Tag Archives: writing

Word Less

Its funny, how I had four months off, and I decided not to write anything here.

Its funny, how I have to make myself write.

When you are in habit, you realise why you love what you love. Like fitness, regular hang outs with friends and loved ones. Writing. When you leave it be for a while you miss it, and you feel guilt for not investing. Funny thing, guilt.

I met with a friend today. Him and his partner have been one of my major inspirations. His partner passed away last year and the forty years they shared together ended in this life for now. He has lived such a colourful life so far, and his partner’s life was similar so. The bond and the commitment is something I aspire to have. I hope to have. It was privilege enough to have witnessed it with others.

The love I have found, and that is growing, has the potential. And to even experience that is a gift.

Stop using short sentences Edwin. And stop talking in third person.

So again, I am no longer word less.

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Skunks and Coconut Coffee

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I have been and gone. Travelled across North America, via car, boat, bus, plane and train. And it was incredible. It felt complete and I felt so relaxed, so inspired.

OK now the contrived sentences are out of the way…  I fell over onto a lady with my iced tea on the train, I was too scared to paddle board on the lake in Seattle, but redeemed myself in a much shallower lake (about 1 foot deep) later in the trip in Maine. I was given a T-shirt with my face printed on it as a gift. I wrote about 10 postcards, paid for postage, but then never posted them. I sat and watched San Francisco buses asleep at 1am, in their parking lot. I drank so many iced coffee and coconut milk beverages, I smell like a bounty with a hint of arabica beans. I read all the accreditation of the people from the cuddle shop in Portland, Oregon. I said hello to my first skunk by English Bay in Vancouver, and my first chipmunk at Crater Lake. We got along, to the extent I usually get along with wild animals.

(Breath)

I walked through a park at 9am on a Sunday in LA, and was the only one awake, and one semi-awake person dressed up like a Starbucks worker. I sat in a dining car travelling across North Dakota with an Amish couple, learning about their world. I filled my wallet with many one dollar bills, that I awkwardly pulled out and handed bar staff a lot. I read six graphic novels, for the first time. I slept on a sailboat in Seattle. I got to know my friend Jim much better, I got to know a black beetle more so. A cat and I exchanged sleepy nods in North California.

Now I am back. Many choices ahead, and do I get a puppy?

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Empty Lot.

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The carpark sat there silently, beside the dark brick building. Inside the car, he merged with the faded vinyl seat. he wasn’t ready. Obedience is what was overpowering him. Guilt and obedience. Leaving the warmth of the car and many other secrets.

Knocking on the dull door, his acne scars is what he noticed first. Tony, in his 50’s. Walking in, he had expected to sit on a couch, to complete the cliche, but he was offered a seat in an old desk chair.  Throughout the session, he would sub-consciously he fiddled with the height adjuster, that ignored him, broken.

“Your mum has mentioned you wanted to talk”

“Yeah, I need to”

“That’s great to hear. Really good. The first step is the hardest, and you have already done that”

“I just dont know what the next step is.”

“That is where I come in. I have dealt with this many times, for many years. You can be rest assured you are not alone”.

Tony had the notepad. And the writing that he could not read upside down. I didnt want him writing things. Things I didnt know.

“I have worked through many different struggles with people, mate. From child sex offenders to prostitutes. I spend most my week in the prison system, so much change and reward there.”

I dont think he asked Tony for his CV. But it felt good to know he wasn’t alone, perhaps.

“Martin, I am sure it is all very overwhelming. We dont need to talk about everything all at once. Let’s start in one little corner.” Tony’s voice was calm, but the calm a pool closed for the winter would be, way too cold. Way too still. And this corner he spoke of, was where a naughty kid should be sent.

He swallowed. Then breathed. This is where he had to jump in.

“Well, I just have got to a point where I never want to hurt. Hurt anyone else, most importantly. And God has led me to be honest outside, not just inside.”

Here is where the lies were about to start.

——-

Walking back to the carpark, did he feel any better? Mum was already back at the car. She had a slight smile on. “Don’t worry mate, you are doing the right thing”.

“It was fine Mum. I know it feels right.”

“Good mate, good.”

The slight smell of cigarette smoke hung there. Mum had been doing it again.

The car began moving onward to home. The steep hill made no difference to the speed. Cruising silently, there was a lot that could be said but the words lay inside. Each bend in the darkness, wrapped around them, mother and son.

 

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Weekender

Weekenders remind us we have so much more to live for. Went to a getaway last weekend, to a beautiful part of the world, the Great Ocean Road. Had a house overlooking the ocean and we felt the coming winter coolness, jammed with the warm lingering sun. Celebrating birthdays and just good company.

OK enough of that, it sounds like the opening to one of those articles where you want to rip the page in half but you cant, because it is an online article. So you close the window with a slow click, to get more satisfaction.

But yes, good weekend.

I have finally found the story I want to write. And it was in front of me the whole time. I have given myself until December to have the first draft complete. I am having so much fun with it. I have dropped to four days a week in my job, to give myself one day a week dedicated to it. It felt really adult doing that, as it is a financial sacrifice so I better get something out of it. Which I am. Its like reading a book you cannot put down, but it doesnt have an ending yet, the words appear in the book. Like the Never-Ending Story, but hopefully there is an ending.

Speaking of.. here is a photo of a cake with Falcor from Never-Ending Story.

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Ute

I sat at the top of the cliff, looking down the green hill to the crashing waves below. You could see the white caps spraying. The wind was a little strong, it nudged my car gently, letting me know it was there. Turning, I looked down the winding road that kissed the edge, and saw a white ute driving towards me. It was you. It had to be you.

I turned back to the water, though the gravel let me know you had pulled up. I opened my car door, and felt the wind embrace me, a cool old friend. Casually, I looked over, as you got out of your car. There you were, hello.

Looking back at me, your dark features, gentle, reserved but honest face nodded hello. Walking around towards me, you stretched out your hand and shook mine. I felt the warmth, like the gentle glow of embers in a quiet fire.

Without having to prompt, we both grabbed our day packs, and began our adventure. Having no idea it wasnt just the path ahead of us that day, that we were to go on.

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A Decade

I never knew it would go by this quickly. You tell yourself when you are 5, “wow I am going to be 15 in 10 years!!!”. Then when you are 15, you imagine yourself at 25, and you cannot. Then at 25, you stop thinking about it.

Today marks ten years since my writing in this blog began. And also the day family changed a lot, and this isn’t going to be an entry about sadness and pain. It is about how after ten years, so many can grow, learn and forgive. I never thought it would fly by. But it does, no matter how cliche that sounds.

A lot of the story, is not my own and so I won’t go into details, but I am so proud of where we have all come to. There are moments of sadness or pain, but overall we all get that life is too short and the main thing to do is focus on love. That’s all you need right?

I found this today, written a year after everything happened. My journal, and sometimes you just want to talk to your young self and just smile. They were on the right path.

Ok its my bed back at home in Brixton now. The holiday is over.  I had a very hardcore weekend really, but was a good boy. Im just proud im beyond all the crap that can go on at a club or bar, I can sit back and watch so much and just, don’t understand the craziness around me.  It was a year now, since Mum went. How do I feel? That was a lifetime ago and then also at the same time, last week. I can taste the salt tears in my mouth that ran down my cheek when I went out on the balcony that day, to call Heather, tell her my mum just left. Struggling to breathe, I’m glad I got to cry again today, it means I’m not hiding my feelings. I feel so free in that, I am not what I feared I would be. Every aspect of my life has changed, but I am still Lloyd. I am getting over so much. I realise that because I am becoming more of who I love to be, someone who people can come to and I can support them and help them. When everything happened, I let go of that and did stuff for myself.  I will keep enough room for my own things too, but also part of who I am is listening and encouraging. Like even last night, hearing Jamie’s new boyfriend go on about his fears, after he just claimed he had no fears, I got to challenge him, help him. I know God likes to do that through me, and its where I feel at home.

I can feel the strength in me regaining. But also there is a new aspect of me, I am open to being weak and letting people know I can be, and rely on others for once, in a good way. And also the fear of people finding out horrible things about me, that might change how they see me, its all so, not worth it. So not worth it.

I found out Hadleigh was sick and this instinct clicked into gear of really wanting to look after him. Never had that with a guy, it scared me to be honest, cause I didn’t know that could happen to me, like scared in not a negative way, but more, just reminded there is a lot of hope. Don’t’ know how else to explain it.

But if I am being honest, there is still the thing inside of me, feeling very vulnerable, expressing how I feel or think. The thing inside of me that is like a protection, is the assumption that who I open up to, will go weird on me and close up. Then I am left where I was left so often. And it gets harder if there is a next time, to open up to the next person.

So there are more thoughts.

Normal life in London is back now for 4 weeks, then I fly out home. I am looking forward to it.

Edwin Jones. London, UK. 14/05/06 4:14pm GMT

Reading this nine years later. Man I love that I wrote and keep writing. It is such a rewarding experience.

Happy Mother’s Day.

10 years, since I was 21 and when things changed.

10 years, since I was 21 and when things changed.

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The Dry

This time of year, we usual feel quite dry here in Melbourne. There can be hot days, filled with a strong, hot wind. Summer can seem not as great as when you were longing for it 6 months earlier. Fortunately I work by the ocean, and so I get to at least embrace that summer vibe everyday, walking by the water and simply observing all of us soaking in the dry. And then jumping in the wet, even if briefly. St Kilda Seaside.

I guess at the moment, I feel dry. My mind is wanting to express, yet how to do that and where, is such a cliche and boring set of questions. That hot wind is pushing the desire away, taking it somewhere. So I will just shut that up, and keep writing. We should all stop those sorts of feelings. Especially when there is no reason not to talk, not to write, not to just share. You never know who may need to hear it. Or for example, I just started looking around at the detail, capturing and enjoying it. Sipping a bad coffee. Here is 2015.

St Kilda Boards

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There Once Was a Little Bear

I was searching through my mac for a random word, when up came 100s of emails from my Mail. Then I discovered this, and I have no memory until now, of actually writing this. I wont edit it or change it. But I wrote it based on my own story when I first was coming out. It was titled, “Bedtime Story”.

Bear cub forest

There once was a little bear. He lived in a town a little way from the big city and enjoyed the wild forest around him.

He would go off by himself, and explore, because he felt different from the others. He would fill his mind with many fun adventures.

Pirates and wizards and monsters and space ships. The other bears would make sure he felt different, by always laughing at him or not making friends with him. Though he seemed happy enough and his family loved him.

Though one day, he decided the town was not where he belonged. And packed his bags and walked far far away.

On his journey he met many funny characters. In the woods he met a squirrel. He had never seen one before and found it most curious.

The bear told him he was from a long long way from here and the squirrel asked him many questions. The bear wasn’t used to someone taking so much interest in him, and found it most peculiar.

It was getting dark, so the squirrel had to say goodbye and head home, but the bear didn’t mind. He just smiled. He had made a friend.

Finally the bear got to a great city. It was much bigger than the city that lay by his town at home. He stood in awe at the bustling place. He found some lodging and settled in.

He would venture out every now and then, timidly at first, but then when he noticed people walked by and didn’t look at him, he walked with a slight spring in his step. He soon got courage to talk to people. The other bears would be polite back, and some would make conversation. The bear thought this was great. No one knew him but he was beginning to make friends.

Eventually Bear had many friends, and was constantly hanging out with them. The days of the forest and his imagination dimmed.

Though he had many friends, he still felt alone. Like no one fully understood him. But he didn’t dwell on it much because it wasn’t a feeling he had in words.

One day, he and his friend Rat were having lunch. Rat spoke up and said he knew of a friend once who grew up in a large plain surrounded by mountains.

He gave Bear his address and Bear wrote to him, to say hello. The other bear wrote back, the following day. He told of his life in the plains, and how he moved to the north, away from where he grew up, and the adventures he had gone on.

The letter arrived and Bear smiled as he read it, nodding and understanding all he wrote. He wrote back, and this begun a correspondence, two bears who understood each other.

Many moons past and Bear had finally made his way to the land of the long white cloud. Many adventures had gotten him there, and the next thing that felt right to do, was to travel there, and visit the other Bear finally.

He made his way out of the port and there was the other Bear, grinning. They gave each other a big bear hug and went on many adventures together.

The time came for Bear to leave. He didn’t want to feel alone again, but he had to go. Time wasn’t allowing. But they reminded each other, their lives had had a hole filled in them, that they didn’t think would ever be filled.

No matter what happened, they had a best friend in each other.

The boat sailed, and the last image Bear had of the other bear, was his paw on his heart, smiling. Knowing that the adventures had only just begun.

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Keep startin at 30.

I type a paragraph, then it saves as a draft and then I go and watch a TV show. Then a month goes by.

I sit down, write another paragraph and then I have to like someone’s post and then read my newsfeed.

My 30th birthday goes by. A few months go by. For some reason writing isn’t as easy as it comes sometimes and I like to talk about that often because it is easier than ACTUALLY writing.

My mum gave me a 30th birthday card with a meerkat on it.

I like to write along one line of thought, because it saves the 1000’s of thoughts rushing at once. I can trace with my finger along one line of thinking, and let it flow. Though which one to choose.

I can leave my house happy if I know I have written something down. So often I leave my house unhappy.

This morning I found document after document of my thoughts from early 2000’s, mostly about the time when lots of change was happening. I am proud of my writing and thankful to my 21 year old self for writing. Because he gives me perspective, he reminds me of where I am now and also encourages me for my own future. 30 is an awesome number and a great age. A sense of self is something everyone has and we all misjudge how much we are truly aware of our own self, though we also overestimate some areas that we think are true, when they are not. About who we are, how we act or process things. 30 has always been there, up there, for someone who is under 30. Same with 40 or 50 or.. 100. You just assume it will always be there, and then you ARE that number. And you are slightly pressured to assess what that number feels like. The same as the number before?

Anyways, thanks 30. No pressure to be anyone else but me. May the stories continue.

Lloyd Falling Water

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Mandarin Peel

Is it just me or did you hate mandarins as a kid? I used to hate them especially at school. Mums across the country and probably the world thought they were such a handy piece of fruit to add to a lunchbox. They were healthy, “yummy” and kids got to peel them which was a form of exercise,  no? So why did I hate them? Because citric acid in the eye bloody hurts. Kids would sneak up on each other, reach around in front of your face with a mandarin peel and squeeze it. ACID!! Hilarious. Please speak up if this didn’t happen to you as a child. Maybe I was one of the only ones to experience this. Wait, did I get bullied at school?

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I moved house this weekend. And I say house, because I mean HOUSE. Not an apartment block that you share with 40 other people, who you either ignore or smile awkwardly to. The even better news is, that I didn’t break anything when I moved. Not even a backpack, or a basket of scissors. Impressive and smooth. I can add to this actually.  EVEN better than that is the move was across the street from my old place. How good is life. Had some awesome mates help carry everything across and now its the task of fitting all our stuff into an even larger space. It is missing a tree house though. Looking to see if this can be arranged.

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