Bobakey[dot]net

I'm drowning in self pity. That's why I'm listening to this song. That's why I'm fed up. That is what happens when you live alone. No wait... did I just say that I live alone? I meant, that is what happens when you live your ex who has a new boyfriend.

Maybe I'm bitter and twisted. Maybe I'm jealous.

I'm over Dan, completely over him. But some things still ring true, and sometimes, just for a moment I miss things that were once part of US.

The reason why I spend every night alone is because Dan is always at his new boyfriends flat. It doesn't bother me. Then why am I even writing this?

It DOES bother me. I've come to think recently, that how can I, the one who was so sure of what I wanted... so sure that I could move on and just get with other people can't seem to find anyone to share my bed with, if only for cuddles. Yet he, the boy who proclaimed he wouldn't even think about another person if it killed him because he was too HEARTBROKEN - how can he drop everything we ever had for another person? And so soon. It's been on going for over a month now... which means that that they got together around 2 and a half months after Dan and I broke up.

Wow.

Nearly 4 months later, and look where I am...

Spending another night in this bloody flat ALONE. In 13 days Dan has slept here a grand total of once. Yes 1/13. I spend every night alone in this flat...

I'm going through such a busy time at the moment in college with it being my third and final year that I can't really see people, or even invite people around as I'm TOO BUSY. But that doesn't make it any easy on me... it doesn't make it easy at all.

My flat is so lonely. And I'm slowly eating myself to being fat. Anything to make me feel better.

13 Nights and he has stayed here just the once... I'm not trying to kick up a fuss. I'm just angry. I'm so angry...

I WANT SOMEONE TO HUG ME AT NIGHT.
I WANT SOMEONE TO BE THERE FOR ME.
I WANT SOMEONE TO HOLD AND TO LOVE.

... I miss being close to someone.

It's odd, but these emotions and feelings rise just like the tides do. Every so often, they come and go. But it annoys me... how can I get so wound up about it all? But I DO.

*sighs*

I needed a place to just vent. To rant. To just cry over.

Then when he is in the flat I don't want him here, I want this to be my place... and yes... I'm such a fool. I realise this.

I can't be happy for him, when really I should be able to be happy for him because we are FRIENDS.

We are FRIENDS who were once LOVERS who are now FLATMATES.

Complicated yes?

I just wish that things were moving more FORWARD for me... I just feel slightly stuck at the moment, but nevermind. It's more because I keep finding myself liking the ones who really I shouldn't like, or just won't work.

They are either crazy.
They are either too busy.
They are either also in love with their ex.

*shrugs*

I'll survive. I feel better to just write this down quickly without giving it too much care or thought. Perhaps it has come out rather scrabbled - perhaps not.

Thanks,

With love my dear friend,
<3

Transformation. I went under a transformation today. It was nothing special, infact I can't really quite tell the difference, but nonetheless. My hair fell down to the floor as she cut away at it.

It was a quick job. Unsure if it is good, or not. I always find that though. After a hair cut I tend to have to wait a day before I can truely pass judgement. The next day is crucial. Having washed and styled your hair on your own without the help of a hair dresser, we come into the moment of truth.

Has my transformation been worth while? Am I really transformed?

Going to the hair dressers is for me, a way of removing layers of the past, and to create something new. I dread going there I must admit. It's the conversation I hate. All the same questions that they have stored into their head, and they pretend to be interested in your life. Maybe they are? Maybe I'm being harsh. I suppose part of the actual job of being a hair stylist, cutter, etc, is that you have a relationship with the client, their personal life included.

I can't help but to imagine though, that as I sit there, staring at my reflection in the mirror, that there are hundreds of women and men, who at this precise moment are doing exactly the same thing.

They are transforming.

Becoming anew. Becoming someone else. It's beautiful. It really is. It's not that we are turning into creatures of unknown, nor are we emerging as new born, it is just a clensing of the past. From dead ends.

Yes. Dead Ends. Thats is completely.

I have removed the Dead Ends of so many things within my life. My past relationship, my living situation, my work place, my heart, soul, body and mind. Removed.

And in its place...?

A new me. A transformed me.

It reminds me of a performance I saw at the Edinburgh Festival last year, it was called Transformation. It was a one woman show, and she told her life story both through narration and through physical movement. The story was amazing. Poignant. And beautiful. How she transformed from a teenager into the woman she is today. I really admired the fact that a form of her dealing with certain issues within her life was to actually present it through this form of theatre.

So here I am. Telling you, my lover, that I am transforming for you. With you, and because of you.

Let's hope this transformation doesn't wear thin too soon.
With love
<3

It's been a while. I always start a post like this in the same fashion. I'm aware. It's been years, no, thats not strictly true, just the one.

I feel the need to just get things off my mind, to unload some things. A space to call my own, and a need to write.

Recently [now nearly 2 months ago] I broke up with my longest relationship to date. Dan was amazing, and we went strong for 1 year and 9 months. It may not sound a lot to most people, but in gay terms that means that we were married and waiting for the kids to come along.

We lived together for nearly a year as well, which really does put our relationship into perspective. Wow. Thinking about it now makes me feel very bizarre. But yes, it was right for us, we work well together. Now there is nothing. Thats of course not true at all, there are memories, lots of love, and of course, a friend. Which perhaps is worth more. Friends can be better than lovers. Sometimes

Dan and I still live together, this is interesting to say the least. It's a mixture between comfort and hell. Haha. We get on very well as friends, and therefore we get on well as housemates too. But its difficult with the fact that we were once something more, which means everything can be taken further than the average flat mate. If we disagree on something, it can lead to an argument. Why? Because its what we would have done in our relationship.

However, I'm learning to close down a lot of the doors that we were once open to us. But one thing is clear, the love and friendship that I have in him will always be there. I'm sitting here and inside I'm smiling knowing that this is the case.

For his birthday just gone, I wrote in his card a thoughtful message. It basically said that I knew we had gone through some crap recently, but I was greatful to now be having a friend who I care about dearly.

Everyday that comes there are new challenges we face, with or without knowing them, but thats all part of life.

I'll survive. I'll move on. I'll live once more. And I'll love again.
Thanks for listening, my love.
<3

So after several months which turn into a year, I finally get my laptop back from the repair place. Simple: I have an fault in my hard drive and they have replaced it. Now I have a laptop that is shiny and new, apart from the fact its my old laptop and its just works like a new one.

It's midnight. I'm shattered and I'm laying in bed.

I've come to enjoy laying in bed, I've had 6 weeks of hardly sleeping, and hardly a bed for that matter to not enjoy the delights that my old bed has to offer me. I never thought that a hard mattress, a thin quilt, and covers that don't quite fit in with the room could ever be anymore delightful as it is now.

Where have I been I hear you shout...!?

Simple. I spent 6 weeks working in Edinburgh at the Edinburgh Fringe 2007 in one of the largest Fringe theatres that operates during the month of August. With 15 theatres spread across 5 buildings, which all equals out at a very large hundred plus shows performing over 4 weeks its hard to believe that I even had a chance to stop and think.

I've learnt so much, its true to say. I've seen a building that was once derelict due to a fire be transformed into 5 theatres. It's hard to say that I "saw" these theatres be made... it was more, I, who along with a group of hard working people, helped to build these structures. These stages where artists would perform.

I have sucessfully operated power tools, built the very essence of a theatre, layed dance flooring, hung drapes, drilled too many holes, cut wood, lifted and carried well over a thousand bits of wood, and all for what?

The FRINGE FESTIVAL.

Can you believe that the city of Edinburgh actually doubles over the course of one month. Thats crazy. And I was there in the very heart of it. To be fair I was only on Box Office and Front of House duties, but I dread to think how much money actually crossed my two hands into my cash tin, how many tickets I printed out, how many credit cards I handled and swipped with happiness.

I'm exhausted.

I worked an average day of 12 hours, 7 days a week for 6 weeks... and only 3 days off. Yes. Three. 3. 3. 3. 3. They say its the magic number, but for me it was a small glimpse of being free.

It's fair to say that I lived and breathed the festival. I survived.

I Survived.

When I think about the many other people I know, my frineds, my family... they... they couldn't do it. They wouldn't have the strength, the pull in the theatrical world to get up everyday and to walk down the same street to work, to the pull of the theatres.

I find it amazing that I'm still alive after those 6 weeks of what can be described as... as what?

An experience.
A desire to wear away any sense of sleep I once had?
The feeling of achievement.
Friendship.
Money

Whatever it is, I can hold my head high and proclaim that Jakey the Bobakey survived.

Now sleep.
With love, and regretful apologies of absence
xXx

Looking into the eyes of a stranger. It doesn't matter where it takes place, but it happens time and time again. It's one of those odd quirks in life. You both look, you both look away.

Who gives you permission to stare into my eyes for those few seconds?
Who says that I can't stare into your eyes for those few seconds?

It's as if its an unwritten rule between one and all [apart from children]... You just don't look into a strangers eye, especially in public places. Extreme public places. The street for example, is certainly a place not designed for such exchanges between two complete strangers. Yet we all do it, and then we all pretend we didn't do it. It's a game.

Children do it all the time, infact, I believe children are the winners of this game. There is no care, its merely a look. It's not flirty, its not dirty, and its not anything but a look. And yet, don't well all feel tense and annoyed when a child, whatever the age, stares at us, epecially when you engage in eye contact.

They are watching me.
They are watching me.
They are watching me.
THEY ARE WATCHING ME.

I purpose that I shall stare at each and every person I meet on the street, maybe stare is a strong word... perhaps its better to say, I won't look away when I've caught that beautiful eye of yours.

Sometimes I just really want to stare into someone's eyes, a stranger's eyes. Yet its intrusive. Don't. Look. Into. My. Eyes.

Then of course there is the look into the eyes, the look away, then the return of looking. It's a signal of flirty vibes being presented through open eyes. I caught a guy's eye the other day, he had an interesting face, so I continued to look, but then something odd happened. He continued to look too, and then I smiled. If he noticed this smile I'm not sure. It wasn't for the fact that this guy was attractive, or that I had even thought he was... it was the sheer odd situation of two complete strangers.

A look.
A look away.
A look.
A look away.
A smile.

It's as if we are each stealing glances at each other, but I'm not stealing. I'm taking. I want to rant and rave about the past and community. But this isn't the time and place. Instead I shall say that if you catch me staring, I'm not staring at you for any reason other than taking you in. Taking you in.

It's the look of, you have a story to tell, and I want to guess what it is.

We all have stories, but we never tell them, let me guess, let my mind wander and figure you out. It's excites my imagination and fuels my mind. Passes time too, it must be said.

I'm off to go watch, engange in a split-seconds worth of eye flitterings between myself and ...

You?

With love,
The boy that is and was.
<3