Zeroed Out - August 05 2002

06.04 am I am up early. I dont want to sleep. I just keep having bad
dreams and I have been crying for the last half an hour. Yesterday (04)
I was happy, today I am sad, I feel like there is little point in
anything. In one of my dreams my wife had been seeing someone else for
ages, in a physical relationship. Me, well, I haven't had a physical
relationship with anyone for so long I cannot even remember the last
time I french kissed someone or whatever. But you wouldn't be
interested. Cause I am everybody's friend, you see. I wandered round
screaming for a long time in my dream. There was nobody there. Nobody
to tell me, "I love you", nobody to hold me close and tell me how much
they love me. Cause I am everybody's friend, you see. I right wrongs
and battle injustice, and help fix things that have broken. But I
wonder does anyone want to fix me, in my fucked up emotional state.
Life goes on, and endless stream of cigarettes and wondering if
tomorrow will be better than yesterday, or the same as yesterday, and
maybe once in a while something will happen that is wonderful.

Yesterday (04) I got up at 9am and fed the cats, and of course they all
wanted to different food so I had to move the bowls round in the
Pattern. Then I went on line and wrote my online journal. and a while
after that I had a bath, and went over to my Mum and Dad's and fed
their cat too. I rang Erin but the phone was off. I drove into Southend
and bought a ticket to see Spiderman, then I went in Mama Amalfis where
I had a latte, and messaged Erin, and she messaged me back, and I went
in to see the film, and it was brilliant, I could escape into it for a
while. It had a sad ending, in that the girl had fallen in love with
him but Spidey could only be her friend. That was all he could
give.

I went outside and rang Erin, and she was there. And we talked for a
long time, and it started to rain, and while I was standing outside
Smiths I told her "I love you". It was something I had wanted to say
for a long time. And she didnt freak, leastways I hope not. Because I
do love her, I am simple like that, I think of dreams and I was soaring
like a bird for a while, winging in flight; or like a small child that
has got the best present they ever wanted. Sometimes I am so alone, and
just for a short while I can be together with someone I think the world
of. I fell in love with them some weeks ago. Even before I had seen
their picture.

I drove home and then it started to piss down and my wife and I drove
to our friends through it all, along with the spare pc I had sorted out
to replace the one they had before.

The rain had stopped when we got there, and a little while later I was
sorting out the PC and so forth, and I mentioned Erin to my mate. And
he asked me does my wife know, and I said yes she does. I thought for a
bit, and then said that there had been this quiz when you had to put in
the last time you had got it together, like yesterday, last week, last
month in terms of days, and I put in 1200 days. A little later my wife
and I drove to Southend and went and saw Goldmember, which was funny in
parts but not that good a film, like they had run out of ideas and
stuff.

We drove home, I fed my Mum and Dad's cat and then I went online and
talked with Erin for most of the evening. I told her I love them again,
because I was still surfing. I wonder if we know, ever know, when
exactly is the right time, but it seemed right, just before the
rain.

And now, I am not crying, because the simple act of writing this entry
has caused me to stop. At least for the while. Is life just a bad
dream, with good moments and bad moments and the rest of the time going
from day to day in the hope that each day will be better than
yesterday? I don't know. I like to think there is a purpose to
everything under heaven, like what they sing. Why I am here? What I am
I supposed to be doing? Bugger, now I'm crying again. Its not helping.
I try smiling at that, because it is fucking ironic. Thank god I only
have another week of work and then I can try to throw away all the
baggage I have accumulated, and maybe go off and live in a tent or a
dormobile. Shit now i have just lit another cigarette and there is one
already alight, I do this more and more , maybe my short term memory
has gone, or maybe I just forget.

Do we know how important it is to have physical contact with the ones
we love? My wife and I we are like friends. But that's it, I am
everybody's friend, you see. I dont talk about me, because I am not
that important. They are special, they matter. But inside I wonder.
Life is never that simple, it is just something that happens to us, and
we try to make the best of what we have.

The new leather jacket I have and the black combat pants and the boots,
well all I need is the mask and I am a superhero, running about
righting wrongs, trying to sort out relationships, but unable to fix my
own. I suppose that's why I liked Spiderman, at least he had a purpose.
What's mine? What am I here to do? It's certainly not to wake up crying
thats for sure.

I wish I could play guitar properly and write decent songs and maybe be
confident to play gigs and be a rich rock star, yeah right. I am 40 in
two months and what then? What new exciting vistas await me? Anything?
Anything at all? Instead of being emotionally fucked up.

What is love? Where is love? What must I do to find it again? I write
about love, and offer advice on how maybe others can make it better.
But I am screwed up inside. I still soar like a bird and I am high
above the city looking down below at the people scurrying to work, and
I am one of them, day in day out, doing the same thing everyday. Maybe
I should take my sword of light and destroy these demons that have
plagued me, still plague me.

I try to dream of Erin, and I am sure I do, except I don't know it.
Maybe one time I will go lucid and I will be able to talk to them for a
long time. Last night, I was lying there, trying to fall asleep, and I
was in reverie and I was in chat, and then I was trying to read what
was being said, because my wife was in chat, and she was talking to a
guy called Jeremy. I dont even know someone called Jeremy, and my name
was mentioned, and the text was on its side like switched 90 degrees to
the vertical. I think I asked who Jeremy was, and she said to me (in my
dream) oh you wouldnt understand. But she seemed to know him very well.
A bit of self analysis. Years ago I wrote a story about a guy called
Jeremy Chandler, when I was 14 I wrote it, and of course Jeremy was me,
because in my stories the narrator is usually me. But he wasnt screwed
up like me. He was a lot stronger. Well maybe I am strong, but
occasionally the demons will get me, those of self doubt, fear,
uncertainty. I ride a motorcycle like one of those huge chopper bikes
and yet, where am I going. Wheeling along the beach that stretches for
ever into the distance, going fast but where do I go? Where am I
heading again I will pull up, throw down the kick stand and climb off
and light a cigarette and see two signs: Nowehere and Boredom, but I am
not bored, am I? I still do things everyday, I still talk people I
meet. I love talking to people and if they are sad I want to help.
Thats one of the things I did (do) when my mates dumped their
girlfriends, and they would bawl their eyes out and I would be there
for them, dressed in black. And people would turn to me, and say help
me, and I would help as I could, or one time when our little group was
torn asunder and I sorted it out. I got everyone back together again.
Because I hate to see others cry. I want them to be happy. I want them
to laugh. Myself, well, I guess maybe I had better hide my love away,
for fear of upsetting people. Hidden deep under my icy shell that I
wear like armour against the world.

Because I am the iceman. Maybe not as cool as wolverine you know, but
just someone that you know.

I used to take time off work to deconstruct myself and rebuild myself,
and maybe shortly I will do this again, but i cannot keep doing this,
at some stage I have to stop. Or I get depressed. Well I have taken
that CD off, and put on a Green Day one instead. And the shell closes
once more, and I cannot worry about things I cannot do anything about.
I let very few people in under my shell. But I let Erin in.