A glorious moment on the train this early morning;
The sun shone, filtering through my eyelashes and warming my cheeks.
Closed eye sigh. Big breath.
The sun was glad to be noticed, and I was glad of the sun.

Joy is walking home across a field, totally alone, listening to Jack Johnson.
Joy is the smell of a warm fire and the sound of laughing.
Joy is being in bed with your lover when the skies are roaring and crying outside. Joy is flying at the speed of light on Christmas day on your new bike.
Joy is wine with a friend who makes you feel, and reminds you of home.
Joy is in my walking, talking, thinking, breathing body. Even with it's bumps and lines and length - joy is that it works.
This is my joy. So often forgotten
What does your joy look like?

I am in pursuit of excellence within my life and every corner of my mind. Family relationships, religion, friendships, being a partner and a colleague.

I am charging towards being good, being happy and being true. Being the best me in each moment. I don't quite believe in standing by to smell the flowers or reflect. Like the hare, I will race along - gobbling up challenges and small victories and big defeats.
I want to live it all.

I decided 4 years ago that I wanted to be inspiring, encouraging, honest, kind and humble. I want to be these things while charging ahead in the pursuit of excellence.

Steeples and cranes poke their heads above the trees and rooftops. They wave away chimneys and street lamps and get stretched and plucked into the thin ropy blue.

Looking down on a world where people scurry like ants and trees cover the earth like grass.

A land of blue and reds and yellows. They melt into a hot pot of life far below the quiet of the skies.

It's all glorious and breathing and sighing. The heart beat of the earth pulses up until the cranes and steeples tremble with its force.

I move in 2 days to a house of my dreams. A place we have turned from concept into a home. Purple in places and green in others. I wish we had been less liberal with colours.

But it's ours in two days and forever to build a life in. Maybe there will be tears and definitely there will be smiles. Midnight laughing and noon-time fireworks.

I promise to make this your home. To respect your space and your life. To live with your ambition and your silence. I will love you here like I have loved you everywhere.

When I dream, I dream of princes and thieves. Devils and horses, always horses. Who ride through forests of green and pine - Christmas all year round.

I smell the ocean or a stream. I smell it all so incredibly vividly. I smell you with your sweat and your you. I taste my hands running down your spine and lick your smile.

The sun, it's brighter and the music's heaven. My dreams are dreams of sirens and love, soldiers and blood.
I dream of the future. Scary and true filled with thousands of mes and lots of yous. Blank faces in crowds and jokers who wail so loud.

My heaven , my hell, my pain, my now. I dream the sorts of dreams that turn my waking life to grey. I dream.

You look at me like I am shiny and new and filled with hope. You see magic and fun. Youth, intelligence and someone quite remarkable.

It makes me want to cry, now 4 years on and I am no longer young or remarkable, exceptional or inspiring. I have lost my shine but you still see me sparkle.
I am ashamed at the grey in my hair and my skin and eyes and my brain. Especially my brain. The shame.

It's all Grey matter.

Please my love, don't look too hard at my grey. It sits between you and the fantasy that is self.

Technology is just flipping cool.

I am on my way home in the train. It's usually a pleasant journey and an opportunity to have some "me" time.
Mornings see me get my twitter fix of news and tech gossip and an update on Palin's latest slip. I browse my Facebook wall and look through the day's Groupon deal. I clear my mails (personal on the iPhone and work on the BlackBerry) and plan any business trip travels through my navigation apps. Lastly, I check skyscanner for the latest deals to anywhere hot.

My evening trip is much the same - anything can happen online in the 9 hours I am at work.

I can cook while I skype, and speak to colleagues via linkedin. All of this has a backdrop of the 'Amy' playlist.

Technology means new words, new tools and new ways to keep up. Friends, work and the planet are all in my pocket.

Somehow I just know that you are different. You haven't spoken or smiled or looked into my eyes. It's the way you walk or how I think you'll talk I feel you're different
Not bad but not me.
Not something I can explain or sum up in one sentence I don't know how you lived or why. What made you tick and how.

You are other.
Other joy and other fear.
Other love and other near
Right next door, on the train, in my office and in my brain you are other delightful. Other you. Other not me.

And I don't understand
And I don't understand
I loved you like you asked and kissed you how you liked and smiled just right
And somehow you just stopped Liking my smile and my kisses, the soft ones and the silly ones
Night time whispers Fall flat in hindsight - not as charming or as sexy
Why. What now.
Do I have to grow up without you?