot for Easter, instead of chocolate eggs. Of course, my dealer has packed it in, which could be a little awkward, but if I can't find a dope dealer in Fitzroy, there must be something wrong.

I better get me self to the iron, in readiness for the salt mines tomorrow. Iron shirt, wash shirt. Smile at them worker ants as I scurry to the working burrow, with them. It's sad to think that they all take it so seriously, think they are actually doing something important. Funny the old working week, when you think about it. Think of all that beauty that we all miss in the pursuit of earning a buck. But those young lawyers in suits, now there's some beauty.

Smiling all the way...

And the friends who got married on Sunday. I hear it was fun and games after I left. Unbelievable. Apparently, Rob completely lost it at Loli. He was really drunk and asked Loli for an annulment. It was really bad, say all those who were still there.

Wogs are nothing if not dramatic.

And they sorted it out.

Dreaming

I was on the train to southern Tasmania. It was the Creutzfeldt-Jacob Express. It was maroon with a huge emblem in white outline on the side of the engine. I was travelling with a blonde guy, i think he was my boyfriend, certainly mate. I'm not sure. We went back into the carriage and collected all the stuff left behind. I had a black hat, he had a light coloured one. I had a black leather jacket, he had a maroon one.

It was lush and green all around the station. There was a gentle ease in the air as we sauntered up the country station platform, with our bags slung over our shoulders. He chewed an ear of corn, I chattered about what we were going to see as we sight-seed

 

I WANT A CIGARETTE!!!!

I want to feel normal again. I can't concentrate. I can't decided on one thing. Everything is a sea. I can't even get an email written. It's all blotchy staring at the screen. (See above.)

I'm going to the shop to get cigarettes.

Oh bugger! I'm all a twitter.

I smoked pot last night, I reckon that's the cause of this present nicotine urge. I went to a friends wedding. We went back to the bride and grooms place afterwards. They took drugs and I left - had to go to work - and it all ended in tears, but that's another story.

I'm getting fat again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hate this! CIGARETTES ARE EVIL!

I want to continue to sleep my lovely restful, light sleep.

AH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm feeling depressed... and if I remember rightly, that's what happen at the 2 week mark last time I gave up. Feeling blur, emotionally. I've got a body rash, apparently I ate something I was allergic to. Although, I questioned the doctor, as I've never been allergic to anything. Red spots all over my (beautiful) white skin. Or it could be syphilis. I DON'T think so. And I've gained a few kilos, despite being very careful with my diet. Bugger. Fat and white and spotty?

and ........................................................... (just been to the shops) big inhale!

One cigarette – okay two – and I feel normal again. It's just not fair.

Write Me an Email

This is no big hello. This is a Kim "Aw, He-LLoh!"

Listen you viperous low-bellied snake. You write to me a bloody email, buster, or I'll come over there and break your bollocky legs, matey, one, two, three.

Where's me blessed email?

St Mary, St Mel Gibson and all the Saints,

Blocky (Josh Gale)

(Josh)

Yes, yes. I'm right on it. Kinda. Sorta.

Big smile.

Stay tuned to this space.

christian 

Coffee and Brawn

SMS. 11.03. Come 2 Toorak and have coffee – Rachel

Rachel and I love a good cake and coffee. We travelled the world sampling the cakes and coffee and ice cream too.

In Amsterdam, what do you think we did? Yep, we hung out at the coffee shops, drinking coffee and eating cake.

SMS. 19.50. Watch the footy it’s fucking hot! Lots of Biffo – Tom

Tom likes a strong, tough man. No girlie types for him, no sire. What did he say once,

"I practically can't cum unless the guy smacks me a couple of times."

Are that Tom... what a scamp.

The Bitch Gave Me Scabies

Dad's birthday, he'd have been 73.

SMS. 8.32. Miss! That filthy Greg has given you scabies! – Tom

Mornin'

Tiny red spots make me think of only one thing, Christian. Scabies!

xTom

Mornin

Nah, it's like a rash... a thousand tiny pin pricks. It's patchy, but in the patches where it is, it's intense. As long as I don't touch it, it is not itchy.

It can't be a reaction to stopping smoking, surely?

The only other thing I can think that has changed is my flu shot. But that was 10 days ago.

So, I don't know.

I'm more concerned about the pot stomach I've developed, which I've discovered since I've discovered the rash.

Boo bloody hoo

christian

Sit ups!

30 a day!!

To match your pushups!

I'm going to Throb with D, might see you in the morning?

Will call you later anyway, after my few hours nap which I'm starting now.

See ya ☺

Tom 

I've Given Up Smoking... 9 days

I've given up smoking... 9 days. Pretty good huh?

Not stressed at all. Big smile.

I have abused the fruit and veg guy in Safeway for being out of lemons. I mean to say what a fucken cheek!

And Monday night, I tried to get a huntsman spider, that wandered past my runners, onto my umbrella tip to pop him outside, completely unsuccessfully. And the next thing I knew, I had dropped the umbrella and was beating it to a pulp with a shoe, almost spontaneously.

But other than that.........

But, I have been working on short stories. Resuming work on old ones... not too many new ones, oh, a couple. I'm reworking "James Dean" for... work, travel, commute - rush... the uni short story competition.

Boys Boys Boys

Manny met me after work and we walked up Bourke Street together to the train at parliament.

"Why haven’t you called me?" he said.

Really? Are you serious? "Because you were doing Glen things," I said.

"So why does that stop you?" he said.

My guy declares he is going to see another guy and he asks why that my make me less enthusiastic? "Why do you think?" I said. "And you were doing Glen things weren’t you?"

"Yes," he said.

A shiver ran up my spine.

"We could still see each other."

"No, not if you are seeing Glen."

"He wouldn't have to know."

I shrugged. "You made your choice."

Luke was at home when I got there. Mark had gone to the kinesiologist. Some eye cornea, mumbo jumbo. He came home soon after. They went to Loli’s for dinner.

I went to Stella’s for dinner, with Beck and Adam, of course. Adam’s so cute. Is it wrong to perve on your straight girlfriend's cute husbands?

The littlest man, Patrick, was in bed asleep.

The house is very nice, right at the end of the Williamstown point.

Hospitals and Hot Date

Hi Christian,

Just taken Mum to the hospital – she's having an Addison's crisis, and hasn't told anyone that she's been feeling bad all day. I drove 'em to the H so that dad didn't have to – he worries so.

Anyway they are keeping her in overnight and have put her on a drip with what she needs so she should be fine.

Can I stay at yr place tonight, like last week?

xTom

What on earth is an Addison's crisis? I hope it's not serious. It sounds like some virulent, brightly coloured flowering plant that runs amuck over hills and fields. Tell her I send her all my best wishes.

Um, tonight I was planning a small rendezvous, time to move on and all that, so I'd actually like the house to myself. I hear Greeks are so last week.

Big smile

christian

Hey Christian,

Ok no worries I hope you have a good one, in that

1: he turns up

2: he looks like his pic

3: he's good in the sack

I'm assuming it's an online thing – please correct me if I'm wrong.

Addisons is a disease around cortisol/hydrocortisone regulation, your body needs to keep the two in balance to perform about 150 normal functions, and Mum's doesn’t do that.

So she takes pills (usually 37.5mg a day) to help her, but yesterday she took 275mg (!!) and still felt bad. What is it with people – almost ten times her normal dose and she's says nothing till almost midnight!) I actually asked her yesterday if she thought she should go to the doctor and she bit my head off (apparently another symptom, short tempered-ness, I should have brooked no dissent at that point).

I was glad I was there because dad gets so scared – he was shaking and when Mum went into the bathroom to see if she needed to be sick last night, he sort of hunched over and let out little gasps. When I asked him how he was doing he straightened up and growled FINE through gritted teeth, but truly, by the time we got to emergency, he was ready to punch out someone before we had even seen the triage nurse (which took 2minutes tops).

Did I tell you the last time they had to go to Emergency, Dad was almost ejected by security for freaking out and "becoming violent"? Oh, we are a cultured bunch, we de Brants.

Anyway, she's been admitted now to find out what's going on – these things are usually brought on by some unrelated infection/problem – a bit like your T cells going down when you have an active infection. So she'll be in for a couple of days they reckon.

I was only planning on doing the Trivia thing tonight – maybe a quickie with Phil in the dunny or something as well – but somehow would rather stay at home tonight anyways.

I quite love how you don’t have to beat round bushed with me – I'll never be afraid to ask if I know that your answer can include a NO ☺

I *do* hope you have a lovely night you naughty thing. It's complete and utter revenge, I know, but good revenge nonetheless – as you said, you SHOULD just do the deed and tell him about it, and let it go from there. Of course, I'm assuming that you still haven't heard from him and that he hasn't been offed in a road trauma.

You have a good day Miss.

I'm off to RMIT soon to film a counselling roleplay. The blokey Richard and I are doing it – for me he's playing a bi man in a stable and truthful relationship with a woman, with kids too, who's just received a poz diagnosis after a rather wild holiday, and for him I'm a homeless schizophrenic in croydon in for a counselling/goal setting sesh. I'm not really in the mood, but hey, time and work stop for no man, woman or family drama.

xTom

PS hahaha @ essendon btw

I hope your mum's back on her feet real soon. Freddy going troppo in emergency doesn't bare thinking about. I suppose you are your father's son, after all. There has to be, even a hint, of that streak in him for you to have got it, I suppose.

As far as the 10 times the does, I never understand that. I've never understood the fear of doctors... Surely the fear of something being majorly wrong must be less frightening than the consequences of not doing something about it straight away and giving it your best shot to over come what ever it may be. Surely the worst diagnosis is better than the regret of not acting.

You are right, I haven't heard from Manny. He was moving house, now I think of it, but he only had to move a chair and a TV a block down the road, so I'm not paying that much credence.

If I want to be free and no strings attached, I should jolly well act that way. After all, perceptions are 9/10s of the game. Hey?

Christian

The no smoking thing was really hard last night. My body was kicking up big time in the craving department.

It's pretty full on... it hasn't got much easier, as yet. I thought it would have eased by now, but not really. I was watching purple spiders climbing the walls and green turtles hanging from their shells from the ceiling. And silver blue butterfly's flying in my peripheral vision, if I I'm wasn't concentrating.

Actually, seriously. I just got home last night and I was hungry, tired and busting to go to the toilet, when a huntsman ran across the kitchen bench and onto the floor in front of the fridge. I tried and tried and tried to pick it up with my umbrella, to pop it outside. I chased it around the kitchen for at least 5 minutes, but it just would not get onto the plastic tip of my brolly. It ran out into the atrium and next to my runners... and the next thing I knew, I had picked up a runner and was beating it to a pulp on the tiled floor.

I'm not edgy doll. I deny it, absolutely.

And my mind plays tricks on me. Ten minutes till the meeting, I'll just dash out for a cig. Oh, 5 minutes till class, I'll just have a cig. Half an hour till the movie starts, I've got time for a cig. I'd finished my dinner last night and I found myself leaning over to the coffee table for my cigarettes. Er!

Keep going Chriso, I believe in you!

Mum is staying in for a couple of days for 'tests'...

Dad's the one with the temper, I'm COMPLETELY sane and mild compared to him!

And YES, perception IS 9/10ths of reality – be single if that’s what you want.

xTom

PS Manny only owns a chair and a TV??

I farted around and did nothing.

I should have gone running, as I can feel a slight expansion happening - could that be abbreviated into ASEH and said in a voice-over advertisement voice? - around my middle, thank you Mr Nicotine. I probably only have to jog twice a week.

I ironed some shirts.

Hot date, hope it was good miss

Tom

 

The Little Red Man

Gisborne Street and Albert Street. Morning. Peak hour.

A pedestrian runs across the lights as the little man turns red. A car turning right continues to make it's turn despite the pedestrian. It turns slightly wider to miss the man.

"You stupid bitch," yells the man and he swings his brief case which hits the back panel of the car.

The woman driver pulls over and gets out of her car to inspect it. There is a dent in the panel work.

The pedestrian walks along the footpath toward her.

"I want your name and phone number."

"I want you to obey the road laws, but as we've just witnessed you don't always get want you want." He says dismissively as he continues past her car.

She runs around the front of her can and grabs him by the arm.

"I want your name. My car is damaged."

"Listen here rat-face, if you don't let go of my arm I will have you charged with assault."

She lets go.

"You were walking against the red man."

"I suggest you read up on your road laws."

"You have wilfully damaged my car."

"It was self-defence, you tried to run me down."

"I'm calling the police."

"Go for your life." He turns to walk away."

"I want your name..."

"You can whistle Dixie. And you'll be lucky if you're not charged with dangerous driving. I may report you..."

"I'm not giving you my name."

He looks at the front number plate. "SMK 001."

"It's not my car."

The pedestrian steps toward her. "You know something, that's the wonderful thing about the twenty first century. Self-centred, selfish and who gives a damn about the next bloke, mate. If in fact that is true, which I doubt, all I have to do is threaten the driver with dangerous driving charges and he'll whistle like a bird."

"It's my husband's car."

"Jesus, well that could prove hard to trace."

 

I Don't Think I'm Ready To Go Out Into Smoky Public Places, Just Yet

6.30am

I wake up early, now. Although, my absolutely lovely, light as a feather, sleep seemed to last for only a day, my sleep is quite lovely. I do wake up quite refreshed. And early too.

Day light savings has finished, so the advantage of waking up early to see the glorious cloudy red sunrise, be it between two buildings, has been taken from me.

I’ve given up smoking for 6 days. It’s good, I don’t think I’ve got cancer any more. Consistently. Nearly as often as I’d have a cigarette. If for no other reason, I had to stop because of that.

But the mind does play tricks. We’d finished dinner and had ½ an hour to the movies. I’ve just got time for a cigarette. We’re having a coffee afterwards, Hm, time for a cigarette.

Mornin'

Hope this email finds you not too wet, and enjoying the gentle, mulch making drizzle that is refreshing and watering our fair city ☺

How was your movie Miss?

Was it fantabulous?

My date was really nice. He's a sweet guy, funny, intelligent, and a go-er in the sack as well.

He'll get another go.

Are you interested in laird trivia tomorrow night?

xTom

Mornin

I'm up early these days, 6.15am this morning. Although, the end of daylight savings has taken my beautiful sunrises away.

I thought of you this morning, as I stood under the back veranda and gazed at the rain, as I ate my muesli.

It has to rain to turn leaves to mulch, you said. It will rain eventually, I said. Is that powers for good, I thought.

The movie was woefully bad. Illogical. Awful. Oh dear.

Good to hear about the date. He seemed nice.

I know this sounds pathetic, but I don't think I'm ready to go out into smoky public places, just yet. But I do want to go, it sounds like fun, maybe next week.

christian

Of course it doesn't sound pathetic Miss.

I fully understand not wanting to be in smoky bars.

I thought of you too when I arose to the gentle sound of rain, you and your leaves were the first things on my mind ☺

And yes, Phil is nice. Quite "chunky" – but those arms and shoulders! OMG!

dog sound!

xT

WOOF WOOF

Tom

It can only be a good thing if it gets your tail wagging.

And I don't think it is offensive. In fact quite the opposite.

If he gets you bright-eyed and bushy tail and baying at the moon, he should be well pleased with that.

As well you should be.

christian

You know, I haven't heard from Manny since Friday. I just know he has spent time with Glen and has reverted. He'll be off having a thing with Glen today.

And you know what? I'm over it. Not in a big and scary way, but the candle within is wavering in the wind of illogical uncertainty.

Time to quietly move on.

christian

SMS. Phew! Glad 2 hear yr not smoking! Tell me if yr free 2morrow. I am still wanting some indian food – Rachel

Time to find someone who is nice, funny, smart and who gives to me. Someone who has stuff to inspire me with. Someone who makes me go "oh, okay. That's interesting."

Someone who gives me more than illogical bottom-feeder pyscho dramas. – Although, that could be said to be unfair, as Manny is trying to extract himself from a very difficult situation. {although, he did get himself into it in the first place} The full details of which I have never told anybody. The money, the gambling, the stand over men, the criminals, the jobs... the hitmen. The black market crime.

Using Glen for his money deliberately, is not the answer. It's a very imperfect answer to a very imperfect situation. And if it I could be said to be the only bright spark on Manny's horizon... and it could be said that I could show him good and normal things, if he could only extract himself from this quagmire... I'm his prince and path to normalcy... I'm getting over it. I'm approaching the end of my interest in all of this. I want a simple, happy life.

Don't fret now, but ask him what he's been doing when he does emerge...

Take it from there... I know that you *do* love him, btw ☺

xT

I hope your day went well Christian.

Can i stay at yr place again tomorrow night?

xT

23.15

The whole cigarette thing is a battle, tonight.

I wish I’d feel normal again. I wish that constant, unrelenting, mind tripping feeling would go away.

I don’t want to feel this way any more. How cocky was I, you feel better after 3 days, practically back to normal in 5. Jesus!

No joints, no nicotine. This is only the second time I have given up nicotine completely. Last time was the last time and I got so depressed after 2 weeks I deliberately came home and started smoking again.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Sleeping Away Addictions

Tom went out with Phill.

I slept. Sleeping is good because of the nicotine withdrawal thing.

Mark and Luke arrived.

We went to see 50FirstDates, me, Mark, Luke and Aby. It was illogical. And, I mean, Drew Barrymore? She sounds like Sylvester the Cat.

Josh Gale called just before I went to bed. 

Day 4

Tom
Miss. Good morning. How are you?
Day 4 of quitting smoking. I have to lock myself away from temptation for the weekend. I have to stay away from Bolago because of the sweeties that can be found there. I have to stay away from G, who called to say he had pot last night. I have to stick to my diet and not slide into any food substitution thing.
I think I'm going to go pump up the tyres on my bike and go for a ride.
This is a very intense, unrelenting feeling. You want it to stop, but it’s like being on one of those adrenaline pumping rides at the show. You have to sit on the edge and hang on, you have to ride it out, it won’t be over until it’s over, no matter how much you wish, you have to endure it to it’s bone rattling conclusion.
I've kind of tricked myself into liking the feeling. It actually feels like I'm tripping - it's the same body hums as that.
Unlike tripping, I'd like it to stop now.
christian


OK miss breath deep...
Hey, I was planning on coming over round 6 to go to the footy, and coming back with Glenn before taking him off to the laird...
Was also planning at staying in yr house tonight...
Would you prefer that I didn't?
xTom


All of that would be just fine. Come stay, I'm not that precious.
I don't have to wrap myself in cotton wool, or anything.
But you will understand if you have to go outside to smoke, hey.
christian


Thanks Christian.
I'm very happy to smoke outside, do it all the time in Ding.
See you round 6ish...
Mayhap you would like to come to the Laird with Glenn W. and I round 10.30?
Tom


Yeah, I might come to the Laird. Maybe. See how I feel. I'm feeling a little stressed and it maybe too soon to go into a smoky environment. I'll see. It'll be over in a week, certainly by next weekend.
I'm going to take myself off for a bike ride now. Exercise is the one thing that takes the gnawing feeling away.
Check out “Wog Nuts.” Twenty-year-old wog boy who wants me up his arse. It's tempting... but 20?
christian


Yes 20yrs old, but very tasty indeed!
Ride away Miss, fresh air is good, I hear ☺
Tom


SMS. Hey Jamie, that phone number you gave me yesterday got me through to Lorna at meals on wheels – christian

Tom stayed the night. He went to the football with Glenn W. and then to the Laird.

I went and had hot, furious sex with PJ. Straight to his room, tearing each other's cloths off, on his bed on him, cuming all over each other, pulling my clothes back on over the sweat and cum on my body so much so that they stuck to me, and then leaving before he could even light a cigarette. Out the door, feeling like a classy whore. Nobody would ever know that my knickers were sticking to me. 

I went to bed at midnight.

Day 3 of quitting smoking

As I got into my office today, my phone beeped a message. It was James T. He said he was just waking up as he left his phone number. I imagined him stretching in bed the sheets just covering his naked body. The phone number got me through to Lorna at Meals on Wheels, when I called him back.
Maybe a little more waking up would have been in order, Jamie, rather than staring down at your hardon.
I should be perusing a relationship with him – I don’t mean boyfriends necessarily, but some kind of relationship. He's cute and smart and funny and a horny little bottom. And I don't seem to have his mobile number. Bugger!


Lovely, lovely Friday.
My head is still spinning and my cells are still screaming from all this non-smoking nonsense. I feel semi smashed, out of it, p*ssed, zonked, whatever... withdrawal, it can be a bitch.
However, it's just better not to think about it.
Dinner last night with my mum, fitting in Manny, quite literally, he, he, in between. He met me after work and I dropped him off at Camberwell train station, after I sponged him down and like the good little boys that we are, we both headed off and visited our mum's... say hello to her for me and all that.
I'm on my own today, Beck's gone to Mauldon. So, I think a little home work is in order. Perhaps my study journal.
I had the lovely James T. call and leave me a message this morning. He said he was lying back in bed waking up as he left his phone number. (The mental picture I had was...: p) His phone number was wrong, when I called back. Bugger. There is some curse when it comes to James and me and phone numbers.
Anyway, I hope this finds you well.
I have really warm feet and slightly wonky eyesight, so there you go
christian


Day 3 of giving up. I seem to be coping okay still. I've got it together not to substitute anything for the cigarettes. I've have stuck so far to my regular diet. No excessive coffees, no muffins, no cakes to fill in the gaps. Just an increase in water and the body woozes. My body is still buzzing, my eyesight is still affected, kind of slightly fuzzy. I feel kind of stoned in my body, so, as you can understand, I can kind of do a mental mind flip so as to enjoy it, kind of, close enough, after a fashion, just to get through it.
No bad, even if I do say so myself. Every cell in my body is still going what the! I'm kind of semi sea-sick or motion sickness effected. Vaseline gauze over my eyes and tired, a nicotine withdrawal kind of tiredness, that bit I can feel.
I have to take the diet very seriously, otherwise I'll take it up again when I get fat. And I don't mind so much taking it up again as I do mind getting fat.
I think there is going to be a few early nights over the next few days. And a bit of the hermit act, so as not to be tempted by any sweeties – that's sugary calorie type sweeties and not the XY type, you understand.
I think braking out the bike may even be in order for a wee ride. 31 degrees Sunday.

This is a very intense, unrelenting feeling. You want it to stop, but it’s like being on one of those adrenaline pumping rides at the show. You have to sit on the edge and hang on, you have to ride it out, it won’t be over until it’s over, no matter how much you wish, you have to endure it to it’s bone rattling conclusion.
I decided to stay home, lock myself away from everyone and just get through the next few days. One week and I’ll start to feel better. One week and I’m detoxed. I have to keep away from temptation, food temptation. I have to stick to a strict diet and not replace cigarettes with any sort of food, which so far I haven’t. I realise that in the past I’ve allowed myself to eat whatever I like as a reward for stopping smoking, which is precisely the wrong way to go. I have to be on an even stricter diet now, at least for the first week. At least until next Wednesday, or until the gnawing, body groaning, stops.
And this is giving up all smoking, nothing, niente. No supplementary joints to tide me over. This is no cigarettes, no marijuana. This is no smoking at all.

I lay on the couch and drank my soup and ate prunes and watched television. G called to see if I could get any pot. His phone cut out just after I told him that Perry and Wesley don’t sell it any more. He didn’t call back.

SMS. 21.05. Miss? What of you? – Tom

I fell asleep for a while and woke up with the house in darkness, not one light on. I quite like it like that. That intimate feeling of just the television lighting the world, late into the night.
I watched some Michael Douglas movie called “The Game.” It was interesting, despite having huge holes in the story line, which you could have driven his 7 series BMW through.

SMS. 24.00. (Tom) I’m doing really putrid farts – christian