Back on This

I'm running to my balcony. I leap over and drop to the floor. I don't look back. I'm running to the garages and I kick the brickwork, propelling myself to the top. I leap off the garages onto the grass. I turn and make the jump from a slanted wall to the side of the garages. I grab a hold of the top and pull my body weight upwards.

I'm going to learn flips, martial arts techniques, break dancing techniques. I'm going to perfect my parkour abilities in the way I want to do it. I'll train alone or with a handful of friends that I can trust. No-one's going to tell me the 'rules' or how I'm 'supposed' to train. I'm going to discover my own way of progressing. No more worrying about what people think. I'm going to train in the way I want to.

I remember when all the younger guys formed a tricking group and all the pure parkour people made them feel so unwelcome that they left the group and trained alone. I remember when my training was working for me but people still tried to change the way I trained. I got sick of pompous people who I didn't like or really click with so I left the group too.

Now the sun is shining and I'm sprinting to a wall. I kick it and grab the top which is twice my body height. I'm crawling on the roof of the co-op and peering around me. It's so good to live in a parkour rich environment. It feels good to train alone. I don't feel scared of the people around me. I trust my own instinct.

I'll find my own way. Many friends from my old groups came and went but there are two guys I particularly like and hope not to lose contact with whether training or just relaxing. These are the people I'll train with. As for other people, I go to the park at night with gymnasts, trapezists and martial artists. We all play together and no-one dictates to others how they should be training. I love it.

Summer time's hitting home like a train running through a concrete wall and I'm loving the idea of training more often. I'll make videos involving dancing, parkour and any other things I like the look of. It's that feeling of freedom gracing my soul that for so long has been repressed by rain and having to train alone. Now I'm really liking the solitude. I'm overcoming obstacles, essentially facing fears and conquering barriers and I feel so positive about it.

'Everyone said you'd stopped training' said James.
'Ah, well I don't care what they think' I replied.
'A'well I still train but I say I don't.' With people's attitudes towards his methods I couldn't blame him. More power to you I thought.

Calm Down. We Don't Need This.

I'm sensing a lot of confrontational frustration from you man. When you called that guy a dick you were forgetting one thing. He's an aggressive person and that doesn't mean we have to confront him about it. Because of our training we're different. We meditate and learn how to control violence. We avoid initiating violence. We're calm but assertive. That's what it means to be Shaolin.

You've got to be humble and grow gradually. Martial study enables one to walk through dangerous situations without fear. It doesn't enable us to start fights. It doesn't mean we can confront every arrogant person and tell them what we think of them. We train to better ourselves. We're learning the middle way. it's got to be different with us. We're setting a mature example.

I'm a human being first, martial artist second. I don't care for the ego. I see far too many men who let their egos take them to delusional places in their heads. They're acting like their ego is all that matters. They're obsessed with seeming superior. We have to be intelligent and see past this. We have to be comfortable in our knowledge and skills and always aim to better ourselves. You'll learn mate, you'll learn.

Cataclysm

'Tell the elderly lady to come out of her house. She don't have to worry about the bad kids no more. Tell the students to take a breather and smell the sunshine making the air warm and welcoming. Tell my girlfriend I love 'er and tell my Dad I miss him. Tell Mother to come home, we can forget about the argument. Wipe the slate clean.'

When the positive energy hit earth the entire planet shuddered like a puppy in the bitter cold. Things changed pretty fast. First came the springing flowers spreading like the wildest fire that ever raged, then came the smiling faces, hundreds of them. People came out of their houses and looked to the sky. They saw the sun, the stars and the moon all at the same time. When these people smiled at the sight they quarrelled with their eyes to behold their teeth turned white, their faces tanning. They were beautiful.

I knew I could let it go, the cancer, the family turmoil. My prayers had been answered. I dropped my mobile phone, realizing I could travel by mind, communicate by will alone. There she stood, the beautiful woman I'd always insisted was 'the one.' She was looking at me with a contented grin and I ran to her. I held her close and smelled the fresh scent of lavender on her long strands of brown hair.
'We don't have to worry anymore.'

I'm Better

I see it on their faces, that 'who's better, me or you?' I'm looking around and he's standing there, eyes like hot fire. I glance at him and then away. I only see his ego. There are other people and they look at me with inquisitive resentment. In my head I'm like 'I couldn't give a fuck.' I keep on doing my thing. I'm not concerned.

Some people are like that. Some people care who's the best. Some people are dying to prove themselves. The truth is simple. If I'm happy the only person I need to impress is myself. Maybe I'm laid back but I'm humble and that's all that matters to me. This sort of aggression is nothing new.

In the future I'll encounter aggressive stares and half doubting glances. I'm sure of it.
'There, that's that guy who does kung fu. He must think he's right tough.' I meditate and let the fear drown past me. I'm not into it. Leave me to sort my own business out and I'll gladly smile and say hello. If only I thought it was just that. If only you didn't intimidate me slightly.

Here Lies Remorse

I chose to do something quite sad.
I took the only life I had.
Some people cried, others were mad.
I miss my life, my Mum and Dad.

Listen Man. Lighten Up.

'I made a fool of myself the other night' says Charlie, rubbing his palms together and frowning.
'So what man?' Replies Proof. 'Who cares? Life's too short.'
'I got angry and I was arrogant,' Charlie gazes down at his trainers.
'Hey, if I had a pound coin for every time I've been arrogant, and I'm not lying 'ere, I'd be a millionaire.'
'People could see it in my behavior though'
'Listen Charlie, who gives a fuck what random people think about you? If your friends are true they'll see past this behavior and move on. If they can't see past it, well fuck 'em Charlie.' Charlie forces a smile and scratches his curly black hair.

'I'm ashamed Proof' he admits.
'Why man?'
'What if I lose my friends?'
'We're all human Charlie, we all have emotions to deal with. Seriously man, if anyone don't like it, fuck 'em, for real. Take it from me, I've got, what? Like five friends? Including you? These are people who've stuck with me through thick and thin, my real mates. If you lose a friend through your actions then those people aren't worthy of being your friend, you get me?'

'What if people lose respect for me?' Proof stares hard at a sulking Charlie and raises his voice slightly.
'People should respect you for who you are Charlie, not how you act when you're drunk.'
'I felt like after that night I wanted to smooth everything over, I wanted to apologies, I wanted to change. I hope I don't make the same mistake again.'
'I think you worry too much man, come on, let's get a burger.' Proof holds out his hand and Charlie uses it to rise to his feet. Proof pats Charlie on the back and the pair walk off, chatting more about getting drunk.

Flying Off

If you love me you'll wake up from your sleep and speak to me. If you love me you won't lay there in silence. People don't ignore people they love. Why have you gone away? Why did you walk out onto that busy road? The car was going sixty miles an hour. It hit you and your body flew like a crash test dummy.

I ran over to you.
'Richard, Richard.' Nothing. A crowd gathered. I couldn't stop crying. I knelt by your lifeless body and screamed for help, called out for any type of assistance. All I got was scared faces and one elderly woman reaching inside her hand bag for her mobile. She called an ambulance.


I listened to the beeping of the machine next to your hospital bed. I spoke with patience.
'Hi mate. Hope you're well.' I forced a smile. You always said I had a great smile. 'I brought you some grapes. What a cliché eh?' I laughed out loud. 'Maybe you can eat them when you wake up.' You were breathing like an angel, just laying there. You looked so peaceful.

I kissed your head and walked towards the door. I stopped with my hand on the handle and glanced back. Please wake up. You were always the strong one, the one with ambition, the driven one. How am I going to cope without a brother? After Mum and Dad died you swore we'd stick together,
'Like glue' you said.

I cried next to your hospital bed the next day. I sat with my face tucked into my palms weeping for you. You never deserved this, you were a giver, a charitable person. As I cried my eyes grew sore. That's when you opened your tired eyes and glared at the ceiling.
'Micheal? Where am ah?'

I'm Sorry But Thank You

I'm sorry I didn't see the terror in your eyes when you recalled that story about your mate getting beaten up. I'm sorry I didn't see your frustrated eyes as a friend who's been let down. I'm sorry I didn't call that windy day when we were meant to be bouldering by the park.

I'm sorry I told you to shut up and fuck off. I'm sorry I took things too far and never apologized at the time. I'm sorry my pride got in the way of my vision and caused me to be angry. I'm sorry you teach me so much yet I act irresponsibly.

I'm sorry I started shouting when you didn't pour me a drink of lager and I'm sorry I held a grudge about it.


Thank you for seeing through the idiocy of my behavior and believing I am a good person underneath all my insecurities. Thanks for giving me the chance to shine when I'm in a good mood. Thanks for treating me with undying respect and overwhelming my sense of brotherhood.

Thanks for telling me you loved me even though I had cold saws, even though I was an idiot that night in the pub. Thank you for letting me talk about whatever I like. Thanks for seeing my opinions and not trying to change them. Thank you for telling me your opinions.


I'm sorry for a lot of things but I also have to thank you for so much.

The Hunter In Search

I laugh as The Hairy Beast bounds towards me like a clumsy puppy. He's twice my size with teeth as big as giant razors. I hold the spear back and thin my eyes. I'm ready. Here he comes I think, keeping a close eye on his front paw.

I launch the spear with an all mighty roar and watch it fly towards The Beast's face. The tip of the spear sets into The Beast's hairy head and purple blood squirts out. I'm grimacing, hoping I've killed it. It's either the beast or me.

The Beast slows, losing control over it's muscles. It falls onto it's purple belly and slides towards me. It's head looks up at me and The Beast closes it's eyes but fights the feeling of tiredness. I withdraw the spear and put my foot on the beast's lifeless head. You're mine now.

I'm trudging through thick green reeds and knee high sandy brown slush. I'm ready for anything. I'm in the lair of the darkest creatures on this plane and I'm poised for action. Only my readiness and bodily strength can drive me forwards like this.

I've got to find my tribe, got to find Maddy and the rest of the girls. They're out here. I look down at my muscular body. My thighs ache from the effort of lifting one leg after another through this thick dirt that wets as high as my groin.

The sun beats down on my already tanned face and I wipe my steaming brow with my tired right hand. I can see mud huts and burning ashes in the distance after the reeds finish and the desert starts. People are near.

I hope to god they're human like me. I'm hoping to whichever omnipotent being exists that there are no beasts where I am now. You only get lucky with a spear once or twice before you miss. I'm hoping Maddy and the girls are close, that my tribe is playing games just beyond this horizon. I don't know if I'll find them.

Seeing The Light

Poisonous vibes are contrived and so I look back. Anger is affecting my soul so stand the fuck back.

I'm swimming. I'm taking breaths but my aching muscles tell me to stop. I know pushing the limitations of my bodily systems is wise. I train hard and I train daily. I'll master my chosen arts one day. It'll take time and hard work. First I must master myself.

The alcohol runs around my blood stream like mischievous little gremlins. I'm heightened. It's that moment where you're staring into space. It's that one point where smile becomes hot cheeks.

I wake with fresh intent. Draw back the curtains. Make a coffee. It's time to channel chi and feel the positive energy flowing through my heart and mind.

You stare forwards. Remorse and regrets never work. That's a part of life that always helps you to push forwards. You start a fresh day and all the effort you need is in your frustration.

There's something about doing these physical things that resolves any issues. At the end of the day you're energized and you have a sense of achievement. That's kung fu for you. I know what I must do. When it's done I'll be a new man. It's that easy.

I Wish It Really Was My Life

Why can't I just delve back into the comfort of that isolated world and say a big goodbye to trouble and the complication of tyrannical influences? Long gone are the nights where, cuddled in a blanket I'd face the stories and delve deep into another world. I was a reader, a player and a watcher. I could get lost in a book. If it was a horror story I'd feel the goose pimples raising on my forearms.

I'd stare at the screen and I was in a trance. For a long moment I forgot how little I left my house, how I'd ever had a real girlfriend and how much I hated school. I was in Atlantis, I was in a HP Lovecraft novel. I was in my element.

If I played music my mind was deeply touched and stimulated. This was before drugs. This was before any of the drama and the nights spent being sick on park benches. If I look back I see the naivety in my childhood innocence. I wasn't very street smart. I was wrapped in a protective blanket that was my life. With no real father figure I wandered aimlessly, copying who I could.

I wanted to work with computer games. Everything about them fascinated me. Sure, I was a geek, a hermit locking myself away for countless hours. The truth is I felt more comfortable around computers than people. I needed to change but I didn't know it. I thought my lifestyle was healthy. Apparently there are much worse fates.

With change comes enlightenment and every time I think I know something more about life I realize soon after that it's not the complete image. I realize that I've been through things that are none of anyone's business. My past is my past. What I will say decisively is that I've learned a lot over the past ten years or so. I finally feel like I've made it through my chrysalis and I can finally stretch my wings out to fly.

I'm Stealing From You

I remember how we used to play by the swings and the long grass of the craggy hills. There was an air of freedom that we shared, a loose opinion of time constraints and rules. No-one could touch us. We had our own little world. Things mattered to us, things like ninjas, like super powers and mythical creatures.

I remember the bike you lent me. We pedaled downhill but I had no breaks. With ten meters of black shoe rubber in two tram track style lines on the ground behind me I laughed out loud. I love this.

The rain poured and we stopped to kick water at each other. My Mum was angry because I'd done it again. I remember stealing from you. You had that mega drive and all I had was a commodore. You had the figures I'd always wanted but you seemed to take these things for granted.

I picked up the plastic toys with my shaking hand and slipped them into my trouser pocket. I played the excuse over and over in my head just in case your Dad caught me. I was just playing with it. I just slipped it into my pocket. I swear I wasn't going to take it home.

I edged past your Dad nervously. You were speaking to me in that same high pitch you always did.
'See you soon Daniel Wood.' Yeah. See you. I walked outside, feeling an overwhelming surge of guilt running through my soul. I'll go home and play with these toys. The only problem is I'm not sure If I'll even enjoy them now.

You Give

You
push me.
I'm fulfilled.
I know I can
hope.

Strong Man

I'm a uniquely strong man.
Do you understand?
Are you strong?

Poor Symphony

You're chewing on the many shards of broken glass uttering like some kind of frustrated mute. You feel the cold dribble of your own blood trickle from your bottom lip to your chin. You chew slowly and feel the sharp edges of man made glass penetrating your flesh. The blood's warm in your mouth.

As you swallow the first shards you cry a single tear and the warm feeling turns into a cold wet sensation as tears cloud your vision. You're forcing the shards down, realizing that chewing makes them no smaller. This is fucked up you think. This is so fucked up.

You're coming to the painful realization that glass is stuck in your throat and whichever pieces aren't stuck halfway down aren't going to digest anyway. You imagine the clear pieces of glass ripping apart your intestinal track. You imagine passing the glass through your body and sneer at the gruesome climax sitting on a public lavatory somewhere in Hull.

There's no reversing the pain of bloody ripped gums and the feeling of your throat muscles contracting, each contraction hugging razor sharp shards of glass. You're spitting out pieces of bloody glass into the murky Grey wash basin. Your razor sits in it's holster. You stare at your white face and your sullen green eyes. Why are you so fucked up Symphony?

Step back, I'm Winning

They tell you to get real. They say things like that's not how the world works. Don't listen. There's a glistening mountain that exists deep within you. Believe in yourself and this mountain. When you're in control of your feelings you're in control of your life.

You say things like should I be thinking this way? You think can I really do this? You're slowing down when all you need to do is speed the fuck up and keep moving. It's a travesty. No. It's a tragedy. You find that grip strength and clench your fists. You're biting down on your jaw and grimacing. It's hard.

Trivial things matter. There's that person who you have feelings for. There's money to be made an that's what makes things work. A watch can't work without batteries. Maybe I'll shop at Netto, knuckle down and stop drinking. Maybe then I'll work part time. It's all nonsensical. A transient thought engulfs the horde that is your collection of inhibitions. Don't give up.

I'll trudge through tarmac, through drying concrete and sinking sand to get to where I need to be. If someone tells me I'm crazy, that I can't do it I'll think fuck you. Fuck. You. I'll say okay and move on. That's me, stubborn Mr. Know It All.

Individual Man

I endure the pain of training.
I smile even though it's raining.
It's up to me to work things out.
I'm my own man without a doubt.

I question all forms of advice.
If I don't feel it I think twice.
I'm not a wimp and not a lout.
I'm my own man without a doubt.

Past memories fall and fade fast.
I'll stand the test of time and last.
I do not sulk or frown or pout.
I'm my own man without a doubt.

I'm changing so swiftly these days.
I'm singing but no music plays.
I laugh, I cry, I scream and shout.
I'm my own man without a doubt.

Disturbing Urges

I slap him silly. By the time I'm through backhanding him my hand's a bloody mess.
'Hit women will yer? Will yer?' His drowsy red face lops to the side and I step back with my breath in my throat. Everyone's staring at me. I look around the bus. I notice the old woman's terrified expression, the young boy's fearful gaze. The whimpering woman with one giant sized hand print on her face crouches in the corner and I start to sober up. What have I done?

I'm running, sprinting with the athleticism of a cheetah after a deer. I'm dropping things. Keys. Wallet. Phone. This is all evidence. When the police look over those tapes they'll see a man hitting his stubborn wife. She's stupid. She'll probably even forgive him and go back to him. I'm entering the woods and I can't stop myself darting, picking up pace. My smoker's lungs feel like collapsing and my milk white spit comes out of my mouth in what seems like cup loads.

I'm leaning against a tree and I'm being sick. I'm throwing up thick yellow liquid. I knew I should have eaten today. My Nan always told me that stomach acids eat your insides if you don't have breakfast. I probably should have listened, should have payed attention to what she was telling me. I'm laughing. I'm chuckling till my belly contracts and I feel like I've got a six pack. I glance at my patchy brown right hand with HATE written across the knuckles in fading blue tattoo ink. It makes me laugh even harder.

Who would've thought I'd re-offend? My mother and my support officer said I'd changed. They said the blind rages were 'no longer a threat to my health.' Well doctor Wormslow if you could see me now, if you could view this quivering wreck, this man laughing at his own intolerable urges you'd have me behind bars in no time. Let it go Casper, let it go.

I'm walking now listening to the sound of dry leaves crunching like breakfast cereal under my feet. I reach a small dirty pond that reminds me of swamps in America for some reason. I stop to wash my hands, rinse myself, cleanse myself. I laugh again but this time it's a nervous laugh. I sit down, wet grass drenching my white jeans. I'll never get away with it, never. I start to cry, I weep until I want the water to pounce up out of the ground and engulf me. Shit.

Utterly Irrational

The silver Clio pulls up beside the blue Skoda and the window rolls down. A gaunt white guy in a blue and white baseball cap grimaces and the black haired woman and her suited partner. The woman looks shocked as the guy screams
'Learn to fuckin' drive yer fat cunt.'

The guy in the suit reaches inside his grey pinstripe jacket and pulls out a pistol. The white guy in the silver Clio glances at his worried mate as he tries to pull away but the car stalls.
'Fuck this Callum. Fuck. This. He's got a pistol.'

The suited man squints one piercing grey eye down the barrel of the black weapon and squeezes the trigger. The black haired woman screams and puts her delicate hands over her ears. The almighty bang makes the two rough looking men in the silver Clio jump two inches out of their seats. Their posture is immaculate, their faces gostly white.

The bullet propels through the open window of the blue skoda and through the open window on the silver Clio. It zips past the two terrified faces and penetrates the glass window at the far side of the silver car. The two men glance at the bullet hole and then back at the woman and her armed partner.

The suited guy's laughing and blowing smoke away from the barrel like something out of a wild west movie. The skinny guy in the blue and white cap moves like a man on performance enhancing drugs and shifts the car into gear. The tires screach and a silver car zig zags it's way along the empty road.

Blue police lights flash onto the breaking silver car. On witnessing the silver car screech to a halt the suited man turns to his partner and says
'Wind your windows up Caz, drive slowly and turn left straight ahead.' He's pointing, glancing around looking for witnesses. The blue car moves forwards and turns left. Caz glances as two policemen step out of their car and approach the two now terrified men in the silver Clio.

'Harvey I never thought you were gunner use that thing. I thought it was a dudd.' Harvey nods, a wry smile appearing on his attentive face.
'Well you know, we can't have people talking to you like that can we!' Caz smiles, a nervous but excited smile.
'Let's get out of this city Harvey, if the police catch you with that thing you're seeing Grey bars for the next year and a half.' Harvey nods and Caz accelerates away from the main road.

Constructive and Destructive Thinking

There's a distinction between destructive thinking and constructive thinking. Destructive thinking says I hate this fucking bus. It's full of wankers who think they're gangsters and hard men. They glorify violence and love thinking they're dangerous. Constructive thinking goes deeper. Constructive thinking leads to clear, decisive actions that are rational. Destructive thinking leads to chaos and fear.

I glance at people. Race is irrelevant. I'm not one of those narrow minded people who stereotype people or put people into meaningless categories because of the color of their skin. Race doesn't exist in my philosophy. It's no more than a trick of the eye.

I glance at people for a moment assessing what type of character they are. I'd say I'm a pretty good judge of character. There's a trio of guys chatting across from me. Using my peripheral vision I can asses who's nervous and who's making eye contact with me. I can even asses what people are thinking about me sometimes.

I respect these people. These are guys who think they're dangerous. Because these guys think they're dangerous that makes them dangerous. Only a fool stands in the face of danger and tries to call it's bluff. People get hurt and a lot of the time it's because they're asking for trouble.

I'm like the quiet warrior. I love peace. Give me a quiet bus any day. If someone smiles on the forty seven it's like a miracle. I sense the animosity from people on the city streets. I see people in hoods and sports clothes. I see people with big black glaring pupils. I see danger and I have no choice but to respect it.

I dress in a street fashion. I see it like camouflage. I think I get respect from people who think they're dangerous for two reasons. I know I've got a strong character but I'm also mild mannered so I don't appear threatening. I'm watching my own posture and behavior as much as anyone else's.

Never underestimate people who think they're dangerous. These people will be dangerous. It's only matter of time. I know these people don't fight alone and they fight with weapons. That's the worst case scenario. I'd rather not fight anyone. I'd much rather stay sharp and polite and keep myself to myself. By being vigilant and surveying people's body language and behavior I hope to avoid trouble wherever I go.

If anything happens to me then it's my time and we all have our time. I don't fear death but I sure as hell respect it. I'll do anything to avoid violence and pain although it doesn't scare me. I'm the warrior and the fighter. I'm strong in my heart but no man shall see a clenched fist rising from my waist, not if I can help it.

The Inner Workings Of The Snake Form

I'm Pushing Till I Don't Have To

Steal my legs and make me drag my torso by my bloody hands. Take my voice and let me communicate through stifled hand gestures. I want the challenge. I want the raw expression that comes with diversity. Give me one breath and I'll run a hundred miles holding it deep inside my lungs. I'm on that pedestal, looking down at the surprised faces. It's me you're seeing, not an illusion.

Grip me in your massive palm and watch me squirm as I peer into your giant eyes just long enough to distract you before I break free. There I am, falling past your hips, plummeting past your legs and landing by your huge feet. I'm running now and even though a hundred of my steps equals two of yours I manage to outwit and escape you.

The clapping tide pushes my aching legs back towards the shore line. I run into the ice cold water and thrust my arms forwards in an attempt to swim. Although the tide is strong and the undercurrents try kidnapping me from the surface I swim forwards. I don't know how long it'll take but I'll reach another shore.

I don't know whether I'll reach hot sand or freezing pebbles but it doesn't matter. I'm heading towards my destination swiftly, employing all my energy. Here's to effort I think as my freezing body adjusts to the chilly sea water.

Look Into Your Behaviour

It's wise to asses the level of eye contact you're making. Sometimes if things seem weird between you and another person it might have something to do with eye contact. Some people will be defensive like they're forced into a corner if you're using too much eye contact, others will feel like you're showing disrespecting towards them by not showing enough eye contact.

I'm proud that I can relate to street people. I'm glad I feel respect from people around my housing estate and the city centre. I'd say I'm fairly street wise. I've been in risky places at unsociable hours but I've never been attacked or mugged. I think it's partly because I'm a strong and mild mannered person.

Sometimes people think I'm angry when I'm concentrating or thinking. I always think it's good to appear strong because appearing strong makes someone less likely to think of you as an easy target.

Bullies exist in schools, in workplaces and in everyday life. It's important to be strong and know yourself. Be fully aware of how you're acting and acknowledge when you're being arrogant or if you're staring at people. Your behaviour is what strangers notice. Your attitude is what defines you. If you've got the right attitude and the right behaviour you're safe in anyone's eyes.

Take Me Back to Simplicity and Nostalgia

Take me back to those days where walking down the street was a daring activity. Take me back so I can smell the greasy sheet metal and feel the dirt building up on my overalls. If we shoot back a few years there are all sorts of different feelings and sensations we can re-experience.

Take the jobs you've had. Think about the highs and the lows that came with that occupation. At Corton's Sheet Metal I hated my boss but loved the camaraderie amongst the guys. We were drawn closer like soldiers. We knew we had a common enemy. I loved my security job and I even took pleasure in dealing with drunken people but my colleagues let me down.

Free speech is something I cherish and I think I have developed my own sense of humour over the years. Sometimes I make jokes and people look at me in fright. Oh well, could be worse, I could be bumbling and shy.

I'm twenty five and I'm not going to become one of those painstakingly boring people who complains about their age or the fact they're reaching thirty. I will embrace my old age. I'll love going grey and maybe even going bald. I'll do martial arts all my life. I'll write all my life. Age is irrelevant.

I'm aware that we're all human beings and that no one human being is special. Until someone comes along with four good arms or golden hair we're all human. It's that simple. We are all unique. Some of us are more outspoken than others, others more kind than the rest. Essentially we're human and I think a lot of people forget about this.

Here's What's Happening

I'm taking a whimsical chance as I walk to my keyboard. Do I tell you the fact that I'm madly in love with a beautiful woman or should I mention fact that my ambition for new career opportunities is growing with every passing day?

Summarising my life is simple at the moment. I'm trying everything. I'm doing every interesting activity I can think of. Tonight I have a trapeze class, tomorrow night I'm learning how to break dance. I'll try ballet, Brazilian martial arts and street dancing. Life's mine for the experiencing.

I have some new songs. All the lyrics are building up inside my head. As soon as I get a new microphone I'll be putting these words down onto instrumentals and progressing with my music.

The book I'm writing got put on hold as did blogging as I gladly focused on being in love. Now my focus is coming down to earth and I'm more motivated than ever. I'll write my book. Most people start a novel and never finish it. That won't be the case with my book, nor my second book or even my third book. I'm a writer. My heart tells me so.

I'm aware that friends mean a lot and my family are always important. I find myself visiting people I haven't really spoken to in years and saying things I've never said before. People are taken aback with my confidence these days. They're used to a more mild mannered and reserved Danny Wood so when I start talking or debating their faces turn to one of mild shock. I love that.