Email to Chelsea

Hey Miss Chelsea, how awesomely awesome to hear from you again! What a shame that my confession of our 'flirting' got you hiding under your pin cushion - though I must point out you got the order of the breaths mixed up, in case that makes any difference.

Funny you should mention your fly - my last book was a book of short stories and poems and in there was a story called "I Spy With My Little Fly" about a man who drives his car to the cliff's edge and thinks back to the time he fell in love with a fly (which is me falling in love with a fly on a beach in Mexico; don't know if you remember that). The book's called "in the land of the balloon-shaped monkeys" - which is the opening line to this song of mine:

In the land of the balloon-shaped monkeys
The monkey-shaped balloon is king
So said the mad-headed sage
Molly Mickomackomustard
Then she sat on something
But I said Molly I know you know
And I need for you to tell me
What is the nature of my own self?
This universe and life and God
Well how-ow can it be-e-e?

Well son, she said, and she sat on my knee
You know the answer is clear
Just start where you are
And be yourself
And who knows? Maybe one day you'll get here
But - oh, o-oh oh, oh oh oh oh
I don't know what that means
I need to know the future now
What why where when who and how
And just how on Earth am I supposed to be?

Monkey monkey, she said

(And then she says "monkey" lots; there's a video on facebook, I think, of me singing it with my ex)

Anyway...

Does that mean you're living in Guelph? Or is it a correspondence course? I'm guessing the latter. Did you know I used to live in Guelph? For one year. And that I woulda stayed if I could. And that the job I had there - working in an office in shirt and tie for the Canadian government - is the only job I didn't want to leave? But me visa was up and time dictated otherwise, oh well. I thought for a long time I'd end up in Canada - but oh well there too: London's treating me pretty good these days, all groovy in the house of manly love and the restaurant job's just swell: we had a housewarming party recently and I made a bonfire on the roof. How cool is that? Also, the other day I was in the bath and Tom (the Lithuanian; no, I didn't know you were Lithuanian) said, hey man, I wanna brush my teeth. I was gonna pass him his stuff but then he said, ah, just let me come in - and I thought, fuck it, so I did. And he brushed his teeth and we chatted while I lay in the bath (on my side). How doubly cool is that? He's a fun chill boy not too bothered with inhibitions - which is good for an inhibitioned Englishman like me. :-)

Also: to bring you up-to-date and, perhaps, complete with the whole 'Sophie thing' - well, I wrote her a letter recently, deciding to get everything off my chest in the absence of her actually having the balls to do a face-to-face meet - and she wrote back weirdly and upsettingly saying basically she thought I was like some stalker-type (for still having feelings several years since) and that I shouldn't bother her anymore. Plus other things besides. Anyways, I guess I was looking for something in there that would help me 'move on' - and though it wasn't quite the way I expected it to happen, I guess it worked - 'cos it reminded me of how unpleasant and harsh she can be and I suppose my head finally realised, "why would you want to chase that around? you deserve better, boy, you're just not seeing things clearly/thinking straight." Et voila! Move on I have. So now I'm young free and single not just in reality but in my head too. :-)

You know, it's funny, I've kinda stopped it with the emails the last several months - keeping things closer to home, more in the real world - and I haven't been able to write about anything to my distant chums for a while now. But there's something about sitting here with you in my mind that makes this writing/sharing/expressing fun and easy. Maybe because you gave me permission to be all nonsensical - which is pure candy to my happy heart and mind. Liberation. And freedom. And because you were nonsensical back (I loved your little poem - made me jealous of your way with words). Well here's to a lovely penpal relationship! Even with the months and years in between, sometimes.

Isn't it a shame that Christians are so into that Christian thing? And what I mean by that is: it's the predominant religion of our countries; we, as spiritual people, want to be in that spiritual vibe; sometimes it's hard to find people who are into it; but finding Christians and Christian gatherings is easy; and they're generally really lovely and happy sorts; and it's nice to be around them, and a great way to make friends, and they often do really cool things too; but, at the end of the day, there'll always come that moment where our differing fundamental dogma-beliefs come up and, alas, there doesn't seem to be much getting around it (or if it doesn't come up, it's always there - at least in my head it is); and it is a shame 'cos what are beliefs compared to heart and love and shared experiences and kindness and just being together in a lovely place where we're always basically digging the same things anyways. I mean, I'm sort of alone in my spirituality these days - but I likes going to church, and dig most of it, but will always feel the outsider for my inherent Buddhist Hindu New Age beliefs and my exposure to other things, etcetera (which is, again, perhaps just a belief in my head). I dunno - I have in recent years come across some fairly enlightened and wicked Christians (always most welcoming when it comes to football and quizzes and dinners and stuff) who have embodied a more modern belief that, "ours is not the only way, ours is just another way" - which I dig - but...well, I dunnno, I can't quite put my finger on it. I guess I just wished they/we could put Love and God first, and Jesus second (a wicked example of how to be cool) and then forget all about Paul - 'cos most Christian church things seem to me to be about Paul (or the Old Testament) and, cool though some of that stuff is, I don't really rate it in comparison to the J-man ("let he is without sin cast the first stone" - how amazingly quick-witted and perfect is that (in an under pressure situation)?) Well maybe I should try a church again - I always did enjoy a good hymn - and see what I find this time. Have quite fancied the Alpha group on occasion (and not just for the friends and hotties) - if nothing else, a great place to spout my theories and ideas, which is always a pleasure. Have you read Conversations With God, by the way? There's my Bible right there. (Though really just the first three, maybe four books, and the last one, Home With God - which is really truly mind-blowing, and quite liberating too) (Did I ever tell you I was thinking of writing a new version of The Bible? How crazy and heretical is that!? :-))

Here are 12 things I haven't yet done in my life, but would like to:

1. Go to Israel and wander around the desert, seeking
2. Have a totally life-transforming mystical experience
3. Meet an awesome woman and make a little person
4. Write a book that sells in the tens of thousands
5. Go to New Zealand
6. Own a house
7. Drive a 1972 Ford LTD and not crash it
8. Conquer laziness, insecurity, overreaction and tightness
9. Understand God, and Love
10. Have a celebrity girlfriend
11. Make it to the Herne Hill Velodrome
12. Score an overhead kick in a competitive game of football

I dig that it's pretty short: it really is about all I'd like to do at this moment in time. I guess I've been pretty lucky in my life in that, when I've wanted to do something I've generally done it. And that I haven't wanted too much, or wanted things that were too far out of reach. Number 1 I might try and do this winter, work permitting (which work always does - so I guess I mean "me permitting"). 2 is out of my hands, as perhaps is 3 and 9 and, maybe, 12 (certainly it'll take a massive amount of grace and divine favour to make the overhead kick happen - Lord knows I've tried enough times on my own!) 4 - well that's perhaps out of my hands too. Though I've three ideas for books stewing, and I suppose actually knuckling down and writing them might help there (hence 8). 5 I guess I'll get onto when I've done Israel and written at least one more book (which'll earn me freedom). Owning a house is something I sometimes think about but, given my tendency towards digging free time and freedom as opposed to earning money it's probably not a real true deep down desire (there's always the lottery/mythical book success thing). And, blah blah blah, I've suddenly realised this email is getting ridiculously long, and horribly self-indulgent, and now I'm thinking it's time to wind it up. But - do you have a list of things you'd like to do/things you're pretty sure you will do at some point, when the opportunity arises/you get around to it? Well if so, I'd sure like to hear about it.

You sound well, in the little picture you've painted of your days. Is the schoolyard thing a possibility to happen? Or is it kind of a pure assignment thing? Or maybe a little bit of both. I'm happy to hear you're doing something that you're lovin'.

And I must confess: I don't think I got what you were laying down with the chicken thing - though I've imagined several scenarios, all of which I think my head has conspired to make about me, and not in a non-flattering way either. Perhaps you could explain? Or better with the lights off? (Gotta say: I'm a lights on kinda guy)

Lots of love to you and yours, your Chelseaness. Big hug!
Rorro

Email to Brittney

Ha! Yes! Love it! And!

First things first: had to refresh my mindcogs about the Hendrix quote and realised I'd got it totally wrong/right and actually meant to say "I choose the latter" - which is perhaps a little different. But, yes, both - of course. Who would have it any other way? Or, rather, who could?

Although I don't seem to need love to feel confused! lol!

Now then, now then, I reckons it will be too hard to address all your issues which I read was it only yesterday? so I'll quickly scroll up and down - there; took about fourteen seconds - and reacquaint myself with what comes to mine eyes and in there I see stuff about Derren Brown and New Ageism and me and a castle and you and a two string guitar and to that I say, Yes! Play on! And - you beast! How could you break two strings at once? I didn't even know that was humanly possible - although...even though I haven't broken a string in well over a decade I remember breaking them all the time as a teenager, which can only lead to the scientifically-proved conclusion that you and my fourteen-year-old self are actually the exact same person and, you know, it sounds kind of crazy, of course, but when I look back and think about those days and also those days before that (aged seven, running round crazy with a spiderman mask on trying to get kisses off of girls already in double digits) I think I always suspected something like this might happen; yes, of course I am a crazy typer and words can just muffle their way out of my tipsy-toes and onto your bacon slabs of ears but, please don't go saying things about "my fine mystery" because it will only make me want to gaze at you for several hundred hours at a consecutive stretch and then where will we be? I mean, who will make the tea? I mean, is there even a kettle that big available?

So I was thinking about how I've never been on a date with anyone and then my friends showed me a picture of a pretty girl and I said, oh, she's pretty, and they said, you should email her and ask her out. And then I was like, no, no, I could never do that - and then I was like, but if I did I'd probably say all manner of stupid things and spill all the beans about how it probably wasn't such a good idea because she'd only realise one day that I'm not as cool as I initially appear and somewhere down the line we'll end up arguing and winding each other up and so probably best not to get anything started anyways - which is perhaps not the best way to invite someone to dinner, though I'm not sure I wanted to anyway. Also, none of that ever happened - it's just a thought and an idea that I've had and maybe one day it could be a song or a short story although I'm sure there's something similar to it in the movie Trainspotting when the young Scottish girl first meets Ewan McGregor (and now that I type that I'm probably like, oh yeah, I didn't even think it up, I just nicked it by subconscious accident).

Anyways, there wasn't much reason to say all that except that when someone says, "write me nonsense" I feel almost inexplicably bound to express every little thing that appears in my brain . Like:

"You know, it's probably good in the long run that you got that kidney infection down in Baja 'cos if you'd come by the hot springs I would've only put a move on you - freed from the shackles of Craig - and, to be frank, my moves really aren't that good. Although they sort of are."

- that sort of thing.

Oops. As usual, like Michael Stipe, I've said too much: truth is, I suppose, I'm feeling a need to talk to someone, having realised that I'm already not happy in my new castle environs in Kent and wondering what the hell I'm doing here and even thinking of quickly escaping back to Guatemala and Israel and isn't it all rather strange, this inability to be in one place, I really do worry about where my life is heading sometimes.

Oops again! Too much truth - probably I should get back to nonsense:

Like screaming babies. Like things I'm not interested in. Like the impossibility of feeling always wonderful every moment of the day.

Sorry. That wasn't nonsense.

Listen: did you ever look over an octopus's shoulder while he was doodling in a phonebook and suddenly get the feeling that the octopus was actually you and the ink he was doodling with contained the entirety of creation multiplied an infinite times over in every little drop?

Or have you ever wondered why it's illegal for a squirrel and a badger to marry in almost every country in the world, Stockholm excepted?

Or what about the time you caught yourself sliding down the back of an armchair and had to construct a blue and green flag from granny's leftover tissues in order to bring attention to yourself, even though an entire television studio audience were sitting right by you in Martin T. Grangeworth's second favourite teapot?

Well, those are the sort of things that concern me.

Although now I'm wondering whether typing drivel is really the best thing for me.

I'm not happy! I don't like England! It's too cold! I don't know what to do with my life! lol

All the above, of course, is a joke.

Best wishes, and a jolly warm handshake, with fondest regards, and wishing you all the best in your future endeavours,

Rory