Poison in a pretty pill – 15th January 2018

One of the very few nights I managed to sleep the recommended amount of hours and so far, I feel suitably alert.  That could soon change after a couple of hours staring numbly at this computer screen.

It’s Monday morning and it’s been a while since I was working a regular day shift.  Night times and weekends it’s so quiet here it makes you nervous to even sneeze.  It’s somewhat comforting to hear the bustle of work and the earnestness of people discussing technical solutions.

One thing that I have developed as a pet peeve though is the absolute authoritative statement.  There are a few folks here who talk as if their word is definitive and their tone implies that there is no point to discuss anything further.  How can people be so secure in their knowledge of the world, of everything, that they already know that they cannot be convinced otherwise?  This shows me a stagnant mind.  No room to grow, no room to learn.

These people are usually men and usually older.  Though it’s even more excruciating to hear younger men talking like this, you can almost hear their minds closing up already, sealing shut.  The older men’s voices sound authoritative and dead.  A resignation that things just won’t get better.  ‘Things were better in my day’.  Maybe it’s the work environment, some kind of unsaid competition.  I never want to subscribe to this thinking, despite sometimes catching myself doing the same.  I think I avoid it mostly and it is a reason little kids like me so much, they can recognise the essentially childish wonder I have, the interest in the details, the awe of the world.

This attitude seems less prevalent in women and the one or two times I have come across it, it has been scary.  I’m not a macho kind of person.  I was raised by my mother after my father died when I was 18 months old.  I naturally learned the female perspective, a different view of things.  I fought against this as a teenager, trying to put my own stamp on my personality and eventually on the other side of it, became more comfortable in a more feminine environment.  I generally prefer the less competitive company of females.  I’m not into cars, muscles, action movies and getting pissed with the boys.  Not that I have rejected everything masculine – I can still be a beer drinking, sports-loving yahoo from time to time but mostly I enjoy these things alone where I can make an ass of myself, just to myself.

The Crass album ‘Penis Envy’ also made a big impression on my developing teenage mind too.

Sordid sequences in brilliant life!
Supports, and props, and punctuation
To our flowing realities and realisations
We’re talking with words that have been used before
To describe us as goddesses, mothers and whores
Describe us as women, to describe us as men
Set out the rules of this ludicrous game
And then it’s played very carefully, a delicate balance;
A masculine/feminine perfect alliance
Does the winner take all? What love in your grasping?
What vision is left, and is anyone asking?

I still had lots of growing pains when it came to love, sex and relationships with women though.  I could be a master manipulator when I wanted to be. There are things I have done in the past that I now wish I hadn’t but I must acknowledge they were part of my own learning process and got me here where I am today.  It takes a lot of effort to be 100% true to your convictions and there are times when we fail.  Things aren’t always black and white.

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The last few days my phone calls with Amy have been pretty short.  There’s never much to report on my side and work on our house has slowed somewhat now.

I’ve been thinking about this period of time that I’ve been in Adelaide, away from Amy.  It’s never felt like you imagine a long distance relationship to be.  The goal we are working towards keeps us bound together completely.  Just because we don’t see each other every day doesn’t mean we are not together.  This is helped by our own securities, something that I may not have had the strength to contemplate when I was younger though.

I am already visualising looking back on this time as some kind of dream.  It’s just something I’m doing rather than something I’m being.  It was a bit of struggle before and during Christmas but with the turn of the new year, it finally feels like a countdown to the realisation of our plans.

Writing up the diary entries for 1994 has made me think about why I don’t really enjoy Christmas and new year celebrations.  I’m not a big birthday or holiday celebrator in the first place and have often been alone at these times but looking back at the events at the end of 1993 I wonder how much of an impact they have made on my psyche.  It’s not something I’ve really consciously considered for a long time.  It’s also not that I mind joining in celebrations either, though I don’t find anything particularly special about certain dates to participate in them – let’s enjoy ourselves every day.  A cliche, I know.

 

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