I have become increasingly aware of the different phrases used by many before the all important ‘it’s over’. Enjoy…
The worst ways to end a relationship:
5) ‘We’re two different people.’
4) ‘I feel like I’m walking with a dead person. You’ve really let yourself go.’
3) ‘Before I settle down I want to be single for a while.’
2) ‘I was overcome by a thunderbolt of lust and I no longer love you the way I do them.’
And the prize for least originality and serious wanker behaviour goes to…
1) ‘It’s not you. It’s me.’
Occasionally one wonders what sort of relationship these people thought they were in.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
The Doctor/The (new) Doctor *Delete as applicable
Written by my dear friend ‘The Dame’...
Alanis Morissette really was right when she sang the words "Isn't it ironic . . . don't you think". I mean, I have a great respect for her anyway, but perhaps even more so now. The story I am about to tell still feels so surreal but I will do my best to tell it.
I was working last night and happened to call into a regular haunt of mine to get something to eat. A regular haunt with a healthy discount, who wouldn't go? Anyhow, I was examining the menu when I noticed a girl in front of me who I thought was very striking. She turned at the counter and struck up a conversation with me, about my profession and her own profession. Here is where the irony of life meanders in . . . she is a medical student soon to take up post as a Doctor. More ironic than ths, she will work at the hospital The Doctor works at and which I visit quite regularly during the course of my work.
We talked about so much in that 5 minute space of time, with the odd interuption being bellowed at me, permeating the niceness of it all, such as "Do you want salt and vinegar with this?". The conversation moved so quickly and with such ease before she shook my hand and said it was lovely to talk to me. She then left the shop.
I stood there contemplating our conversation and thinking a few things (a) how pretty she was; (b) how easily the conversation flowed and that I couldn't remember what we had actually talked about; and (c) how easy it would have been to offer her my number, running the risk of her slapping me around the kisser for my troubles. My thoughts were interupted by her re-entering the shop and saying to me that she really respected the job I do and that I must be a good person to be able to do it. I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights!
Anyhow, I joined her outside and we began talking again for a period of time whereby I felt like I was suspended in a bubble, not really being able to see out. Without warning she said I should take her number and we should go out for dinner sometime. Aside from being gobsmacked I handed her my phone and she punched her number in without delay. It was at this point I was joined by a work colleague who had come to see if I needed any help because I had been talking for some 20 minutes.
Upon completing my night shift and waking up this afternoon I thought it must be too surreal to be true, but sure enough, there is the number sitting in my phone waiting to be contacted. And of course I will because I don't have anything to lose anymore, it has already been lost and must be regained. How funny life really is.
Bought the new Haruki Murakami novel the other day, which is waiting to be devoured. May well spend some time reading it in London with Tainted. On that note, if anyone gets the opportunity, grab a copy of Mr Murakami's short story collection 'The Elephant Vanishes' (available in most bookshops) and take a few moments to read the story found on page 67 entitled 'On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning'. A truly beautiful piece of writing, and if I am ever able to write that well one of my mission's in life would have been accomplished.
Yours,
-The Dame-
Alanis Morissette really was right when she sang the words "Isn't it ironic . . . don't you think". I mean, I have a great respect for her anyway, but perhaps even more so now. The story I am about to tell still feels so surreal but I will do my best to tell it.
I was working last night and happened to call into a regular haunt of mine to get something to eat. A regular haunt with a healthy discount, who wouldn't go? Anyhow, I was examining the menu when I noticed a girl in front of me who I thought was very striking. She turned at the counter and struck up a conversation with me, about my profession and her own profession. Here is where the irony of life meanders in . . . she is a medical student soon to take up post as a Doctor. More ironic than ths, she will work at the hospital The Doctor works at and which I visit quite regularly during the course of my work.
We talked about so much in that 5 minute space of time, with the odd interuption being bellowed at me, permeating the niceness of it all, such as "Do you want salt and vinegar with this?". The conversation moved so quickly and with such ease before she shook my hand and said it was lovely to talk to me. She then left the shop.
I stood there contemplating our conversation and thinking a few things (a) how pretty she was; (b) how easily the conversation flowed and that I couldn't remember what we had actually talked about; and (c) how easy it would have been to offer her my number, running the risk of her slapping me around the kisser for my troubles. My thoughts were interupted by her re-entering the shop and saying to me that she really respected the job I do and that I must be a good person to be able to do it. I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights!
Anyhow, I joined her outside and we began talking again for a period of time whereby I felt like I was suspended in a bubble, not really being able to see out. Without warning she said I should take her number and we should go out for dinner sometime. Aside from being gobsmacked I handed her my phone and she punched her number in without delay. It was at this point I was joined by a work colleague who had come to see if I needed any help because I had been talking for some 20 minutes.
Upon completing my night shift and waking up this afternoon I thought it must be too surreal to be true, but sure enough, there is the number sitting in my phone waiting to be contacted. And of course I will because I don't have anything to lose anymore, it has already been lost and must be regained. How funny life really is.
Bought the new Haruki Murakami novel the other day, which is waiting to be devoured. May well spend some time reading it in London with Tainted. On that note, if anyone gets the opportunity, grab a copy of Mr Murakami's short story collection 'The Elephant Vanishes' (available in most bookshops) and take a few moments to read the story found on page 67 entitled 'On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning'. A truly beautiful piece of writing, and if I am ever able to write that well one of my mission's in life would have been accomplished.
Yours,
-The Dame-
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Back on form
So, it's all over. Every part of my body is crossed in hope that I've passed the last exam I'm due to be taking in a long while.
And for the first time in my life I really don't know what to expect next. Previously, I'd always known.
Now that the academia is over for the time being, I can concentrate on my creative interests, focus more of my attention on this blog and pay due homage to my penis.
Of course, the cock thing really ought to come first (yes, there's a pun). The next week is filled with fun and interviews. Confidence should therefore be on top form one feels.
Increasingly, I've thought my lack of action somehow equates me with the Pope. The difference between us is however that I'm now in a position to grab the bull by the horn whereas he can merely utter a pray and ask forgiveness.
A gaydar profile seems to be on the cards, as is a mysinglefriend.com profile. And that woman, she most certainly needs to be found.
At home over the weekend. Have found time to:
1)paint
2)download an assortment of porn
3)eat my entire body weight (as per usual) in Indian food
4)spend time with my family as it dawns on them that I'm never going to be home the way I used to
5)realise that my life is not about to begin
6)started a facebook account. I thought I'd mention it and confess my hypocrisy before any of you did. The thing is, keeping in touch with friends I've made over the years is an important thing Methinks. Facebook seems the only way to do this successfully. And, I have more time to sit browsing than I used to. It's probably also the best way of finding out whether the people i suspected were gay actually are.
Back in London tomorrow for the first party. ONandON is the venue. I wait with bated breath. To feel the freedom rushing through my veins and the veins of others.
Want some action by the end of the week. If i set myself a target, I'll feel able to achieve it. The Dame is over mid week for a spot of nothingness (which is always grand). On Friday we set Lady Montague off on her travels before she starts her 'proper job'. Tuesday evening we celebrate Titania's engagement. And we have a picnic with Lady Capulet on Wednesday.
Summer is finally upon us.
And for the first time in my life I really don't know what to expect next. Previously, I'd always known.
Now that the academia is over for the time being, I can concentrate on my creative interests, focus more of my attention on this blog and pay due homage to my penis.
Of course, the cock thing really ought to come first (yes, there's a pun). The next week is filled with fun and interviews. Confidence should therefore be on top form one feels.
Increasingly, I've thought my lack of action somehow equates me with the Pope. The difference between us is however that I'm now in a position to grab the bull by the horn whereas he can merely utter a pray and ask forgiveness.
A gaydar profile seems to be on the cards, as is a mysinglefriend.com profile. And that woman, she most certainly needs to be found.
At home over the weekend. Have found time to:
1)paint
2)download an assortment of porn
3)eat my entire body weight (as per usual) in Indian food
4)spend time with my family as it dawns on them that I'm never going to be home the way I used to
5)realise that my life is not about to begin
6)started a facebook account. I thought I'd mention it and confess my hypocrisy before any of you did. The thing is, keeping in touch with friends I've made over the years is an important thing Methinks. Facebook seems the only way to do this successfully. And, I have more time to sit browsing than I used to. It's probably also the best way of finding out whether the people i suspected were gay actually are.
Back in London tomorrow for the first party. ONandON is the venue. I wait with bated breath. To feel the freedom rushing through my veins and the veins of others.
Want some action by the end of the week. If i set myself a target, I'll feel able to achieve it. The Dame is over mid week for a spot of nothingness (which is always grand). On Friday we set Lady Montague off on her travels before she starts her 'proper job'. Tuesday evening we celebrate Titania's engagement. And we have a picnic with Lady Capulet on Wednesday.
Summer is finally upon us.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Spurt (pun intended)
A week to go and the exams'll be over. That's correct, revision over.
In the past month I had -
1) very little in terms of sex (of any definition),
2) bouts of revision induced depression,
3) great enjoyment from and now a sadness at the finale of The Apprentice and Desperate Housewives. I fear I may have to get myself a life,
4) great amounts of love, lust and almost an erection for Katie from The Apprentice. Somebody talented, authoritative, sharp and intelligent. So similar we are. In fact, I've never googled a woman so much in my entire life,
5) a series of raging often painful and mostly pointless and disheartening erections with nowhere to put them. This, once I'm able, will be on the hot list of things to do (the pun, as ever, is intended)
6) limited conversations with The Dame, Ophelia and Desdemona as a consequence of our busy lives. Next week and the slag parties shall be in full swing
7) Sadness that Tony Blair is leaving and happiness that Camilla might one day be my Queen
8) Happiness after that Opera Singer clinched a Royal Variety Performance after winning that talent show
9) Sadness because my conversations with M have become limited. fitting into our totally asexual friendship was perfectly fine. Maintaining our relationship when M doesn't have much to say may prove rather difficult
10) sadness at Desdemona's comment that my voice has developed a London 'twang' and that I don't sound as 'posh I used to'. Ouch!
In the past month I had -
1) very little in terms of sex (of any definition),
2) bouts of revision induced depression,
3) great enjoyment from and now a sadness at the finale of The Apprentice and Desperate Housewives. I fear I may have to get myself a life,
4) great amounts of love, lust and almost an erection for Katie from The Apprentice. Somebody talented, authoritative, sharp and intelligent. So similar we are. In fact, I've never googled a woman so much in my entire life,
5) a series of raging often painful and mostly pointless and disheartening erections with nowhere to put them. This, once I'm able, will be on the hot list of things to do (the pun, as ever, is intended)
6) limited conversations with The Dame, Ophelia and Desdemona as a consequence of our busy lives. Next week and the slag parties shall be in full swing
7) Sadness that Tony Blair is leaving and happiness that Camilla might one day be my Queen
8) Happiness after that Opera Singer clinched a Royal Variety Performance after winning that talent show
9) Sadness because my conversations with M have become limited. fitting into our totally asexual friendship was perfectly fine. Maintaining our relationship when M doesn't have much to say may prove rather difficult
10) sadness at Desdemona's comment that my voice has developed a London 'twang' and that I don't sound as 'posh I used to'. Ouch!
The Dame Chronicles
Written by my dear friend ‘The Dame’...
Back in hometown until Wednesday evening. My mission, to feel the warmth of the family fold and to sleep in my own bed. Instead I'm confronted by my mother who said to me today, and I quote, "why are you walking around wearing that, with a face like a slapped arse?". She was of course referring to my ever faithful favourite scruffy green jumper. It was at this point I was overwhelmed with the temptation to say "Well, actually mum if you must know, I am miserable. You see, I was seeing someone I liked very much, SHE finished with me and I miss HER a lot alright? Oh.. what sorry, of course I forgot, you think I have been straight and single since birth don't you - but well, no I haven't. I am walking around with a face like this because I just want to hear her voice or see her again OK, now can you leave me alone please?". This of course would have provoked no end of questions or an ejection from the house so instead my mumbled response was thus; "I'm just tired". I have been working long hours so this went down well, as did my head as it hit my pillow at 3pm. Strangely enough, I would love to talk to her about how I'm feeling at the minute but as with everything, the one person you would love to talk to is often the one person you can't.
On a more cheerful note, my brother and his girlfriend recently got back together. If you have ever met two people who are perfect for each other, its these two. I write this as they are in the room next door learning to know each other again (no not like that you dirty minded buggers). They are talking, giggling and play fighting and I can't help but smile for them. He has been walking around with a huge grin for days and it's lovely to see him happy again.
Have been conversing with one of Common Julie's acquaintances on Facebook for most of today. I have spoken to her many times on the phone, often late at night, and we discuss all sorts. She is, I might add, gorgeous. She said to me 'Ah, I finally get to see what you look like. Common Julie told me you looked like Ann Ramsey from 'Throw Momma from the Train'. I will have words with her'. She has also made a point of telling me "You know, I think you're lovely and if I were gay you'd definitely be my type". Is this meant to be a compliment? If you're reading this Olivia, I will take it as one.
Much love,
-The Dame-
Back in hometown until Wednesday evening. My mission, to feel the warmth of the family fold and to sleep in my own bed. Instead I'm confronted by my mother who said to me today, and I quote, "why are you walking around wearing that, with a face like a slapped arse?". She was of course referring to my ever faithful favourite scruffy green jumper. It was at this point I was overwhelmed with the temptation to say "Well, actually mum if you must know, I am miserable. You see, I was seeing someone I liked very much, SHE finished with me and I miss HER a lot alright? Oh.. what sorry, of course I forgot, you think I have been straight and single since birth don't you - but well, no I haven't. I am walking around with a face like this because I just want to hear her voice or see her again OK, now can you leave me alone please?". This of course would have provoked no end of questions or an ejection from the house so instead my mumbled response was thus; "I'm just tired". I have been working long hours so this went down well, as did my head as it hit my pillow at 3pm. Strangely enough, I would love to talk to her about how I'm feeling at the minute but as with everything, the one person you would love to talk to is often the one person you can't.
On a more cheerful note, my brother and his girlfriend recently got back together. If you have ever met two people who are perfect for each other, its these two. I write this as they are in the room next door learning to know each other again (no not like that you dirty minded buggers). They are talking, giggling and play fighting and I can't help but smile for them. He has been walking around with a huge grin for days and it's lovely to see him happy again.
Have been conversing with one of Common Julie's acquaintances on Facebook for most of today. I have spoken to her many times on the phone, often late at night, and we discuss all sorts. She is, I might add, gorgeous. She said to me 'Ah, I finally get to see what you look like. Common Julie told me you looked like Ann Ramsey from 'Throw Momma from the Train'. I will have words with her'. She has also made a point of telling me "You know, I think you're lovely and if I were gay you'd definitely be my type". Is this meant to be a compliment? If you're reading this Olivia, I will take it as one.
Much love,
-The Dame-
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
The Dame's Review
I have decided that my faith in women is so resoundingly low nowthat quite frankly I cannot be bothered with it all. I have however accepted a dinner invitation from a rather delightful young ladytomorrow night who swings my way, she is perfectly desirablebut also resoundingly unavailable. Oh well, a girl can window shopcan' she.
What has bought this on I hear you ask? After three lazy days off where all i appear to have done is sleep, watch re-runs ofSugarush, devour a delicable novel...oh and sleep, I have found myselfquestioning my motivation for what I always thought were the fairer sex. I would quite like a girlfriend like Saint from Sugarush, sexyin a non-conventional way and clever. I would like an adventure, the opportunity to get to know someone wholeheartedly, to talk absolute
bollocks and laugh about it, to take walks along the river in work town
at random hours, to have some great sex and explore someone else's body with rigour and passion... But, alas, in the modern world this is apparently far to much to ask for,and so Ihave made a decision to give women up. I can't be doing with them anymore. The book I have devoured over the last few days has, I admit,acted as somewhat of a catalyst here.
Landscape with Animals - Cameron Redfern* passion.desire.obsession *
An exquisite erotic novel that explores what it is to love the thingsyou cannot keep. A married man and a single woman meet at a partyand their attraction is instantaneous - they circle one another, untileventually he is led to her bed. This is an affair, but in no way a fling. This is the rare and extreme kind of love that is balanced on the finest of blades, a love that can tip people either way: the kindof love that people die for and kill for; a kind of love that heals or ravages the heart. Landscape with Animals is an honest, erotic novelabout a primal state in which nothing matters but the moment, a boundless moment in which there are no rules to bind or break. It charts a love affair that comes once in a lifetime, and changes livesforever.
What made me pick this book up? Well, the beautiful woman on the cover.Whoever said don't judge a book by its cover is flawed, because someof the best reads I've had have come from a judgement about the cover. This is a perfect example.
The long and short of it is a woman sees a man she knows of at a party. From the start she wants him. She wants him so much she wants him to die for her. She tells him "I want to screw you till you scream".He is married and she subsequently views his initial refusal as punishing her for something she had no say in (ie) his marriage to another woman. Her every thought is consumed by him and this comes across so well in the writing. To him, sex must mean something, he initially refuses to go to bed with her because acceptingher proposal to him is viewed as a failure on his part.
"I walk with this ridiculous swagger...I want to tell everyone about you. Complete strangers, when I'm buying a newspaper or waiting to cross the road. There's this girl, let me tell you. I keep droppingyour name into conversations when you've got nothing to do with it. Ican hardly be bothered eating, it's just a pest of a thing. I don't want to sleep because that's time I'm not thinking of you...I 'm as happy as an idiot. Because of you".
What first struck me about this book was the writing. The subject matter has been done before of course. Boy meets girl, boy and girl have wonderful sex, boy falls in love with girl. She writes as if she has actually felt it, had that feeling deep within her where she finds true escapism in another human being. A feeling that beginswith raw passion, sex so explicit the reader could almost believe theyare there. But ultimately, a feeling that somehow turns into love.
The next thing that got me thinking was: is this a story about love orpassion? The woman states she knew she would love him from the moment she met him, but she requests absolutely nothing from him. She doesn'trequest he leave his wife for her, nor does she tell him he must loveonly her. All she wants is time with him occasionally, this time is so powerful it enables her to live. He appears to fall in love with her as well and their time together is beautifully written, his only fear being that she might start to blame or despise him. It also calls
into question the fact that because he loves his wife and her, it must be
possible to love two people at once.
The question that was on my mind throughout was, is this really love or stupidness? Instead of being concerned for her own happiness she is consumed only by love for him and the "gravity of his situation". He on the other hand uses metaphor after metaphor to describe her hold over him, describing her as a "splinter under his skin, he wants toscratch her out of existence".
The reader tries so hard to get inside the psyche of this man. This manwho belongs to others and not to her. This man who loves her but notquite enough to put her before everything he belongs to. He doesn't trust her but cannot seem to give her up, all the while she is telling him the moment he wants to be set free she will set him free.
I absolutely loved this book, without a doubt. It did get me thinkingthough. Is this love? Everytime they meet they end upexploring each others bodies thoroughly, no stone is left unturned and they make love to one another with no secrets, every pore laid bare.Sexually they give each other everything. She is willing to give this man her heart, her whole being. She is there for him at home and he comes and goes as he pleases. They seem to have a hidden hold over one another with neither being able to give the other up. Ultimately, is this woman a mug or is she genuinely overcome by a love so forceful she has to exist in shadows? Is he taking advantage of her knowing he will always have something just that bit betterto go home to? Does real love really allow for you being comfortable with yourpartner sleeping in someone else's bed every night and coming to youoccasionally for sex and whatever else they may need?
Overall, it is for the reader to decide what is actually going on between the lines. Love or passion. The language is beautiful, the idea of the novel is overdone but equally beautiful. But if all elsefails, the senses are overwhelmed by the descriptions given of themtenderly getting to know one another, exploring each other and realising they actually do mean the world to each other. Therelationship possesses a uniqueness that only appears very infrequently,
and the story is told by a writer who, unlike most, actually possesses the ability to capture all of this using only words.
Back to the factory now for 4 days, only hope this 4 day stint is as enjoyable and worthwhile as last week's set. Wish I could go into more detail, but this, as are a lot of other things, is impossible.
Yours,
-The Dame-
What has bought this on I hear you ask? After three lazy days off where all i appear to have done is sleep, watch re-runs ofSugarush, devour a delicable novel...oh and sleep, I have found myselfquestioning my motivation for what I always thought were the fairer sex. I would quite like a girlfriend like Saint from Sugarush, sexyin a non-conventional way and clever. I would like an adventure, the opportunity to get to know someone wholeheartedly, to talk absolute
bollocks and laugh about it, to take walks along the river in work town
at random hours, to have some great sex and explore someone else's body with rigour and passion... But, alas, in the modern world this is apparently far to much to ask for,and so Ihave made a decision to give women up. I can't be doing with them anymore. The book I have devoured over the last few days has, I admit,acted as somewhat of a catalyst here.
Landscape with Animals - Cameron Redfern* passion.desire.obsession *
An exquisite erotic novel that explores what it is to love the thingsyou cannot keep. A married man and a single woman meet at a partyand their attraction is instantaneous - they circle one another, untileventually he is led to her bed. This is an affair, but in no way a fling. This is the rare and extreme kind of love that is balanced on the finest of blades, a love that can tip people either way: the kindof love that people die for and kill for; a kind of love that heals or ravages the heart. Landscape with Animals is an honest, erotic novelabout a primal state in which nothing matters but the moment, a boundless moment in which there are no rules to bind or break. It charts a love affair that comes once in a lifetime, and changes livesforever.
What made me pick this book up? Well, the beautiful woman on the cover.Whoever said don't judge a book by its cover is flawed, because someof the best reads I've had have come from a judgement about the cover. This is a perfect example.
The long and short of it is a woman sees a man she knows of at a party. From the start she wants him. She wants him so much she wants him to die for her. She tells him "I want to screw you till you scream".He is married and she subsequently views his initial refusal as punishing her for something she had no say in (ie) his marriage to another woman. Her every thought is consumed by him and this comes across so well in the writing. To him, sex must mean something, he initially refuses to go to bed with her because acceptingher proposal to him is viewed as a failure on his part.
"I walk with this ridiculous swagger...I want to tell everyone about you. Complete strangers, when I'm buying a newspaper or waiting to cross the road. There's this girl, let me tell you. I keep droppingyour name into conversations when you've got nothing to do with it. Ican hardly be bothered eating, it's just a pest of a thing. I don't want to sleep because that's time I'm not thinking of you...I 'm as happy as an idiot. Because of you".
What first struck me about this book was the writing. The subject matter has been done before of course. Boy meets girl, boy and girl have wonderful sex, boy falls in love with girl. She writes as if she has actually felt it, had that feeling deep within her where she finds true escapism in another human being. A feeling that beginswith raw passion, sex so explicit the reader could almost believe theyare there. But ultimately, a feeling that somehow turns into love.
The next thing that got me thinking was: is this a story about love orpassion? The woman states she knew she would love him from the moment she met him, but she requests absolutely nothing from him. She doesn'trequest he leave his wife for her, nor does she tell him he must loveonly her. All she wants is time with him occasionally, this time is so powerful it enables her to live. He appears to fall in love with her as well and their time together is beautifully written, his only fear being that she might start to blame or despise him. It also calls
into question the fact that because he loves his wife and her, it must be
possible to love two people at once.
The question that was on my mind throughout was, is this really love or stupidness? Instead of being concerned for her own happiness she is consumed only by love for him and the "gravity of his situation". He on the other hand uses metaphor after metaphor to describe her hold over him, describing her as a "splinter under his skin, he wants toscratch her out of existence".
The reader tries so hard to get inside the psyche of this man. This manwho belongs to others and not to her. This man who loves her but notquite enough to put her before everything he belongs to. He doesn't trust her but cannot seem to give her up, all the while she is telling him the moment he wants to be set free she will set him free.
I absolutely loved this book, without a doubt. It did get me thinkingthough. Is this love? Everytime they meet they end upexploring each others bodies thoroughly, no stone is left unturned and they make love to one another with no secrets, every pore laid bare.Sexually they give each other everything. She is willing to give this man her heart, her whole being. She is there for him at home and he comes and goes as he pleases. They seem to have a hidden hold over one another with neither being able to give the other up. Ultimately, is this woman a mug or is she genuinely overcome by a love so forceful she has to exist in shadows? Is he taking advantage of her knowing he will always have something just that bit betterto go home to? Does real love really allow for you being comfortable with yourpartner sleeping in someone else's bed every night and coming to youoccasionally for sex and whatever else they may need?
Overall, it is for the reader to decide what is actually going on between the lines. Love or passion. The language is beautiful, the idea of the novel is overdone but equally beautiful. But if all elsefails, the senses are overwhelmed by the descriptions given of themtenderly getting to know one another, exploring each other and realising they actually do mean the world to each other. Therelationship possesses a uniqueness that only appears very infrequently,
and the story is told by a writer who, unlike most, actually possesses the ability to capture all of this using only words.
Back to the factory now for 4 days, only hope this 4 day stint is as enjoyable and worthwhile as last week's set. Wish I could go into more detail, but this, as are a lot of other things, is impossible.
Yours,
-The Dame-
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Sat in the library when J comes in and asks, among other things, whether I'll be coming in tomorrow. By that he means will i be returning to the library/home/abode of all knowledge and thus increaser of chances that i'll pass the exams with flying colours.
'Of course I will. I'll be here every day until the exams are over' was my reply.
And my reason for being unable to revise at home? because If i do, the temptation to read 'proper literature' is too strongly present. That, and thinking about sex.
J is with me quite firmly on that one. As he strode out of the library earlier this afternoon he showed me precisely how he masturbates, indicating that this is what he does when at home and precisely why he couldn't revise at home. I'm expected to believe that the incentive behind his ferociously masturbation is boredom. Plain and simple. A tugging for all the wrong reasons.
I don't wank out of boredom as much as i do for ritualistic purposes. That said, there really is very little pornographic material for me to work myself up over these days. Same people, same techniques, same moans and groans. Yawn.
'Of course I will. I'll be here every day until the exams are over' was my reply.
And my reason for being unable to revise at home? because If i do, the temptation to read 'proper literature' is too strongly present. That, and thinking about sex.
J is with me quite firmly on that one. As he strode out of the library earlier this afternoon he showed me precisely how he masturbates, indicating that this is what he does when at home and precisely why he couldn't revise at home. I'm expected to believe that the incentive behind his ferociously masturbation is boredom. Plain and simple. A tugging for all the wrong reasons.
I don't wank out of boredom as much as i do for ritualistic purposes. That said, there really is very little pornographic material for me to work myself up over these days. Same people, same techniques, same moans and groans. Yawn.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Food and Art
Not so much a new love, as an eternal source of aspiration. This is one man I wish I could be. The other people I wish I was are mostly women. Katie, from The Apprentice, or Sharon Stone’s character in Basic Instinct, to be exact.
No, the person I refer to is Damien Hirst. On completion of my exams I plan a well deserved visit to the White Cube Gallery in Hoxton for a glimpse of his ‘Beyond Belief’ exhibition which features the most expensive piece of art by a living artist ever; a human skull encrusted with £40 m worth of the purest diamonds (teeth still intact). Also, we have a new shark in formaldehyde and a dove in formaldehyde.
This leads me on to another man who I greatly admire. Mr Charles Saatchi, the art collector from heaven.
In a recent Q & A question and answer with Mr Saatchi, the public asked him a serious of questions of which this one grabbed my attention:
And for those of you who don’t yet know, Mr Saatchi is married to Nigella Lawson (of the edible variety)
Q - What's Nigella's cooking really like?
A - I'm sure it's fantastic, but a bit wasted on me. I like toast with Dairylea, followed by Weetabix for supper. It drives her to distraction, frankly, particularly as she gets the blame for my new fat look. But the children love her cooking, and our friends seem to look forward to it.
No, the person I refer to is Damien Hirst. On completion of my exams I plan a well deserved visit to the White Cube Gallery in Hoxton for a glimpse of his ‘Beyond Belief’ exhibition which features the most expensive piece of art by a living artist ever; a human skull encrusted with £40 m worth of the purest diamonds (teeth still intact). Also, we have a new shark in formaldehyde and a dove in formaldehyde.
This leads me on to another man who I greatly admire. Mr Charles Saatchi, the art collector from heaven.
In a recent Q & A question and answer with Mr Saatchi, the public asked him a serious of questions of which this one grabbed my attention:
And for those of you who don’t yet know, Mr Saatchi is married to Nigella Lawson (of the edible variety)
Q - What's Nigella's cooking really like?
A - I'm sure it's fantastic, but a bit wasted on me. I like toast with Dairylea, followed by Weetabix for supper. It drives her to distraction, frankly, particularly as she gets the blame for my new fat look. But the children love her cooking, and our friends seem to look forward to it.
Monday, June 04, 2007
The Tale
So bored of revision, I could write a novel. And so I did. At least, it's a continuation of The Dame's tale from previous entries. I write from the point of view of the wife...
That moment. The moment you know that your husband is cheating. It’s so clearly defined. Round and tangible, an apple. And the guilt, the sorrow, or, the indifference, is so utterly edible.
It was the sex we had, you see. Very careless, very hurried, very passionate, very unlike us post-marriage. Eleven minutes of intercourse and during the seventh minute, it hit me. He had changed. He was trying to fuck the guilt out of his system. To test where things had gone wrong.
And so I let him continue. Of course, the orgasm I don’t recall. Nor do I recall looking into his eyes. After all, I always felt that that’s what I’d do; look into his eyes, spot the serpent and turn away from him. It’s almost as though I’d planned this to happen.
All I remember is asking him, two minutes after he’d come inside me, whether he was cheating. And he responded with a grunt, turning away as though he hadn’t heard. Of course, at that very point, our marriage was over.
When I say over, I don’t mean I threw his clothes out onto the patio, or take my rage out on the children.
Rage, you see, it’s best kept inside. It cements the soul, prevents it cracking. In fact, we said nothing about it what had happened for a long time after.
I wanted to keep him with me you see. I wanted to punish him through my indifference. I wanted so much to show him just how slowly a marriage could crumble. And just at the point when I felt he’d start to re build our family, I’d show him that the breaks had long been transported.
That’s the only way I know how to teach a man a lesson. Slowly.
So, it was in the thick of this rage that we held our anniversary ‘celebration’. And I thought it the perfect opportunity to invite her along. The third person in our relationship.
And the other woman. Oh, well she was my sister.
Rampancy
Never has cock featured on my mind as frequently or as relentlessly as it has these past few days. Whether this is because I am in the middle of exams and am thus spending a great deal of time bored to the core of my being, or because there has been a testosterone inflation in my genes, I need a good hard surface to play with.
Am also fatigued at having to masturbate time and again over the five pornographic videos I have managed to download onto my computer. I crave variety and my Internet connection is playing up as usual. Sigh.
In need of good wholesome porn. Anything with a cage and leather would really hit the spot. The way a cold coke hits the spot on a summer's day. Ah yes, I feel better already.
Also, at present, I am seeing as much action as I am football. And that, really, is none at all.
Am also fatigued at having to masturbate time and again over the five pornographic videos I have managed to download onto my computer. I crave variety and my Internet connection is playing up as usual. Sigh.
In need of good wholesome porn. Anything with a cage and leather would really hit the spot. The way a cold coke hits the spot on a summer's day. Ah yes, I feel better already.
Also, at present, I am seeing as much action as I am football. And that, really, is none at all.
The Dame's Review
Written by by dear friend 'The Dame'...
I've taken it upon myself to indulge in a few blog entries to stand in for dear old Tainted who is in the thicket of exams at the moment. Poor boy.
My first effort is a film review. A film everyone must see.
Wicker Park
When desire becomes deceit and passion becomes possession.
A story of love in all its many forms - obsessional, delusional, the quickness with which it can consume you, uncontrollable, and long lasting. The story involves one Mr Josh Hartnett (one of very few men on this planet who could turn even me), who works in a photography shop, and who believes that all things innately beautiful can be captured on film. One day whilst filming in the street he captures a woman, the gorgeous Diane Kruger, who is his One. They indulge in a love affair that consumes them both and the audience.
It is a love that comes along rarely. They walk together in the park, dance together, create their special place, indulge in every day activities together that we all take for granted and do not see the beauty in, culminating in a night of passion - after which their love only seems to prosper. He asks her to move in with him and although she knows she is going to accept wholeheartedly, before she has chance to do so, she goes away on a trip leaving that all important letter with her 'best friend'. The letter of course does not get to Mr Hartnett and he is left heartbroken and confused as to why the girl for him appears to have left without explanation.
The story is very cleverly told from the perspectives of all characters and the audience is predictably left in the dark until the very end as to what really happened. The couple are kept apart by the 'best friend' unbeknown to them both and it is difficult to watch at some points, with the couple missing each other by seconds whilst going about their lives.
Upon watching the film for the first time (and come to think of it, the numerous times since then) I am always struck by the questions: what happened to this all consuming type of love? Why are only some people blessed with true love? and What ingredients were present here to make these two characters know they were meant to be together? Ultimately, what is true love?
The couple are separated for 2 years, him thinking she had disappeared without explanation and her thinking (with help from the 'best friend') that he hadn't replied to her letter as he had slept with someone else. And yet they never give up hope of finding each other again. He tries to see another girl but his every waking moment he is thinking of her, chasing clues to try and find her. She sees other men but never gives up hope that he will come back to her.
I am always amazed that upon their reconcilliation in a busy airport, just as she is about to leave for good, it's almost as if they haven't even been apart. The look, the way they hold each other, the way they kiss - all take place whilst the resonating genius that is Coldplay's The Scientist chimes away in the background, never failing to bring a tear to the eye. How often do we really see that and why don't we see more of it? It's an exceptional piece of acting on the part of Hartnett and Kruger because as the viewer you actually believe they are in love (of course this is helped along some by the clever camera work and jigsaw style delivery of the story which gives an almost poetic feel to the film). Quite simply the film is venustus exquisitus validus...
Although the dominating theme is the romance between Hartnett and Kruger, events are also considered from the point of view of the 'best friend' in the piece. In this respect the film demonstrates quite nicely that love can also be destructive. The best friend wants what she cannot have, namely Hartnett, and it breaks her. Of course, it is not intended that we feel sorry for her because this is a consequence of her own design. However, the viewer does feel a sense of sorrow for her because she is holding on to something that does not want her anymore.
There are a lot of films out there that try to uncover the meaning of love and what it means to feel that way for someone else - but this certainly is one of the more beautiful of those films. Perhaps I'm bias because I like a film that provokes questions, like films that get me thinking and this certainly does that, hence the positive review.
And its not just because Josh Hartnett is the lead male.
I went to the seaside today (and sat in the sun with my book and notebook for most of the day). I find the sun therapeutic. Here's something to make you smile, my father is quite possibly the only person I know who needs a pair of elastic bands to hold his plimsolls together whilst visiting the sea...made me smile anyway...
-The Dame-
I've taken it upon myself to indulge in a few blog entries to stand in for dear old Tainted who is in the thicket of exams at the moment. Poor boy.
My first effort is a film review. A film everyone must see.
Wicker Park
When desire becomes deceit and passion becomes possession.
A story of love in all its many forms - obsessional, delusional, the quickness with which it can consume you, uncontrollable, and long lasting. The story involves one Mr Josh Hartnett (one of very few men on this planet who could turn even me), who works in a photography shop, and who believes that all things innately beautiful can be captured on film. One day whilst filming in the street he captures a woman, the gorgeous Diane Kruger, who is his One. They indulge in a love affair that consumes them both and the audience.
It is a love that comes along rarely. They walk together in the park, dance together, create their special place, indulge in every day activities together that we all take for granted and do not see the beauty in, culminating in a night of passion - after which their love only seems to prosper. He asks her to move in with him and although she knows she is going to accept wholeheartedly, before she has chance to do so, she goes away on a trip leaving that all important letter with her 'best friend'. The letter of course does not get to Mr Hartnett and he is left heartbroken and confused as to why the girl for him appears to have left without explanation.
The story is very cleverly told from the perspectives of all characters and the audience is predictably left in the dark until the very end as to what really happened. The couple are kept apart by the 'best friend' unbeknown to them both and it is difficult to watch at some points, with the couple missing each other by seconds whilst going about their lives.
Upon watching the film for the first time (and come to think of it, the numerous times since then) I am always struck by the questions: what happened to this all consuming type of love? Why are only some people blessed with true love? and What ingredients were present here to make these two characters know they were meant to be together? Ultimately, what is true love?
The couple are separated for 2 years, him thinking she had disappeared without explanation and her thinking (with help from the 'best friend') that he hadn't replied to her letter as he had slept with someone else. And yet they never give up hope of finding each other again. He tries to see another girl but his every waking moment he is thinking of her, chasing clues to try and find her. She sees other men but never gives up hope that he will come back to her.
I am always amazed that upon their reconcilliation in a busy airport, just as she is about to leave for good, it's almost as if they haven't even been apart. The look, the way they hold each other, the way they kiss - all take place whilst the resonating genius that is Coldplay's The Scientist chimes away in the background, never failing to bring a tear to the eye. How often do we really see that and why don't we see more of it? It's an exceptional piece of acting on the part of Hartnett and Kruger because as the viewer you actually believe they are in love (of course this is helped along some by the clever camera work and jigsaw style delivery of the story which gives an almost poetic feel to the film). Quite simply the film is venustus exquisitus validus...
Although the dominating theme is the romance between Hartnett and Kruger, events are also considered from the point of view of the 'best friend' in the piece. In this respect the film demonstrates quite nicely that love can also be destructive. The best friend wants what she cannot have, namely Hartnett, and it breaks her. Of course, it is not intended that we feel sorry for her because this is a consequence of her own design. However, the viewer does feel a sense of sorrow for her because she is holding on to something that does not want her anymore.
There are a lot of films out there that try to uncover the meaning of love and what it means to feel that way for someone else - but this certainly is one of the more beautiful of those films. Perhaps I'm bias because I like a film that provokes questions, like films that get me thinking and this certainly does that, hence the positive review.
And its not just because Josh Hartnett is the lead male.
I went to the seaside today (and sat in the sun with my book and notebook for most of the day). I find the sun therapeutic. Here's something to make you smile, my father is quite possibly the only person I know who needs a pair of elastic bands to hold his plimsolls together whilst visiting the sea...made me smile anyway...
-The Dame-
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