The Romancing of Self.

I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I stare out over the sea and contemplate the prospect of a icey cold dip. Or more sleep. I roll around for a moment or two. The feeling is already heavy and hard, right in my chest. Right in there.

Jonathan Ames wrote today in his blog:
My winter ennui is setting in early this year, though I doubt it has anything to do with light deprivation. Most likely, that’s just an excuse. I think the human brain latches on to bogus hypochondriachal information, like a virus, in order to create illness. And we want to be ill, so as not to deal with our emotions. But which emotions? Off the top of my head I’d — sadness, anger, regret, self-loathing, free-floating anxiety, loneliness and fear of death.

I noticed the prickle in my ovaries as I woke. Tried not to pay it too much heed as I dragged myself out of bed, stripped, popped my togs on and saunter out to find some solace in the sea.

Which I did.

But it was a slow train coming that day– well slow.

Which is why I felt so appreciative when my mate sent me a text with that excerpt from Ames’ blog.


Have this.

Consider this.

Which I did.

Which I have.

That was hours ago.

Hours and hours ago.

The day turns, is my point. Plus that mate, well she’s paying me a visit tonight and I don’t care much to make any more points that involve the sound of my digits tapping on keys– eyes narrowly avoiding reality. I want to be present. Pardon me. I want to be with her. Not my dongle. Plus the roasts nearly ready. The Innocent Bystander Pinot noir is going down a treat. We chilled it for a bit, you see, lit some candles and set my fan up. It’s on. First time for the season. We’re arguing about grammar. She’s great, my mate. She’s forcing me to listen to Paul Kelly. Though she knows she never has to try that hard, really.

Which reminds me to start tagging these blog things in Japanese. Why not. Now’s the time.


If you’re going to ruffle feathers baby– may at least make it count. Make it matter.



Read Ames’ blog here:


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: