When I was a kid, I wanted to be a wrestler. After that initial decision had lost some of its charm, I decided on being a historian, then a builder, a gardener, a painter, and finally, in my twenties, a writer. Truth be told, the idea of being a writer seemed a lot more appealing in my head than it turned out to be. I saw myself being some bohemian living in London spending my days in bars and diners people watching and flirting with beautiful women while creating stories and books to destroy the minds of millions. The reality has been somewhat less attractive. My obsessive pursuit of writing has seen me mess up every relationship I’ve been in as well as lose friends. It’s seen me work bum job after bum job not wanting to get sucked into a comfortable lifestyle with years spent trying to figure out just what I wanted to say. I’ve taken a different path from those I used to be close to, and not a day goes by when I’ve regretted the choices I’ve made. While others have settled down, I’ve moved further away in search of a state of being I’m sure exists but of which I have little proof. It’s a lonely ride, and yet my growing body of work is something I’m immensely proud of. The first journal I hold close to my heart because it stands as a testament to my determination in not giving up. If I had to describe it, it would be a kiss. The second journal I intend to be more like a fuck. Although a small part of me wishes to have done things differently, there’s a certain perverse pleasure to be had in going against the grain and standing firm in what one believes in.
The first journal consisted of selected prose from a period of two years between January 2014 to January 2016. The second is in the process of being edited with content created from February 2016 to February 2017 and should be released later in the fall titled A Journal for Damned Lovers Volume 2: Dog Days. The last piece I wrote, Shimmering Substance, will form the ending of ‘Dog Days’, and I think the final few sentences sums up my current frame of mind and the focus of the second journal.
“Let us chase the night so never again will we wake with regret on our lips. It’s so easy to forget who and what we used to be, but there is a light, and as long as it keeps shining, there’s a place where the likes of us can dance with abandon safe in the knowledge that tomorrow will never come.”
I hope you stick with me. It is indeed a lonely ride, but it will alway be a beautiful one x