Crash

Today is a crash day.

Crashed. Crushed. Fallen into a black vault in the earth, in the ruins of a building. Something no longer there anymore.

I don't want to be weak. I don't want brave. Don't want to be tough. Don't want to be confused. Don't want to be famous. Don't want to be inspired. Don't want to be driven. Don't want to be controlled. Don't want to get laid. Don't want to be sober. Don't want to be drunk. Don't want to be empowered. Don't want to be responsible. Don't want to be alone. Don't want to be surrounded. Don't want to think. Don't want to love. Don't want to be controlled, patrolled, defended, attacked, sharp, blunt, centered...myself.

I am going to write something to you. You know who you are! But for the benefit of anyone else unfortunate - or maybe foolish - enough to read this blog today, I will elaborate. You could be a friend, a spurned lover, a lost friend, someone from my future, an emotional ghost, myself twenty years ago - will still have a pact don't we? That we'd turn the tables, do something good in the world and let the bastards choke on it -, you could be my friend John and if so, then maybe you can explain why you brought the curtain down and jumped from the ledge.
Today my arms are outstretched and I pray for grace. I hope that something will fall from above and set me free, and that for once I will transcend and not merely escape.

Back to you. If I have ever betrayed you. Then I hope you know it. I probably have. I have certainly broken promises to you. No excuses on that front. I don't expect you to forgive me. I am truly unworthy of any good fortune that has ever come my way. Like the fuck-wit I am, I have often confused my cowardice with frailty. I have given myself too many breaks. There is a much bigger game than you'd ever believe out there, and I am too entwined with wreckage to let myself climb out of it. If you have ever loved me, and I haven't returned this...then I am sorry. I know what it is like to be in your shoes. How terrible to be in possession of so much positivity and have no way of realising it except in nightmares and Kleenex. I seem to be completely lost when it comes to maintaining relationships, I must be a pretty fucking poisonous person to cause the havoc that I have in the past, I should have learnt sooner that invitations come with an obligatory door slam in your face.

On the subject of faces. Let me clarify something for you. I am a tremendous actor. I can conjure up the most sophisticated veneer and alter ego to fool you, sometimes I even fool myself. Pretty fucking cunning isn't it?! Pretty fucking evil too. My duplicity is total. I might come over as an emotional lightweight, a happy, having a crazy fucking party life occassionally the five foot platform boots of a jester...but I'm actually deadly serious. This self-destructive society that we've engineered around us is looking pretty shakey...better not to talk about that, eh?! It'd put you off your Subway. Have another can of lager. Smoke a Lucky Strike...go on, they've got charcoal fucking filters and come in a really cool box.

Sorry? Not enough fun? Well maybe you'll like the other me then. Actually, I've been there before with you. You did a runner didn't you, because you couldn't handle that much fun. Maybe, it was because you were too strong, or maybe too weak...or maybe both, because if you're weak then you've got to be pretty fucking hardcore to be strong, haven't you!

I will take a deep breath. The sun rises after every bomb. I have been spoilt with fortune. I really am not worthy. There is a light gate somewhere, it draws in blinded navigators across the ocean of the stars, and when the visible glass structure is found it will shatter and the light will open.

Tom.

This is no crisis.