Thursday, 23 June 2016


I've emptied my head whilst I've been here.
And that's the best thing I could have done.

It's made me a little calmer.
At peace.
At peace with what has, will and is happening.

I'm humbled. And that's the most I could have asked for.

Wednesday, 22 June 2016


Yesterday I didn't:

/ buy wine - I bought beer
/ find a bottle opener - I used a knife
/ eat the fruit I picked up
/ type up everything I said I would

Tuesday, 21 June 2016


Today I will:

/ buy wine
/ find a bottle opener
/ pick up some fruit
/ and finally type up all my thoughts

Thursday, 16 June 2016


It wasn't that their conversation lacked intelligence,
it was just easier
to talk about the habits of pigeons
than why she was crying.

Monday, 13 June 2016


It was quite the marvel really.
These three kids, they'd been here all morning.

Riding down the hill.
Running back up.

They passed at least twenty benches on the way down, along with the expected scoffs from the older generation and the occasional pretty woman.

That was what stumped 'em.

When they caught the eye of a particularly attractive blonde. 
All three hit the pavement and their skateboards flew far.

I imagine that's what love feels like.
Like you're plummeting in to hardest concrete and everything you were sure of flies out of reach.

Sunday, 12 June 2016


And she had this habit of ordering a coffee then fidgeting with her stuff until arrived.
As though that tiny espresso was her centre of gravity.

She was bizarre in that way, right up until noon.

Of course she smoked, as her mother did.
And each one always lasted a little longer than she liked.

She kept her ashtray neat. All the ash had to stay right in the middle. It couldn't touch the empty sugar sachet she'd ripped up and pushed to the side or this god awful burning plastic smell would consume the air.

I think that's why I thought she was alright. She had her batshit crazy rituals right up until noon - keeping things where they should be and all. And I think that's how you know a girl's alright, when she won't let plastic burn because the smell annoys everyone else.

She didn't take notice of the news either. In fact, I'm sure she'd been out of the loop for a few months now. It kept her sane I reckon, almost justified her more-than-questionable habits.
I think she didn't pay attention to it because she'd decided it made her smoke more. 
And she didn't applaud the idea of being as miserable as the bastard bank men her father once said she'd do well with.

I couldn't tell you all that much more about her.
In truth, I don't know her.
We stop by the same cafe each morning, I linger nearly all day, except I know she doesn't see me, she doesn't see anyone, she's too busy.
Somedays she stays an hour or so, calls her mother, is reminded to eat, she ignores most of the incessant nagging I imagine.
And other days she's fast as hell. Barely looks up from the centre of gravity.

Either way, she's mesmerising.
Girls will do that to you, they'll drive you crazy with their weird habits.
They don't change though, never do, not really.
Especially not for bastard bank men.

Saturday, 11 June 2016


I wasn't expecting to see you hiding there,
where I am now.

All these years later.

But there you were,
passing those seductive glances
you do so well.

You cut me up so bad,
so many times that
I figured there wasn't much left to destroy.

That killed me.
There you were.

After all this time.

I'd been doing alright
as it goes.
But you passed me
another seductive glance.

And I fell.
Deeper than before.
After all this time.

Friday, 10 June 2016


You seemed brighter that day.
Liked you'd slept more than four hours and hadn't been drunk the night before.

And this rare sight filled me with a little of the good stuff.

I've stepped back, and I now see you can do it alone.
As can I.

I realise now this a movement to be celebrated.
Not mourned.
We can both manage without the familiar. We can both flourish.
We're separate entities and often - in equal measures - I think we forgot this and became so consumed by our own little bubble that we stopped living.

It's taken a few thousand miles, too many cigarettes and the occasional "let me know when you're home" message to let go.
But the hour's arrived at the right time, for once.

I think, after all this, it's now easier to come together when we wish.
And when we do wish it, I hope you chose the bar, as always.

Thursday, 9 June 2016


Saner heads prevailed this morning.
I've eaten more than a banana
and filled my lungs with fresher air.

Wednesday, 8 June 2016


There is more,
more to see, more to dance with
and alongside.

And on the wine-front,
I am more
than satisfied.

There is more sky.
More time to fill
and more pictures to take.

I notice more options
and opportunities.
It feels close enough to reach
and far enough for longing.

I hear more laughter
and conversation.

It is more alive,
more awake.
Each corner holds more detail than I can comprehend.

there are more achey feet
and greater impatience for caffeine.

And there's a greater scope for change
and exchange.

there are more words.
and written.


Tuesday, 7 June 2016

Photo Diary | Rome, So Far


It's a funny feeling being a little squiffy, in a big city, entirely on your own.

There are worse cities to feel like this in, that I know.
Scarier. Riskier, not as safe.

Mostly, it feels fine here. Like home.
I reckon it feels safer than where I was before.

I know there are weirder feelings to expect when I am teetering on the edge - like longer for my usual companions, my (previously) normal air, the better known.

This insanity usually lasts about 30 seconds.
At the 31st second, I remember where I am and what's in front of me.

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

Dear June...

Had you told me a year ago that at this moment in time I'd be sipping wine in the sweet, summer heat of Rome I would have howled with laughter.

Big adventures are coming and happening. It feels free and unpredictable, which scares me immensely, but I think I'm getting the hang of it.

It's this point in my life that's driving me mad with desire.

The desire to explore,
to be wherever I wish
whenever I wish.

I'm at my own dispose, finally.
And it's wonderful.

And I would love nothing more than to babble in my 'air-headed' way further, but I've got a lot of wine to enjoy, and a big city to delve into.