Thus conscience does make cowards of us all

One day I’ll be a mere echo in the memories of other people. I will be gone, frozen in those memories like a memento. An artifice to whatever façade I managed to fool people into believing.

Do I really want my life to be a lie, peddled for that most ignoble and base reason ‘pride’? Do I really want to pretend for everyone so that they’ll like me a smidgen more between them eating and fucking and sleeping?

I’ve been in an odd mood today, because we went over to my sister’s grave and checked on it, and as I always do I spend some time thinking about her, her death, what it would have been like if she had lived. And I thought about that time when I won’t be alive any longer.

O that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon against self-slaughter.
O God! God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!

When I came home, I sat down in the sofa. Mark sat down next to me. I reached out to the table and that part fell open in Hamlet by William Shakespeare. Hamlet was always such a heavy thing. I’m convinced it’s a twisted form of love story, because Hamlet wouldn’t do what he did if he didn’t love deeply.

Motivations, they are key to understanding characters. Hamlet loves, and he is denied love because the person he loves is dead, and he is lost into a morose state where agency means the cloak of madness and depression. Like in the above quote.

I love too, so my dark heart is bathing in sunshine, and I am content. Perhaps too content. So, I play these little games with people where I try to make them like me – at least the ones in my real life.

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

I am a chameleon, a shape shifter who switch from form to form depending on how much I want to impress someone. Isn’t this blog another symptom of that? Isn’t the stark personality which emerge when on stage another? Isn’t the bookish Colin which sits for hours lost in whatever world the words on a page in a dead tree conjure up?

Maybe I’m not really smart at all. Maybe I’m deluding myself. Maybe what I should care about is the moments between eating and sleeping and fucking, and let go of everything else. Maybe then, in a hundred years time, the ones who remember that old geezer Colin will think nicely of me. Not with embarrassment. Not with shaking their head thinking, “the silly old git thought he was a writer. Imagine that”.

Sometimes I want to ask mum and dad point-blank, without pretence: would they have preferred if Ellie had lived instead? Would they have preferred if the roles were switched? Would Ellie sit like this, and think these thoughts, and wonder the same thing? What if I ask, and they answer truthfully?

What will my future be like? Will I like it? Will people remember me?

I had a gay panic today. Long after I woke up my hair was an utter mess. It’s grown too long again, and I must apply lots of chemicals. When I don’t, it looks terrible. And I cringe. Maybe there’s a drama gay queen inside of me after all.

Demonic cat possession confuses George the cat after we go another round about religion

It is one month now until our first anniversary, and I’ve started to wonder what I’m going to get Mark then. It was a long time ago we stopped counting the months, so I think it’s time to do something awesome.

At the end of the month we’re off again on another trip to another of the fair countries of this isle of ours. We’re going to Caernarfon in Wales for a few days with another couple, one of whom is Welsh and suggested the place.

I thought we could do something about the anniversary then, but now when I’m thinking about it I don’t want to involve anyone else. It should just be the two of us, and we should keep it quite simple. Maybe go out for dinner at a good restaurant. Be romantic and all that.

What I’m mostly banging on about in my head is that we’ve actually been married a whole year. It feels like it was only a month ago, sometimes.


Living with one of those wishy-washy people who believe “there’s something out there” has its risks, particularly if the parents are the same. There comes times when they try to convince me about the validity of their position, and that can lead to arguments.

For one thing, I think Mark is not rigorous enough in his thinking about this. He says that he has no evidence that there’s nothing out there, so in his view it is pointless to try to make a statement about it.

First, there’s no evidence that if there’s something out there that it’s Christian. It could be Norse, or ancient Greek. Or what about if he wakes up after death and meets a Horus who demands a tribute? Or maybe we’ll meet an irate Odin who demands to know why we haven’t sacrificed slaves to him ever? What is to say that whatever is out there is Christian? Nothing. Maybe Mohammed strolls by the pearly gates to find out where Allah should send the 72 virgins?

Bah. Humbug. You can’t prove a negative. If there is no evidence for something, you can’t say “lack of evidence is not evidence for nothing”. Lack of evidence for something means it’s unlike there is anything. I wish he would grasp that.

Instead we do, like yesterday, spend an hour discussing this silliness. And he gets support from his parents when we do.


George the cat has been very interested in the goings on at one of the neighbours. He wants to go out there all the time. What is going on is that their female cat is making noises which are something out of this world.

Of course, George has been snipped, so he is confused about what he should actually do if he did meet the female cat there. The neighbours have, wisely, decided that it’s a bad time for the cat to go outside.

Yesterday he sat up on the fence, and gave us this look of “Ok, what the hell am I supposed to do now?” when the demon calls from inside that house started again. It was so funny.