Saturday morning

Another night of the same dreams, another morning of the same thoughts. Now another day ahead with the person I least want to spend time with.

I don't understand why I can't let go. Is it so hard to move on? But for me it is, so I continue inflict pain on myself and the person I hold most dear. And that makes me feel so bad. What kind of love is that?

Each day I de construct my life in the same desperate quest for answers. But none are forthcoming and I'm scared.

Guilt

n.

1. The fact of being responsible for the commission of an offense. See Synonyms at blame.
2. Law. Culpability for a crime or lesser breach of regulations that carries a legal penalty.
3.
1. Remorseful awareness of having done something wrong.
2. Self-reproach for supposed inadequacy or wrongdoing.
4. Guilty conduct; sin.

I feel some, but someone feels more. Neither is valid.

More post new resolutions...

Think positively about myself
Don't make excuses - speak honestly
Keep in touch better with people who are dear to me

Trust

n.
1. Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing.

Words I should try and remember.

Another day...

The routine is now the problem. Wake up in an empty bed. Have breakfast in front of the TV. Sit on a train reading a book. Enter my silent office, where the only noise disturbing the silence is that of keyboards clicking. The first meeting of the day and I am already dreaming of leaving. Dreaming of a different life away from here. Dreaming of things I haven't done, places I haven't seen and experiences yet to be experienced. But, of course, something drags me down, the same thought that hits me every day. Memories, dreams and hopes all converge into something which I can't understand. And through all of this one image sticks in my mind so strongly that I think it has been burned into my very consciousness. An image of life that I may never live, but one which I cannot give up hope for.

Money 1 Human rights and free speech 0

Compare Google and their new Chinese site and it becomes very clear. Another company looking for a quick buck at the expense of everything else, even their own mission statement.

So just another in a long list of companies (and the people who run them) who at the first sign of money, throw all those ideas which are so important straight out of the window.

Zen

An evening of meditation and relaxation brings some things into focus. But the bigger questions are still there lingering in my mind. Another job possibility has now appeared, this time back in London. Do I rush into moving back or should I take my time and see what happens to my life here? The call of familiar surroundings and friends is strong but am I giving up too early on my dream of living abroad? Should I soldier on here despite what I feel?

Funny how the only certainty I have right now is the one thing that is impossible. Everything else is wide open. The world is my playground but am I ready to play?

Coming home

Not the big move (at least not yet) but a quick visit now booked for a few weeks time. So now time to arrange to meet friends, have fun and forgot about my bigger questions.

There, but not there

I'm sitting in a room and conversation is taking place all around me. I'm taking part but then at one moment I tune out. From that point on I'm like an invisible spectator listening but unable and unwilling to participate. Whereas I want talk about politics, society, things that matter, all I hear are banal discussions about television.

It's the second time this has happened in 3 days and I'm realizing that I'm really missing my friends and my former life back home.

Destination somewhere

If life is a journey, then I've got lost on the way. Bad map, poor navigation, back seat driving or just plain incompetence, take your pick.

But I think the solution is becoming clearer. I need to leave this place and all the memories it holds. Say goodbye to Geneva, my flat, my belongings, my IKEA furniture and my job. And then see where the wind takes me.

Who am I?

Things used to be very clear. Who I was, what I wanted to do and where I was going. But now everything is up for grabs. Tonight I had to leave a bar to go and cry outside in the street. I realised I didn't know who I actually am. Do I want to live here, do I want to carry on with my job, do I want to carry on in this way? The answer to these questions is mostly no, but I just don't know how to break free.

Tingles

Hands move over my feet, massaging here, applying pressure there. It only takes 15 minutes and I can't feel any real difference. Relaxed yes, but nothing more than that.

Two hours later and they are tingling all over. An odd, but rather pleasing experience.

An audience

I started writing a post late last night but I wasn't able to publish it. Something just didn't seem right when I hovered my mouse over the publish button. I looked at the post again this morning and I could see why. What I had written was for one person, more a message than a random thought from me. Whilst I find it so hard to pick up a phone or send an email, writing here seems so much easier.

Which begs the question, why? Is it because I know friends and random strangers are reading this? Is it because writing my thoughts here is less committal than expressing them in a more direct way to an individual? Is it because a blog allows me to express my feelings in a more unconventional way? Am I playing to the crowd?

The day after

I used to sleep so well that I would joke that I'd sleep straight through a nuclear war. Nothing would disturb me. Now things are very different. More than a few hours uninterrupted sleep is a blessing as my dreams are now torturing me. Dreams of a person, their face, their voice, their inner self. When I wake up I want to shout their name as loud as I can so that they would hear me where ever they are. And I wonder, what are they doing at that very moment, what are they thinking, am I in their mind as they are so vivid in mine?

Am I just a lover spurned who is not understanding rejection? Yes. But I'm also someone who is only now finally understanding what love actually means. And that is the ultimate tragedy.

Miles

Off all the music I listen to, I think I get most pleasure from jazz. There is something about the combination of instruments, the rhythm and the improvisation that makes me feel warm inside. And of course, liking jazz, I have a special fondness for Miles Davis. From the moment I first heard Kind of Blue I've been transfixed by his records, some of them so beautiful that they almost make you cry.

So I was surprised to read that he was a man prone to violence (including many cases of domestic violence) and a heroin addict. Why I'm surprised I don't know as you often hear of such talented people having darker side to them. But I wonder whether his inner demons were the cause or the result of his amazing gift.

The end?

One person heads off, the other remains in Geneva. I wish it would happen differently but the decision is not mine. So I am a mere spectator in a show that has gone on for far too long. But now it ends, this time for good I fear.

Knowing too much part 2

Ok, I say one thing and do the complete opposite. So I now have found out far, far too much for my own good. And now I'm angry as well....

Knowing too much

Knowledge can sometimes be a terrible thing. I found out something which I shouldn't know or care about. But for some reason I do. So with the help of the information super highway I now know even more. Does this help me? No, but part of me wants to carry on searching. But the bigger question is why I am doing this. Jealousy plays its part, but curiosity is there as well. I'm one of those people who wants to know things, even when they are none of my business. So another thing for me to learn; letting go and minding my own bloody business.

View from my window

Snow dances as I stare out across the street. Specks of white fly past as they continue their inevitable descent to earth. But like dust they swirl, floating up then down, flowing with every change in the wind. Yet downwards they must eventually fall, for there is no other way for them to go.

As the moments pass the ground beneath me begins to change, a cold black grey soon replaced by white.

The city is swiftly transformed into something else.

Airports..

..are all the same. Lots of people anxious to be somewhere else.

Pre recovery

3.40 am and I've just got back. Funny how in London I would have been asleep by 1 at the latest. Tonight was different; lots of wine (of course), beers, great people, dancing (yes, me) in a really cool city.

The tourist mode begins at 10 am so I hope I manage to get some sleep.

Relaxation

A nice bath. A cold beer. A successful day over. A pleasant evening and good company to look forward to. Don't you love Fridays?

Hotels

So here I now sit in that most soulless of all places, a hotel room. A place designed to be without charm, without character. A place whose very purpose is to support our modern transitory lifestyles. Thousands of people will have stayed in this room before me and thousands more will after me. And yet none of us will ever be remembered.

Athens

Another destination, another city. A shower makes me look more presentable but I feel shattered physically whilst my heart and mind are wondering.

But instead of much needed rest I must now attend a meeting to discuss the issue of toxic chemicals in wildlife. When what I probably need most right now are some of those same chemicals inside me just to keep me awake.

Zurich

Another place, another airport. Yet one is just like another.

For me, my heart lies elsewhere, next to someone sleeping peacefully in my bed. I would do anything to be with them right now, but I know that is not possible.

So I remember last night without regrets.

I hate email because...

It is impersonal
It is easy to misunderstand
There is too much off it
Most of it you receive is meaningless
You can not see the face of the sender as they write their words
You can not argue easily with it
Waiting for hours for a reply kind of kills the moment
You can rewrite messages endlessly before you send them
It kills spontaneity (well for me at least)
It can make people think you can actually spell

Out there

Decisions are made around me at work, discussions carry on, and I play no part. A weird feeling which I haven't experienced for a long while. But whilst part of me isn't happy the other part doesn't really care.

Amazing what a few months and a personal crisis can do to change your perspective on life.

Boots

"These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do
one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."

By Nancy Sinatra

Just the boots of course, nothing else...

Looking forwards

So here I am, looking forwards, with no illusions about what lies ahead. It will be hard not to repeat the mistakes of the past, but I feel I have changed in recent months. I've discovered a side of me, that I did not know existed.

And I wouldn't change that for the world.

Recurring dream

I'm having the same dream these days.

But when I wake up I realise that is all it is, a dream.

So now I wish I was asleep again.

Moments of clarity

There are certain times when things just seem to make sense. All to brief moments when the bullshit disappears and you see things like they are. Without fear, without confusion, eyes forward not back. I've just had one of these and it feels good. By tomorrow it will be just one thought amongst a thousand others spiraling round in my head, the confusion and insecurities will return and normal service will be resumed. But I'm going to treasure the moment whilst it lasts.

And on that thought I say to your dear reader: good night, sleep dreams and don't let the bed bugs bite.

Lost souls and fish bowls

We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.

Source: Pink Floyd

Am I crazy?

I think I probably am. I'm having lots of thoughts at the moment about whether Geneva is the right place for me at this point in my life. And I'm thinking it probably isn't. But I then go and see a really interesting job which is based...in Geneva. So I'm now thinking of applying... I think I need my head examined.

Is there a doctor in the house??

Looking for inspiration

I haven't been at work for two hours and I am already staring out of the window. They say the work is a key ingredient to happiness and they probably have a point. But for numerous reasons I can't get excited about what I'm doing. My heart simply isn't in it, and that tells me that is it time to move on...

Goodbyes

We wave goodbye to friends on the train and then all part our separate ways. After several days together I'm sad to see them go. Being around friends makes you realise the importance of social interaction, how we need it to feel alive. Now they are gone and life returns to normal here. The questions remain about what 'normal' actually means however. But I can enjoy the peace for a short while before I start trying to answer that one.

Into the night

We move silently throw the night, crossing snow covered valleys. Passing distant villages only visible by soon to be gone Christmas decorations. Cold ice slides down my back as my mind begins to wonder, the only thing keeping in this place is my writing these thoughts. My attention is interrupted by music blaring from a strangers stereo. The silence is broken, but no one else has noticed. The others are all in the their own worlds, half asleep after a full day. Now we head onwards into the darkness and are consumed by the night.

Experiences

It seems that life is comprised of a myriad of different experiences. Some good, others bad, all of which are highly subjective and relative. Love, pain, joy, happiness, fear, passion, violence and desire. The list is endless. Each helps shape who we are and what we will be. Yet how far do such experiences shape our ultimate paths in life and the decisions we make? Does someone's experiences in childhood and at that formative age ultimately determine where they end up? Do our parents and their choices (or lack of) on our upbringing provide clear reasons for who we are? How does one experience effect others that follow after it?

Again I have no answers, but it seems to me that a pattern is emerging. The problem is that I can't quite see what it is yet....

Goodbye one year, hello another

So a new year begins. Hard to know what it will hold, but I have to keep my fingers crossed. Celebrating the year in was a difficult experience. It is one of those times where you really notice other people's relationships. Couples disappearing to share a kiss, hands held under the table, discussion about shared plans and resolutions for the year ahead. Sadly that all brings home the truth that, in this sense, I am alone. Not that I lack friends of course, I don't. But I have lost the one person who I want to share my life with. And that truth bites very hard.