i am aimlessly wondering around. this cant continue for much longer.

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but i can't help but feel guilty as hell. the last night i saw him alive will be seared in my brain, in a moment of lucidity, he kissed my arm as i laid him into bed, and thanked me. i should have stayed home that night. he would not be dead now and i would not want to hurl myself under each and every truck and train i see now.

how will i ever come out of this pit i am in. i have no friends that i can talk too. talking to therapists is a waste of time. blogging is my only outlet left.

well, you can go into schizo mode.
so tell me kiddo, what's wrong.

well, i am totally lost and i don't even know where to look how to get out.

look, you're a big boy, you can figure it out easyily. i'll give you a hand. no worries. so tell me.

well, i don't know what to do with myself. i have enough money to live on for a while without working.

so that is not a problem then.

well, no.

so what is the problem.

the problem is that i can't stand to be alone anymore, and i cant stand to be with people anymore.

oh, i see. that maybe a little difficult to overcome.

what about getting a job, like your old spa jobs, where you are with people but they are not in your personal space. would that work? it would mean having to get a job, at least part-time. you know, get you out of the house and give you something to do other than the crap you are doing now.

yes it's a solution but you know as well as i do that you don't like doing work like that.

then fucking what for christ's sake? you don't want to work in an offce anymore, you don't want to do spas, what the hell do you want cos i cant' help you if you don't give me some kind of clue.

there, crux of the problem. don't know what i want.

ok, fine. until you figure it out, try and stay of crack. when you have a better idea, we can talk again. meanwhile, keep busy. swim, movie, diy round the house and start impossible projects and occupy yourself and your mind.

go tomorrow to the esate agents and figure out if it's rentable and waht you have to do to rent it out. then based on waht they say, it's will be the next step.

try and keep out of saunas. they are a waste of money really. and forget about bars too. you are not in the right frame of mind ot meet anyone. just leave it.

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So now i have to resort to blog. I thought that maybe i could just not bother and keep it all in. But I cant. Even if i have to speak to no one, better out than in.

I have to make so many decisions, big ones, and I really don't have a clue. i have to go by gut instinct and hope for the best. There is nothing else I can do. I used to thing older people totally knew what they were doing. But I am now the older people and i havent' got a fucking clue. It's all bloody guess work. So fine, I'll guess it out and see what happens.

Bit miffed cos the guys who installed my virgin media cable the other day nicked a couple of porn dvd's. some nasty eastern European gay porn with very unwilling actors and that was quite diffcult to watch. so didn't mind so much. they didn't get the good one as taht was in the dvd player. lesson there. get rid of all porn when workmen are in the house. jesus christ. they are on a salary, cant they afford 9,99 for a dvd. you can get them from anne summers these days.

i have a hernia. don't know what to do about it. if i get it operated on now, i am really very low and i think having pain now would be a bit too mucch for me to handle. there you go, gut instinct, don't do it...sorted.

right house. don't want to live here anymore. options. sell or rent. don't want to sell so rent the mother...there sorted.

all the crap from parents. do you want it/ no. is it worth anything? some of it. well, store waht you might want, the rest, just fucking throw it away...

that will do for now.

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But I had other reasons why I went there. Especially now more than ever. I used to shag a lot because I was bored and it passed the time. Like doing a crossword or reading the paper. I did it because I could. I am handsome and have a nice body so I am able to meet men rather easily. The sex was nice and occasionally I did get very horny, but the main reason was that I didn't have anything else to do. And it was fun and having sex with randoms is quite exciting, but I forgot about whatever experience I just had almost immediately as soon as I leave the venue.

But now it is different. I go now to stand in the dark where no one can see my scars. I am quite lucky in that the skin healed smoothly and they can't be felt and, in the dim light, they can not be seen. I don't even like sex very much any more. After my breakdown and time on anti-depressants, my sex drive is pretty poor. I can have sex, I still function, but I don't enjoy it that much. And what I end up doing when I am with handsome men is looking into their eyes and feeling rather nostalgic over the lost loves I have had. Now that is something you do not do in a sex club. You go there to shag and go home. No soppy stuff and the romantic stuff does not go down too well.

The not so attractive men may like it and I could probably acquire an ugly man quite easily who will over look my little brush with self-annihilation, but it's difficult for me to shag an ugly bloke more that once.

I now wait for an appointment with a plastic surgeon to see if my skin can be restored to pre slashing of the wrist days, or at least improve it somehow. If he says it can't be done, just as the guy in California said, then I will have to come up with a different plan to try and regain my freedom. I have it now as long as I wear a long sleeved shirt.

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well it amused me and so little does these days..I find pleasure in the strangest of places..reading over people's shoulders on the train till they feel my gaze and change positions..making eye contact with other car drivers till they look away first..keep those people who call you at night to advertise kitchens and cheap phone calls talking for ages and asking really banal questions and then saying I will think about it when they think they have made the sale..

sad git that I am..I expect it's something to do with turning 40 in a bit and still being single. I think I have given up on partnering up with anyone. I am so set in my ways now that I don't really anyone getting in the way. I suppose maybe it might work with some one really young who doesn't have a backbone yet and I can manipulate to my tastes. But the only problem with that is I am not attracted to the under 30's. Not to mention it would be morally reprehensible and all that. No, it's the single life for me.

Which is why I stay in shape. Go to the gym. One thing to be single and 40 but quite another to be single fat and 40. The ironic thing is that everyone who sees me says I look amazing. I don't feel amazing. However I am not so stupid not to realize I much better off being handsome fit and feel like shit, than to look like shit as well. Could be a lot worse and fully realise that.

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And she is looking irate exactly why? Your car in a state of perpetual motion and you never have to park, eh? Is that why? You are surprised that people park their cars? All the cars you see on the street were beamed down from the Starship fucking Enterprise and 'oh my God!', someone is actually slowing down and making me stop. Quick, call the press!! Silly woman.

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So this girl (who resembles Daryl Hanah so is pretty gorgeous) has started my project which I have now taken over. She has made so many mistakes that I just want to go up to her and slap her. Fixing someone else's mistakes is a pain that I did not forsee. I can allow a few (she is pretty) and maybe she was high on crack one day so I can forgive a few more errors. But everything, too much even for Cindy fucking Crawford.

So silver lining is this. I have three months to do the job. I figured I need to do 40 units a day to make it last. On day two, I have almost finished 150. Way too many. So correcting her mistakes is no bad thing. So must really slow down. Am relying on money for three months to pay for holiday round the sodding world I was just on. I would have prefered to whiten my teeth and buy a plasma screen tv and maybe get sky +. Now I have thousands on my cards for a crappy trip. I think I came back with bird flu, haven't stopped coughing in days. Great.

Have decided to go into work early. My mind is a bit numb first thing so figure perfect state to be in for job. By the time I start to really get bored, well, it's time to leave. Advantage also that I can totally slack of when no one in office. Another way to slow job down.

Problem is that there is a new programme on the sodding computer that is too efficient. I did job last year (seasonal like fruit picking) and it took ages with this dinosaur of a programme. Now, now, it's too quick. I am going so slowly even now and am still racing ahead. Any slower would be just embarassing.

So have decided to be super thorough and triple and quadruple check everything. So hope no one at work notices.

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It will only last three months, can only last three months. I can do the work in one really but I lied and said I needed three. So first day back. I have to hold myself back. I work fast, hate doing things slow. So to kill time I make everyone tea at every given chance. I make myself cappacuinos and even froth the milk and sprinke chocolate on top.

The cappacuino takes at least five minutes to make so that's a good one to suck up time. And I always make sure the tea brews for three minutes in the cup before serving it to my colleagues. None of this wham dunk business which takes hardly no time at all.

I have also taken to eating oranges. By the time I have peeled it, cubed it, added my probiotic yogurt, cleaned up all the untensils and any else I have found, well, that's easily seven or eight minutes.

So two oranges, a few coffees and some rounds of tea, as well as the prescribed hour for lunch, breaks from the computer and lots of toilet breaks-I drink gallons of water- I am sure I will finish my project on time.

It's funny but today is one of the best days I have had in ages. I didn't have to think of what to do. I have a job to do and it's much easier than life. I have so many decisions I need to make now. But I don't know what to do and have no one to ask. So I do nothing in fear I will fuck up like I have fucked up in every major decision I have made. I am hoping I wll suddenly realise what to a la road to damascus...not likely I guess

So I have this job and so for the next three months I can put all those decisions on hold.I think back to when I was twenty and wonder what I would say to myself. Now I cant help but think that when I am sixty, what would I say to myself now. Where must I go, what must I do, who can I ask and who gives a fuck to about me to really tell me the best way forward...I fear no one so I will not move. I can't fall if I don't move.

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So went to a movie-Syriana-very serious, did not enjoy it and quite glad when it finshed. I like films that make me happy. If I am going to pay £8 for something, it had better put a smile on my face.

It was all how people get screwed by the big american corporations and the government. It is all terrible and the world is an awful place and none of us deserve the air we breathe etc but I can read about all that for 60p. I don't need to pay £8 for someone to tell me the world is in a horrible mess. I know it's in a mess . I could have bough a nice top for £8!!

So on my way home and pick up message that good friends of mine have split up. Now I know this is really awful but I called straight back and offered to come round. The answer was yes. They thought I was being a good friend, and I was-sort of- but the real reason is that I just wanted to be with someone more misreable than me. It worked. I left their house with them bleary eyed and me as happy as a lark.

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Just had the worst date ever. Someone I met on line. I knew from the first moment we met that it was wrong wrong wrong. But I went ahead anyway. It took me an hour to get there so in for a penny and all that.

So we had a shag, it almost felt rude not to. So it was two hours from start to end. Why did I do it? Well better than sitting in an empty house watching tv. I had done my laundry and food shopping for the week and ironing for that matter. I even did a bit of waxing as the photos on the internet looked very promising. I thought I should look my best.

I even exfoliated and not having any product in the house, I combined couscous, salt, oats, mango yogurt and some coconut bath creme and I am telling you, smooth as a baby's bum and cost next to nothing.

I had the need to exfoliate as I have just had weeks in the sun and my skin has turned into flaky leather. I thought I should have smooth creamy skin for my date. I sort of wish I had kept all the hair and not bloody bothered.

Whoever said bad sex is better than no sex has never had ANY sex.

So I go back to work on Monday after a few weeks off. Actually have been off for eight months on account of my father suddenly dropping dead and leaving me some money. Needless to say I have spent most of the money on my trip round the world. Sort of wish I had bought a new couch and a plasma screen now that I am back.

The two highlights of the trip was swimming with the dolphins and landing back in heathrow. I've talked about that so no point rehashing all that. I know, ungrateful dumb ass that I am, starving children and people walking/hobbling around with no limbs and all that.

The worst part of the date was that after I had my shower, I looked in the mirror and yep, I have gained weight. It's this week, I have been sat on my ass recovering from this cough I came back with, eating like a hyena and not moving a muscle.

So back to eating like a sparrow and back to the gym as soon as I stop coughing up phlegm...not a good look at any gym

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Sort of got put off travelling. Had all these plans to explore Europe. Maybe short weekends. Maybe.

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Anyway, not here to talk about religion, jewish or otherwise, I am here because I have no one to talk to anymore and I am tired of writing to myself. I want to vent to the world as I can't really do it to the few people I have left in my life in case they should disappear too.

I came out of a looney bin last year after a brain meltdown induced by a severe bout of alcoholism that lasted for exactly 11 months. Enough to drive me insane and make me try and make me try to end my life several times.

Frankly, I was surprised as to how difficult it was to meet with the grim reaper. I suppose if I had a gun, I would definitely be dead or lying extremely injured in some hospital with half my head missing. Now THAT would have been a bummer. Instead, I have a broken thumb (healed of course) from my hanging attempt- the cord broke and I landed on said thumb and it healed leaving me with a gnarly joint- and scars on my arm from the scalpel incident.

Now that was a day I shall never forget. Waking up in a bloody bath with a great big hole in my wrist. Obviously not dead and then having to go to the GP to get it sorted. Really a classic situation. I asked to see the nurse. The receptionist told me it would be a week before the next appointment. I rolled my sleeve and plonked my arm infront of her full of holes. That seemed to do the trick.

They sent me to hospital and then I went into the psychiatric wing. Yikes. If I had any notions of being a bit mad, well that place soon made me realize that however nuts I felt, well it was a summer holiday in the Cote d'Azur compared to some of the poor souls in there.

I remember meeting one guy there who told me that it really was a myth that you can kill yourself by slicing your wrists, He said that if you possibly chopped your hand off with an axe, then you might cause enough blood loss to die. Otherwise, what will end up happening, as with him and countless others, is severely damaged hands and beaucoup scars.

Well that's me now. Beaucoup scars and nothing I can do about them. Have to wear long sleeves now all the time. Total bummer. Got round one week in Mykonos by having a henna tattoo which seemed to do the trick, so henna tatts it will be.

Does anyone read this stuff?

What I have recently discovered is that no one gives a shit about anybody except themselves and their immediate family. Now I know your friends care, but only up to a point. I went totally nuts. I mean barking. And your friends can only take it so far. Perfectly understandable. I might have done the same where I in their shoes.

Someone told me that depression is invisible. I look fantastic if I can be so modest. Good looking, nice body, young, all my own teeth, but I was like bloody Cassandra in side my head and then eventually outside.

I'm ok now. Well, was till two weeks ago. You see I went on this trip visiting old friends around the world. I would say one of the worst decisions of my life, except for maybe the slicing of the wrists. Actually, come to think of it, I don't think I can do anything more idiotic than that. So however much of future idiotic things I do, I will always rest assured in the knowledge that I can never be that much of a twit again.

So back to this trip. I spent it mostly on my own. Seeing the sights of wherever I was, Hong Kong, Australia and New Zealand and America. You see. This is my problem. It all sounds so bloody fantastic. How on earth can I say to people that I had a misreable time in all these fabulous places. It's like complaing of an in-growing toe nail to someone who's had their feet blown off whilst crossing field getting water for their dying child!!! You just simply can't do that. It's obscene. So obviously I won't.

But listen. Say you are on the Queen Mary travelling first class having paid £100,000 for a first class ticket and then you eat a dodgy shrimp. You're ill. You are not having a good time puking and pooing all over the place. Doesn't matter if you are dripping in diamonds and have toilet paper made of £20 notes, You are not having a good time. If you don't get my point by now, you never will and go ahead, think I am a spoilt brat.

So I keep silent and lie and say I had a wonderful time. The fact that I didn't lose the plot and go insane being on my own for so long is good enough for me to warrant the lie. And now I am back home, I am OK. Who gives a flying fuck? Just me and that will have to do,

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