I’m a guy with a hat and I know I like my hat

No reprise needed here. Recently I’ve been having what I guess could be called an awakening of some sort; think George Harrison or Josh Tillman becoming Father John Misty. 

I’ve begun work on something big to say the least. It’s been brewing in me for a very long time. With five years in my rear view mirror now, I’ve begun work on it. I’ve also been endlessly and writing away vastly notebooks. 

I’ve just finished listening to Neil Young’s On the beach (beautiful album) and now I’m listening to Elton John’s Madman across the water. 

To return to my despised moniker of the recent past: distance is a piece of shit. Well I can once again reaffirm it truly is. A beautiful love affair, I’ve been entangled in for a while now (could you tell?) has come to a saddening end. It has inspired and led to writing some poems and some of my poems being accepted by magazines such as Aphantastic and The drunken violet review- they will appear soon enough, not that you will ever know or check unfortunately (oh please do). I digress, this love affair has been the epicentre of my life for a while now. Ultimately resulting in torture, seriously awful stomach pains and self-loathing all feelings just for me. As love oft do for me. It was beautiful. This girl I do love dearly, has forever left a mark on my life. It was just spiralling downwards slowly, and if I didn’t intervene, it’d of been devastating. Most of this year has been bad enough for me. So I checked myself in the coat room. Stuck some journeymaning songs of The Beatles and Cat Stevens on, as well as some Father John Misty, and looked back at my life up till now in vivid retrospect. Have things changed?

Yes. Is that good?

Yes and no. Would I do it all again?

Of course I wouldn’t. One brick out of the wall of a life and it could collapse. One righted wrong, can lead to a lifetime of uncessary wrong’s.  

Some things aren’t meant to work out. I lost a girl awhile ago, and it took me till recently to realise that. Love doesn’t always come singualrily. Also a slap from a girl can really last a while. Some days I still think my left cheek’s sore. 

I find myself, with an empty phone, and a cold bed under the eaves. Just another desperado there (apropos to Warren Zevon with that). Nowadays I sit on the rocky hills of beaches and write away, my lovely straw trilby hat perched atop my head, melancholic as ever and my Hawaiian shirt clinging to my back. Wind swept forever. I needed to take a moment and realise having a lover isn’t so easy under the harsh spotlight of yourself. These people-less (of meaning that is) days of mine, without that beautiful girl, are morose, and yet I like them just like that. I’m taking time out from it all. Doing life without someone for a time is a necessity to discover yourself. You should try it sometime, you never know, life  doesn’t always need to be shared permanently. Stick some Elton John (Madman across the water is a must of course) on, sit back somewhere and do nothing. Let the world go by, touched.

  

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