I'm in an internet cafe on Viktoria Gatan in Göteborg. It seems that in the process of constructing something I've deconstructed something else. The bottom is falling out of it all and I feel I'm going to panic. I seek solice in the power of confessional text.

Forgive me blogger for I have sinned, it has been 6 days and 3 minutes since my last blog.

I used to live here, I used to be happy here, Göteborg was home. I've forgotten more than I'll ever know again, it's all crumbling away in my endeavour to chase whatever it is I am after; I don't fucking know what it is I am after, well, not in it's entirety. Places change, people grow and grow apart all that remains are strands, frayed but still there, memories of what could have been.

Is the path we follow a process of constant sacrifice, a neverending comparison of what we have against that we could have had, could have, should have, have and don't have. This may seem unnecessarily extreme, dark or non-productive, but this is my therapy, this is where I process and store, make my feeble and ineffective attempt at order and sanity. When are we winning and when are we losing? One feeds off the other, the constant push and pull of life, the flotsam and jetsam of reality washed up on the shores of our lives and taken by backwash into the distant memory. Memories of what?

I have been walking, trying to process what I am thinking, the tsunami in my head getting the better of me and I resign myself to the chaos as I feel a profound change about to take place. Conflicting moments of clarity have started a battle, neither wanting to back down, neither wanting to give way to the other and I question my validity. Right, wrong, I don't know and I want to crawl out of my own skin.

I open myself up and examine the fabric, grime interwoven with gold, purity with disease, life with death and darkness with light. The reality of it makes me feel sick and I struggle to eat, mid-level anxiety escalates to low-level panic.

I had profound dreams last night, visits from all my friends, my mother offering advice, stay calm, it's not all wrong, it's not all bad, take the push with the pull, that old story of the yin and the yang and where we find ourselves in between, dealing with the ebb and flow or beaten by the tide, flailing like a ragdoll in the waves, pushed up on the shores of life as a washed-out artifact, a distant memory.

I have opened sores, now bleeding and painful and there's no natural release, no endorphin sending me into blissful oblivion. Christ, where does this thought process come from, why can't it be as simple as it appears to be for some. This highly charged negative electron ready to shoot off into orbit and latch on to the next available and needy universe.

Out of kilter no, out of orbit more like it. I have work to do, I consider myself an unsuccessful human being, not entirely, but at this point I don't like what I see, I have work to do and if I fail to realise with maximum clarity the magnitude of the situation. If I don't conquer I will be defeated, if I am defeated... I fear that, failure is not an option and I need to realise that, properly harness the power of the situation and use it to my advantage, stay calm, reinstate perspective.

I'll sort this out, it's necessary and part of the cycle. I must not neglect balance, I must think clearly, slowly, don't rush don't panic. Nice and slow.


I have been ungrateful
And I have been unwise
Restless from the cradle
But now I realize

It's so hard to see the rainbow
Through glasses dark as these
Maybe I'll be able
From down on my knees

Oh I am weak
Oh I know I am vain
Take this weight from me
Let my spirit be unchained

Old man swearin' at the sidewalk
And I am overcome
Seems that we've both forgotten
Forgotten to go home

Have I seen an angel
Or have I seen a ghost
Where's that rock of ages
When you need it most

It's so hard to see the rainbow
Through glasses dark as these
Maybe I'll be able
From down on my knees

--- oOo ---

Johnny Cash, unchained