Pieces: A collection. Jay Wennington
Pieces: A collection of pictures and words from 2012-2014 For my friends and family, forever half the world away.
Voice You voice cuts through the dark like head lights on a country road, reassuring me that you’re still there, and I will take your word for it until the morning.
Sometimes We were sat together, you and I, just a couple of strangers sitting alone together, or was it together alone? Either way it doesn’t matter, we were there, in the front of you car which was older than me, and just like you it was beginning to show it’s age, still beautiful, just a little rough around the edges. We were driving, driving to nowhere, we both knew that it didn’t matter which roads you took because we weren’t travelling to any predetermined location, we could go anywhere, and down any road, so long as that road didn’t lead to home, because that was the one place we couldn’t go. You said we needed to cool off, and even though it was dusk and it could barely have been over fifteen degrees in this dusty Australian suburb, I knew that wasn’t the kind of cooling you were talking about, so I just sat there, ten thousand miles away from the places I knew best and what felt like ten million miles away from the person I thought knew me best.
What happened today was nothing unusual, and even though a long time had passed since the last time, I guess there are somethings you really don’t ever forget, kind of like riding a bike. So when it started, I knew exactly what to do, we all did, each assuming our usual battle positions, as if we were all sleeper agents all trained in the art, all just lying in wait for the next time we were needed, and we were needed today, but a lot of our words were not, in the heat of the moment people say a lot things, and even if we didn’t mean them once we’ve said them, just as we said them, we did. So many words were passed but no tension was cut, so eventually you hustled me into that car, the car that was driving us, not the other way around, through those deserted streets and rain starved gullies where we spent the next few hours speaking but not really connecting, and trying to pretend this afternoon didn’t really happen while neglecting the fact that it did, much like it had a thousand afternoons before, and even though we knew it wasn’t right, this was the real world, and in the real world nothing really ever goes as you want it to and sometimes, just sometimes all that you can do it brush certain problems under the rug, because sometimes, certain problems aren’t going to go away, so somethings the only thing you can do is to pretend that they don’t exist, and even though they do, sometimes, just sometimes pretending is the best that we can ask for.
Ruin Me We met in the spring and by the autumn it was over, you see you ruin me, you ruin me in the best possible way, you ruined me like no one else before has ruined me, and now it is over, all that is left, all that I am, are ruins. So please, come back, please, ruin me once again, before I can start to rebuild what it is that was given, not taken, oh so freely, come back and take back what was so rightly mine to give, it was mine to give and I gave it to you, I gave it to you as I would do a thousand times over. So please, come back and just pick at my bones, these megalithic building blocks used to build a shrine to you, and which were ripped apart and rebuilt and ripped apart and rebuilt and ripped apart and rebuilt in the battle of head and heart, to which neither side can victor. You ruin me in the best possible way, I do not deserve to be ruined.
Pieces
#87
The air is full of last night and I’m gasping, trying to breathe it all in, desperately trying to piece these pieces together to work out what happened.
Let’s meet up in a town one day, one that neither of us knows, and pretend we don’t know each other, until awkward conversation flows.
A certain number of assumptions and conclusion can be drawn from various half fades scenes and possible drunken delusions. All that I know is that we’re in bed but our clothes certainly are not, and even though every part of me thinks this should be awkward it’s not. You’re lying there sleeping and I’m barely awake, but this is all about to end, we both are far to busy with things to do and plans to make. So I guess that I’ll just lay here, lap up these last few seconds of us; no one else, just us and make sure I try my hardest to remember to never forget just how fucking incredible it feels right now.
We can forget about our pasts and all the memories we share, come on, let’s start a fresh, let’s just lay each other bare. I’ll pretend I’ve never met you, that I’ve never met your dad, those awkward glances, stolen times and kisses that we’ve had. Instead of thinking how far apart we are, let’s think of how close we could be, in an unknown place, with unknown faces and the likes of you and me. Instead of blaming timing, and always thinking of the end, let’s just lose ourselves, forget our past and start over again.
Fairy Tales It’s dark right now and I’m laying here and my teeth are hurting because of all that chocolate we ate last night in bed, before we got all caught up like we so usually do and I forgot to brush them. So it’s dark outside and my teeth are tingling and the only light is from the passers-by shimmering the remains of lasts snow on the windows, and yeah it’s cold and even though it’s not even six I can hear cliff getting ready for working but I’m too scared to open my eyes for more than a second because I don’t know what could be lurking in the corners of this dark room, much like my mind, and if real life is anything like that bad dream I just had about a woman dying and her turning out to have my nan’s face I’d rather shut it out and just not know, so I’m just going to lay here and hope that dream melts like the snow, on the window and the snow on the street and just lay here waiting for the sunrise or the promise of sleep.
I’m touching your warm legs with my cold hands trying to wake you up so that we can share one of those looks, one of those looks we seem to have all time where no words are said but I think they tell you so much more, and I’m beginning to realise that I am so much more of a man than i ever realised before, but not in a good way, you see I’ve realised I’m a prime example of a man not being able to express himself, to you at least,struggling to express how much he loves someone and it’s strange and so so different from when I was young, and no I’m not saying that this relationship is work, but it’s working, and every day I seem to spend with you, in this room, in this old flat above the fanciest restaurant in town, I realise that I’m not sure if the work is not working or if it’s simple those dark thoughts that again have been lurking, in the corners if my mind just like the corners of this room, trying to hold me back, trying to make out that love is a chore, and like I said before ‘when love becomes a chore it isn’t loving anymore’ but I don’t think that’s quite it, because loving you is easy oh so easy to me and in my eyes, loving you is better than ever losing you. So, it’s getting light right now and I know you’re awake but pretending, and I know that you’re scared that this might not be a fairy tale ending, but I’m telling you that that doesn’t even matter, those are all fairy tales and us right here, well we’re writing our own one daily.
#74 (Newcombe Road) You see, you and me pal, we’re different but exactly the same, because although it’s neither of our faults we both hold the blame. I mean it isn’t some one sided thing, you know the world never is, but it’s hard to place blame when what isn’t is branded as what is. When you want something so much that you are willing to bend the very space and time that surrounds us, and when it doesn’t work it is this same energy that pulls us down; and it drowns us. You see that’t the problem with best intentions, they’re nothing more than feelings that we mould and shape; inventions that we engineer to make ourselves feel better when all our plans fall through, and that is exactly what happened, not with me; but with you, but then with me because of you. Don’t feel sad about it though, there’s absolutely nothing here to mourn, if anything something better has come of it, from our joint failure there was a fire of which a phoenix was born. And if only you and I can see it, or even if it’s only me, I’d rather our debacles soar that founder in dead seas.
It went from wasting time with you to wasting time with you, and it’s around that time I think I knew it was true, that you and me and us and us and them and them as us and all other possible words, were just that; words. And hollow words lead to heavy hearts,and once perfect fitting puzzles pieces are little more than spare parts. You made me realise love is blind, so we weren’t meant to be, because every day I’d wake up and see that you were staring back at me.
But like I said that’t the problem with best intentions, they’re nothing more than feelings that we mould and shape; inventions that we engineer to make ourselves feel better when even the most though out of plans fall through, and that is exactly what happened, with me, with us, with you.
Comfort My bests are your worsts. I could try and try to be half the person you are on a bad a day, but at the end of it I’m always going to fall short, because you are magnificent and that is the story of my life. But it doesn’t matter though really, because everything is relative and relatively speaking I’m luckier than a lot of people out there, so I guess I can find some comfort in that, at least.
I’m not sad any more and that fucking scares me.
Thank you for your time.
Jay Wennington 2014.