9 January Make a Move. making it

Tonight has been a night for revelations...yes indeed, and while they're intensely personal, and probably too private to be boasted here, I know how sick and voyeuristic the internet is, and unless I share them here, I'm not sure I'll be given the opportunity to say it elsewhere. All I ask is that noone bring up anything I say here with anyone else except me. In fact, this is a disclaimer, a pledge to secrecy...if you read this, please don't make a personal judgement on me as a result, and don't do the whole "Let's bug Tim's family members about it either", because that would truly hurt me. What I'm about to say concerns a conversation I had with my dad tonight. All of the ideas that are now spinning through my head regard that same conversation, but before I begin, I think I should share a completely irrelevant picture with you to ease the tense atmosphere I've no doubt created, and to expose myself to the world oncemore in the voyeuristic fashion that I've come to know and love. I know it's no black pimp in a green suit, but it will have to do for now...

Look at my circumstance
And the bulge in my big big big big big big big big big big big big big big big...

Hi there! Quite enough of that, and back to the topic at hand, that had left my find so full 'o scorpions. Tonight I was talking to my dad, and he was giving me the standard "You treat me, my daughter and my wife like shit, you're so unfair to me," treatment. I...well I refute this vigorously. It holds an element of truth, but for the most part, I do my best to get on with all of these people. Unfortunately, it led onto my dad pulling out the old "Ahh godammitall" line (usually indicating that not everything is going well in his life). I spent a long time trying to get him to tell me what was wrong, and he finally relented, saying "Well, you must have noticed that Christine (my step-mum) and I haven't been getting on for the last year or so, but I really don't want to separate." This was shocking, though it's not the first time he's said such a thing...

Nonchalantly I responded, "Well, actually it's been going on a lot longer than a year as far as I know, and hasn't been particularly worse this time." Okay, some background: In the Christmas holidays at the end of form 2 (that would be 1997) I went to some trashy northern rural destination with my dad, brother, step-mum and half sister. One night, my dad came back the the motel, only to pronounce in conversation, "Well, you've finally got what you wanted, haven't you? You've split Christine and I apart...choke on it." (that is a supremely edited version of the hour long relentless assault in which he hurled a chair at me, kicked around and broke plastic motel furniture and basically went as angry as I've ever seen him in my life, leaving me a snivelling wreck). So yeah, I've provided background enough? Ever since that particular drunken episode, I've had this perception that he blames most of his marital problems on me. It's okay. I'm actually used to this. I can take it.

Now, tonight he wasn't quite so ready to blame it all on me. Amongst problems he listed myself and my brother, and my half-sister. If there's one thing that does divide them, it's Tessa. She's a spoilt little bitch, and generally regarded as a problem child. Myself and my brother were nothing like this, and as a 50 year old father of a 7 year old daughter, I think my dad is genuinely defeated by the young sproggin. Anyway, with the conversation becoming steadily more depressing, I led it onto something that I actually care about, something a lot closer to my heart. To be honest, I can't be fucked caring about my dad's current marriage. I care about his happiness, and I care for my half-sister...I know how a divorce could affect her (god knows it has affected me and provided a convenient scapegoat for all problems in my life) and I don't want to see her fucked around in the same way. Then again, I don't want her growing up in an unhappy household...lose-lose situation? I think so. Whatever the case, I digress...I want to talk about what the conversation went onto discuss.

With Dad placing his marital problems on his children with his current marriage, I asked him about the major factors causing the break-up between my mother and him. Phew! Taboo? Well, it shouldn't be. Unfortunately my Mum is always too worried about protecting me (uh, thanks Mum...I do love you) that she will never speak straight to me. My Dad was more forthcoming. When I pointed out that he was blaming us for his current marital problems and I couldn't help feel we must have played a huge role between my mother and him, he assured me we did not. He told me over and over what great kids my brother and I were, and it brought warm fuzzies from the inside...in plentitude. My Dad is really difficult to get compliments out of, and is generally detached, crappy and distant (as his father was to him...what a royal fuck-up), but this made my day. He then went onto say how his break-up with my Mum was primarily his fault. It was he who exiled my family to an "idyllic rural upbringing" in Waiuku (which I know my Mum never would have wanted particularly) as he pursued a job as a rural doctor. He told of the immense pressures of caring for an entire town and being so renown in such a small, isolated, weird and bitchy community...I almost felt sorry for him. This put him in huge stress, and apart from extra-marital affairs (am I supposed to forgive you there, Dad?) he treated my Mum and my family like total shit. He was entirely detached (sniff...like his father before him) and insisted my Mum be some kind of "Earth Mother" (a role she was prepared to play given her experience with mind-altering drugs, no doubt) that raise us with no concept of luxury...COOL!

Back to the point, he claimed almost full responsibility for that break-up, and while this is typical Gray Family self-deprecation, I couldn't help but feel some sense of closure there. The truth is, my few childhood memories do recall my Dad as a distant asshole. I remember him bellowing "Cease!" and hammering his fist on the breakfast table when things became too talkative for his liking, and there are images of him being cruel that will never leave my mind. And yeah, if you think I'm appealing for pity through this whole excercise, think again. I'm actually sparing my family here, because I could be a lot nastier. I just thought you sick, voyeuristic fucks might care for a little history on Tim. If you think any of this could have had some sort of effect on that "crazy character Tim" you're now accustomed to, you're probably entirely correct. Whatever the case, I dearly hope (yes I do, Tessa) that you live through the general shittiness of your upbringing. When I see that silly, shame-faced smile on your face, filled with insecurity as you try and put forward some front of happiness, a certain Pink Floyd song comes to mind, which shall be my Rumination of the Moment™ for tonight...and hey, maybe I'll show you this diary when you're 20 Tess(bearing in mind I shall be 30 by then)...

If you should go skating
On the thin ice of modern life
Dragging behind you the silent reproach
Of a million tear-stained eyes
Don't be surprised when a crack in the ice
Appears under your feet
You slip out of your depth and out of your mind
With your fear flowing out behind you
As you claw the thin ice.

I'm sorry if that sounded cruel or callous Tess, but I know a look of childhood uncertainty when I see one, and if it makes you feel any better, I think you and I are more alike than I'd admit now. Buh-bye.

3 January One of my turns. mongoose


Day after day, love turns grey
Like the skin of a dying man.
Night after night, we pretend it's alright,
But I have grown older and
You have grown colder and
Nothing is very much fun any more.

And I feel one of my turns coming on.

I feel, cold as a razor blade
Tight as a tourniquet
Dry as a funeral drum.

Don't look so frightened

This is just a passing phase (one of my bad days)

Rumination of the Moment™:"Would you like to learn to fly? Would you like to see me try?" Okay, so never again will I base an entry entirely on Pink Floyd. I'm very, very sorry.

New Year You do it to yourself. amnesiac

Woke up this morning with a wine glass in my hand. Whose wine? What wine? Where the hell did I dine?

Oh my. There shall be no more Peter Frampton. Well my munchkins, tonight I have a tale of despair, hatred, angst and regret to burden you with, the only problem being is that I have entirely forgotten the details. Okay. So I woke up this morning at about 9am with no concept of where I was. Back on Hector's water bed. Okay. Suddenly, it hit me, the grim realisation - I have no memory of anything that happened after 11pm on New Year's Eve. Nothing whatsoever. I've heard stories about myself, yet all of these have only left me craving to know more about what happened. Let it be known: I want my fucking head back.

Umm, despite this, I have a very vivid memory of happenings before 11pm last night, including developments with people...how they made me feel and the like. All in all, it left me feeling today a total emotional wreck. There's nothing that can be done to fix any of it. I'm told that I sat in the corner crying along to The Wall for a good half hour, which is a reflection of how it all made me feel at the time. I have a feeling there is something deeper to it, entrenched into my psyche and digging at my conscience...and that is the reason why The Wall is now making me feel even more crushingly depressed than ever before when I try to listen to it...alas, even now I feel in too much fragile a state to pass comment/judgement on anyone. When I have to rely on asking others to know what happened last night, of being told that it's "for the best that you don't remember", things have reached a sad state indeed. As for the total amnesia, I blame that on my gross alcohol/caffeine consumption COUPLED with the fact I had been up since 5am (a whole 'nother thing I'd like to talk about but don't have the energy to do), which I have deemed to be the most significant factor for my loss of memory. Rambling about midwives? Hah, I actually find that sort of amusing...

What was highlighted last night is that people suck big time. Most people don't care about anyone else but themselves and their stupid ambitions, which they're all too happy to hide only to confide in others...the sort of friendship I want with my friends is unachievable, and my troubled mind has got to the state where it positively haunts me. Unfortunately, I can't always understand what drives or motivates others...Finn mentioned a long time ago this concept of people "setting themselves up for a fall", and ever since I've noticed that sort of behaviour a lot more. Believe me, I do that myself, I put myself in positions where I'm vulnerable and easily hurt...it's not in my best interests to be explicit though. For those of you that got what they wanted out of last night: well done. Rumination of the Moment™:Good luck for next year.

29 December Echoes. early mornin stoned pimp

Today (or the last 24 hours mayhaps?) have truly been quite surreal, and to cut straight to the point, its because I've smoked so much fucking dope. To those of you with moral objections, I apologise. I don't intend to conceal my hobbies from others, and I don't feel a shred of embarassment at using marijuana, either. For those of you who'd choose to preach from a magic book of lies before even experimenting with such a drug, I pity. While I'm not going to pull any "expand your mind" crap on you, last night was an experience to be remembered...if only my short term memory wasn't so fried.

Danny D, Matt, Finn, Alan, Andrew, Scarleeta and I convened at the "pad" of a certain phat hip cat. With plenty of substance to abuse, and a million ideas on how to abuse it, we put together experimental bongs and the like, before settling for simple pipes. Mmm, feel the burn. This behaviour and carry-on eventually resulted in Danny, Matthew, Andrew, Finn and I sitting in Matt's room in the pitch black staring at the ceiling which just happened to be covered in cool glow-in-the-dark stars and moons and the like. This concentrated patch of stickers seemed to expand across the entire world, and though my head felt like it was in a vice, I did enjoy the most bizarre sensation of motion, weightlessness even. "Buzzy".

Listen to this carry-on! This journal really isn't intended as a vessel for this sort of irrelevant trash, and before I began this entry, I had intended on using it as a launching pad to proclaim the merits of my behaviour...something, I don't know what, has totally destroyed any motivation to do so. There ya go. Rumination of the Moment™: "One of these days I'm going to cut you into little pieces".

27 December With or Without You Zang

Well, Christmas seems to have turned out exactly as I planned...a few days of drinking and festivities, followed by a swift plunge into the bowels (how I love that image!) of post-Christmas depression. I guess I got everything I wanted out of it? For those of you who haven't noticed, this is kind of a new philosophy for me. If I can rationalise every experience down to people "getting what they want" out of things, life becomes pleasantly simple and fulfilling. That said, it's rare that every one of every person's ambitions are fulfilled...

I feel like I'm having a much better time than a certain friend or two, which is why (amongst continuing today's movie marathon) I must get in touch with some people I'm slipping away from. I feel so goddamned sentimental...yet not overly sad, and hence guilty. Are people just getting what they deserve, or are they being handed too much? Whatever the case, half of the nations suicides occur between November and January, and I would be very alarmed if anyone I knew became part of those figures...I may sound like a bleeding heart, but I'm ready to "do my bit" while I'm feeling ever so slightly uplifted...the weight of the world seems half it's normal self, and my desire to enjoy life is rubbing off on others even. People are telling me how "healthy" I look (so I'm getting fat, right?) and things that would have seemed depressing or not much fun are regaining their charm. Everything around me is charming in fact. Rumination of the Moment™:"Sheeeyeah! And monkeys might fly out of my butt!" - Damn you Waynes World!

22 December Buzzy, mad or phat? Sambucca

Nothing better than getting drunk with your parents and their friends at Christmas, hmm? Well, to keep this as unincriminating and unembarassing as possible I'll try and make an effort. The main purpose of this entry is to talk about my wee holiday at Waiheke...but before I begin there, let me count the ways in which Sambucca has changed my life. Okay...a spirit, at a sturdy 38%...sweet, smooth and delicious. Three coffee beans, a lighter and voila! Flaming spirits...my god it's beautiful. And if I'm really lucky, I won't wake up and shiver when I hear the word Sambucca either. The friends of my parents, 45 year old ladies, became awfully interested in me all of a sudden, and social lubricant saved the day. Better...much better.

Now onto Waiheke! Oh I have so much to say! Okay, so we went over at 9:30 on Thursday night, and arrived some time after 10. I was going largely with people I didn't know, but this was soon recitifed...it's so fucking weird. After spending so long in Auckland Grammar in a social prison, then being exposed to different people...simple, nice people. It was almost too much. Most of them I'd met before, but a couple of them were strangers...obviously with a spa and all this didn't last too long. Hurrah! Anyway, we arrive in some anonymously-located bach...a very nice bach at that. Beautiful view, huge balcony, large property, pitch black. Perfect night. Finn and I stumble down to the beach, god knows how we find it, and as we head down it, in the very distance we see a familiar uphill road with a street lamp on the corner. Oh my god. Oh my GOD! This is the fateful beach on which Ben Glynn's bach is located...we walk past it (after taking a good 15 minutes to get down the beach). Memories...eww. Up the hill, and before we know it, we're on Katherine Matson's property right outside the door.

It was too much...I don't know...for some reason, I think Finn and I were both fearing for our lives. It was just crazy...this feeling that if only we could be here 6 months ago looking into the then naοve people we were...Don't fuck it up Tim! Be kind to these people. Love them. Stay in contact with them. Don't be an ass. Would those few words have saved my relationships with them? I don't know. But I know that something went horribly wrong that night...and I had a strong urge to rectify that, yet I know it's too late. So...Finn and I leave, both feeling like we've seen a ghost...goddamn it was too much. As we get back down the beach, we walk along, hop on those swings we were on six months ago...and while we both suddenly felt really scared and paranoid, I was trying my hardest to suppress huge, uncontrollable sobs welling up inside me...diminishing them to a pained "Oh God" to ease my conscience. I don't think I've really felt such a cruel mixture of emotions before. I really don't.

So, around 3:45am or something we headed off to bed. Yesterday Finn and I returned and took the the ocean, swimming in that cove we'd gone swimming at 6 months before...again, the memories...putting things in position, affirming my own fuck-ups. Weird. That night, everyone gets drunk on 50% export vodka...I always assumed such potent stuff wasn't available in New Zealand. Well there ya go. Ugh. Then The Three Sisters Grotesque, Waiheke locals, possibly related to Chris and Braydon join us at the bach...I felt such a huge moral objection to these "rans" being picked up like that. It really disgusted me...since then, I've thought that maybe everyone got what they wanted out of it...a little intimate involvement for some guys, and all the alcohol the girls could want. Isn't that what they wanted? Well they seemed to enjoy themselves...I can't say the same for myself, nor the three others that joined me for three hours of spadom to avoid witnessing the gross spectacle. Incriminating pictures shall soon arrive.

The words for the wee holiday, used by EVERYONE there were "mad", "buzzy" and "phat", and while this would have usually annoyed me, I really got used to it, and maybe even started using them just a little. Mad. Hmm yes, so naked by the phone with a tea cosy on my head? I think so. More Linkin Park than I could possibly bear (Finn I am very, very disappointed in you...not really :) and a few good times along the way. Very philisophical...retrospective...buzzy. Rumination of the Moment™: "The road to perfect pasta is a long and scary one." - Thank you Kintaro Oe.

15 December So ya thought ya might like to go to the show? gasp

Tonight is a night that truly and irrefutably wins the title "Worst Night Ever" - for tonight, I would sooner be in the warm arms of Miss Celia Prew being held tightly to her breast in a warm embrace, than have experienced the hell on earth that I was treated to tonight. No, I haven't "lost all respect" for anyone, but I have realised that the majority of you are a bunch of two-faced cowards.

Yup. I figure I start at the start, a long, incriminating narrative if you will. This will give a dead-on account on what happened tonight, and why, as a result, I feel so much different about myself, and certain people than ever before. I'll go into every gory f*cking detail, retell every last moment with the same vividness as the infamous toilet story, yes fuckers. I know you want blood, and I know you want controversy. You probably want a taste of Tim's self-loathing now don't you? Well, you brought it about, so I can only assume you'll take pleasure in it.

My day as I remember it began at Matthew's watching the "Labyrinth". Could anything have been more perfect? "Oh, I don't want to go to xmas in the park and see those girls anyway, how do I get out of it?" I firmly believe noone should rely on me, so I stayed silent and about 6pm over comes tristan to pick Matt up. "Umm yeah we're going to meet Kris and co at Christmas in the Park now" - So, I'm left at Matt's house. Well not as such, I'm left out on the fence with my feet in a puddle. Over come Finn and Robarti (invited earlier) and I break the news. The offer comes up to meet with Andrew and Max (god that guy irritated me) and we're off to xmas in the park. How very nice. We can't come with Kris (your invitation is kaput Robarti!) so maybe we can meet Laura or something or just RUN INTO our friends (who, quite openly I guess, are shunning us).

We get there, a call from Tris! Thank god! He's coming to meet us few wretched and save us from Max Bania's CONSTANT derogatory comments (something along the lines of "you guys are the biggest losers in Auckland"...thanks Max) and perhaps a chance meet with all the gang is ahoy. Kidding aside, I was expected to be led by Tris back to "camp" and spend some time with my best friends of three months (Dec, Jan, Feb) in a somewhat awkward conversation...buh.

But no! Tristan and Matt meet us wretched. If you guys don't want to be offended, don't read on. The preamble is over, I am ready to speak my mind. Tristan...how could you? I have never felt more betrayed in my life. "Oh you guys can't come back to the group because it's kinda stink to Michael and Kris"...Okay, I'm not convinced, I push it a little further. A coordinated defense from Matt and Tristan, a firm "no" in fact. Our company is not wanted (this takes me back a year to date in a situation with Daryl Carr and Andrew LeGrice btw) and we cannot come back. On top of this Tristan, when you are with us, you start making snarky comments like "I sure am glad I came over here to talk to you guys". Thanks a lot Tristan. I guess we should have felt pretty lucky to have even you come over considering I'm not allowed to see the others. These are my best friends of three months! Considering I broke off my relationships with these people at the demand of you guys (Matt/Michael treating me like sh*t.doc forthcoming) it seems a little rich that I am forbidden to even come over and say hello.

HELLO!

Tristan?! What the f*ck? For someone who claims to be independent, to not being the follower of Michael or Kris or concerned with pleasing them, you are denying me the right to SEE these people (who any problems with are largely solved, no doubt). You say you'd rather be independent? You do a f*cking good impression of being a total follower in that case! I have never actually been more disillusioned in my life. You were what, one of two people I know that I still feel are "pure-hearted" and you go and do this? How...how could you? Totally forbid me from coming over. "Shocked".

Matthew, to be honest, I am fully aware of your total loyalty to Michael. While I'm sure he wouldnt be offended at my presence, I am dam*ed well ashamed that you had the mind to exile me from your little group. You know what? Robarti and I may have been struck from the xmas in the park guest list, but wasn't that just because we tried to speak our minds and confront kris about the bach issue? You have just let it simmer, in typical fashion...you havent even spoken a word about it and after many conversation at the start of the year about how I shouldnt try and retain contact with those girls, there you are entertaining Sarah Young and holding her hand like it was Waitangi Eve. That is disillusionment, again. I am convinced I know you and what your like, and while I expect you to respect Kris and Michaels wishes to the point of losing independent thought ("Respect, thats what its about" - Quoted from Matt treating me like sh*t.doc, a widely distributed icq history) I don't expect you to be such a f*cking hypocrite.

So to cut out the emotive crap, the tale of me running home soaking wet in tears, I will honestly say, to you (and yeah, admittedly mainly you Tristan) how could you do this? This is taking social exclusion to extremes...this is encouraging resentment...all the things you stand against. I can hear the fireworks in the distance as I type, and I can confidently say, that if I hadn't made that break home, I would be in intensive care right now...another minute with Max Bania and I would be a smudge on a nearby road by now.

You guys, your little exclusive group puts so much emotional burden on all those involved. So much social expectation. You guys have lost individual thought, clear judgement, goodwill and credibility. What went on tonight at Christmas in the Park tonight was too much.

And before someone launches into a huge fu*king offensive or even replies, let me advise you against it. You wanted to see someone bleed huh? You want to see them get what they deserve? You want fu*king controversy? Here it is. Choke on it.

14 December Some Sunny Day friendlessness

How I adore Snakes and Ladders! Well my friends, I figured I'd best post what I wrote up at the bach, however I'm afraid it is a sad contrast to how I feel at this moment. For a brief look at The Forum of Kings will irrefutably prove how bad people are...I believe we represent perfectly a demographic which I'm ashamed to be part of. Such is life. My life hangs in limbo as I wait for the affirmation of love and trust I have for certain people, while others have earned my permanent resentment. I can't help but feel that suicide would just fix all. Well, I guess I can't act on my own behalf so selfishly at this point in my life...but please people, if I ever become like Michael, my parents, or anyone else who I hate in this world, euthanase me. Rumination of the Moment™: This is not how I am.

9 December I've got a little black book with my poems in demeaned

Tonight, my precious, I write to you from the hallowed halls of Kris' bach, on top of my bed actually, scrawling into my diary under the light of a maglite (in convenient CANDLE mode). Jonny is snoring like a pig. I'm sorry I can't come up with anything much more eloquent, but he has been talking to me in bed for like the last 3 hours. Exhaustion is consuming me, yet the promise of more DOA2 in the morning hardly makes waking up a worthwhile excercise. To sleep forever, it would truly seem bliss. Perhaps its just the romantic spirit of the Mahurangi Bay but I don't feel I've ever felt more complete in my life. Fruitful walks with my best friend, the serenity of the area, and the ability I'm empowered with to totally forget modern life. Built by Graham Overton with his bare hands! This place has character, and allergies to boot. The dust in this room is so ferocious that my companion has been blowing and sniffing non-stop for the past 3 hours. 6 beers this evening - comfortably drunk, but wearing off into mere tiredness.

I guess the sensation of inner peace which consumes me now is just a reflection of how well I feel about my friends at the moment. I love the way I can argue without provoking resentment or ill-feeling, and I remember that all the time I'm being shouted down and yelled at, irrationality is something we all fall victim to occasionally...ahhh, thank the creator for the huge weaknesses inherent in mankind. Thanks a fucking lot. I don't think I've felt more spiritually charged than when I was walking around the rocks with Jonny today in the eye of the gentle drizzle...sticking my fingers in, tempting the anenomes...the rainbow which framed the entire scene. If I died tonight, 'twould be as a happy man. Rumination of the Moment™: "Tear down the Wall"

7 December I'm on the other side... on thin ice

Well, tomorrow I'm off to Kris' bach 'till Tuesday...a moments respite from the horrors of Auckland...ye gods it'll be good. The fact we only have two uninterrupted days to enjoy is kinda getting me down...make the most of it I guess? I figure I just take my little black book with my poems in it and get ready for pink floyd assisted contentment. Waves rolling into the shore, off and on, on and off, all day, all night! My god...it will be beautiful. Rumination of the Moment™:More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly. Me? "Sad sack" eh? I don't think so.