Goodbye old friend You served me well I shall cherish the times we spent together You protected me You covered me You gave me warmth when others offered only cold You were cool when some would have been stifling We travelled great distances together But as time drew on, you rarely left the house You lived your life, as I lived mine But what now – where will we both end up? I will move on, but never will I forget you Your end will not come, splattered in paint or oil or dirt Valhalla, if such a place exists for your kind Woosh the flames rise as they lick around you Ashes – all that will remain But what if another can love you?
Yesterday we sat around a table eating food with people we call friends. It was the second Sunday in succession that we’ve had reason to do that. Some of those friends we get to see on a weekly or at least monthly basis. Others, we haven’t seen – or may not see for years. Yet we still use the same word to describe them – to categorise their presence within our lives; to mark the special relationship we share. I’ve written to you about the importance family will play in your life. I think my view of family is often dictated by the hours of Irish/Italian American themed TV programmes I watch – positioning myself as the patriarch of a big family – that brings
… Eat bubbles! A simple statement – said by you to Hooch our dog, as she chased around the garden after a bee. A bee so engorged by a feast of nectar from our neighbour’s garden, that it could barely lift itself above and beyond the snapping jaws of the chasing hound. There is clearly context to this episode – for Hooch likes to eat, or at least pop bubbles as they float around the house – blown either by you or the machine that gives amusement to you both. They can’t taste nice. We did buy bacon flavour bubble liquid, though I’m not sure if that’s advisable for either of you. So as Hooch tried in vain to capture, and then eat the partially
The intention of the letters up to this stage has been a way of introducing you to us, to your world – to try to explain how you came to be with us. The intention of this letter is to try to offer you some guidance, to explain to you the importance of family – and to explain why family means so much more than just us, your parents. I’ve never been great with my extended family. There is no negative reason for this, it is purely because I am lazy – I tend to get in touch with people when I need to, rather than just to keep a steady flow of communication going with them. Family members are different. It appears that even
Ok, so the title is slightly misleading. It’s not meant to imply that porn is the friend; a crutch I rely on when I’m down or have certain urges. No. What I mean is that I have a friend who works in the porn industry. A friend who now goes by the professional name of Lara Latex – her real world name forever lost to her thousands of fans on facebook and twitter. We met at college. We were on the same course, though she was in the year above. We played on the same Volleyball team, had the same group of mates and went on the same nights out – though I think we both would have preferred to have been somewhere less commercial
I’m stood, hugging a bare-chested man. I’ve been in this embrace for the last five minutes. I don’t know his name, or why he is hugging me. All I know is that his shirt is round his waist, I’m covered in his sweat and his mouth is moving but no sound is coming out. He reaches his hands round to the back of my head, and with delicate fingers, starts to massage my neck. I don’t remember this being advertised as a service when I paid to get in here? Still his lips move – his eyes darting around as they do. He points to someone in the distance, someone I can barely make out through the mass of bodies. Bodies interlocked with each other;
I’ve just read the sad news that someone I knew has recently died. My emotions were mixed and somewhat complex as I tried to absorb the text on the screen. I was naturally sad because they had died; frustrated because we had lost contact over the last two years – yet the overriding emotion was happy. I was happy because my mind can still capture her in a time and place, where we were having the sort of fun only “real” friends can have together. I put real in inverted commas because ours was an online friendship that lasted for what seems like, too brief a moment now. Even in this age of technology, some might still see it as strange that such strong bonds
We were somewhere around platform six when the beer began to take hold. I remember saying something like “that was some of the best beer I’ve ever tasted…” And then suddenly there was a loud roar of a diesel engine and the sky was leaden thanks to a late summer shower. The voice in my head was screaming “Why did we leave that pub?” Then it was quiet again. My companion was wearing a shirt with a hood to protect him from the rain, and the skinniest jeans imaginable. “My missus said she hoped I had a fun day out with my new boyfriend” he said. “Your boyfriend? “ No point in telling him he wasn’t my type. The poor bastard would find out soon