On Wednesday, March 27, 2002, I wrote "Happiness is having the right level of expectation."

I think that is my problem today. My expectations are out of line with reality. I am in a place where my friends and family cannot help me. Only I can help myself. But no matter how much I dream and rationalise, it makes no difference to the way I feel. I can puncture the sadness with moments of light and companionship, but at the end of the day my heart is just not in it. I can maintain a happy facade for days, a week even, but inevitably someone will catch me with my guard down and raise that same old question - "What's wrong?"

It's all wrong. So wrong. My picture of the world has been shrunk down to a tiny dot. I have become a single-issue blogger. I am beginning to bore myself and others. I have become a drag.

I am not an idiot. I know I am stuck at the airport because I have too much baggage. I have to lighten up before I can fly again. But I can't disguise the way I feel. Feelings are meant to be felt. And sometimes only the passage of time can take them away.

Perhaps the truth is I don't want to lower my expectations. I preferred blissful ignorance to this scarred reality. I had a faith in people that gave me much joy, that was central to my belief system. I guess I was an idealist, and an optimist. I loved my friends because I held them in such high esteem. Even now, I am reluctant to lower my expectations of them.

Some say that true strength is not needing others to be happy, but I disagree. True strength is found in collective love and respect. Relationships create strength and happiness that is greater than the sum of the parts. A man who relies only on himself is a selfish son of a bitch who is likely to stab you in the back exactly because he doesn't need you.

Today is my Mum's birthday, but she's flown off to Malaysia to visit my grandparents. So I got home from work at 7:30pm, fed the cat, made dinner for my dad, ate and watched the news together, then settled back with a glass of wine and played a game of chess, like two old bachelors. Except I had to do the dishes, even though I won the game. It was the first time I've ever beaten my Dad, and he was forced to pay me the princely sum of $1. Next time we play for $10!

One thing I don't like about chess is the intense concentration required. It's a game that demands patience and a methodical, analytical approach. You have to work out each possible move and evaluate the various outcomes of that decision at least two or three moves ahead in order to win the game. It's not a game for the lazy or sloppy, which happens to be my current preferred mental state.

Work passed in a daze today. I'm still a bit overcome by my weekend of unexpected debauchery. After a fizzle of a Valentines, the weekend was looking pretty shabby. But I woke up early on Saturday and went sailing on the harbour with some friends, before enjoying an afternoon beer at the Commodore. Then we drove out westside for a Russian-Chinese-Finnish engagement party, where I stuffed my face with meat and more beer before rushing back to the city for free entry into Jigsaw. After a few more drinks I was getting downright skanky with five lovely ladies. Halfway thru the night, some guy even tapped me on the shoulder and shouted "You the man!" Which is ironic, cos really I was just being one of the girls...

Sunday I was supposed to go to Wu Shu and photograph the anti-war protest, but I slept in and found out it was my Mum's birthday lunch, for which attendance was mandatory. So we had a picnic by the harbour and I ate a boatload of seafood whilst listening to the old folk discuss the pros and cons of starting my own business. Then my aunties started feeding the gulls and all hell broke loose.

I took a photo of some mistletoe before the rain started.

Tomorrow is G's birthday. My friends will be there, but I will not. Sometimes I wonder, if I had not met them at Miso's birthday in 2002, would it be the other way around today? I guess it's a stupid question. Life is like chess, you can't take your moves back, so dwelling too much on the past will only impede your ability to make better moves in the future. Though my life now seems so surreal, as if I am living out one of those "What if..." comic books I used to buy back in high school. It makes me sad that I have to do the things I do.

But I must look forward. I knew everyone at Yaki's in 2003. I have a good feeling about these people. Some of them will be around for a very long time, maybe for life. This tells me I have come far, and this year will be different.

V-day. What a depressing end to a tough week. Worked back til 7-7:30pm every night this week. Punishing myself to create much needed momentum. Miss manager was impressed by the heavy workload this skinny donkey can move. Giddy-up horsey! I should be out tonight. Drinking, dancing, and carousing. Instead, I sit at home, sweating in front of an open window, neck craned to catch the occasional breeze and the sounds of unfamiliar names... Masakatsu, hayes, mead. Thinking of my friends. Where are they now? Mozzies are going to feast on me tonight. I stare into the darkness, wanting to attack it in an amalgam of silver shuriken and bleeding tiger. I am Shaolin. I am Wu Shu. A blackened arrow, a sharpened point of poisonous root. I hurtle through the night... I throttle the bike handle until the engine screams a heart-rending, shameful cry.

I just poured half a can of coke down the drain. Bought it at the station but couldn't bring myself to drink it. Seems I don't know what I feel like tonight. Thinking too much again. Writing inane shit to try and cure myself of intelligence. I should just get blind drunk and pass out. What a romantic night. Stuffed myself with Peking duck, then went to Spaceway for lack of anything better to do. I should just put on Chet Baker's My Funny Valentine and indulge my pathetic loserness until I implode in a puff of acrimonious butterflies and teddy bear fluff. Trying to read this Korean novel, East West, but it's just too hot, and I'm bothered and distracted. Head is buzzing with thoughts. If I could clean myself on the inside, I would do that now.

Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted, in one moment - would you capture it, or just let it slip?

Running in the dark until my heart burns like a hot coal. I propel myself in tearing bursts of speed, leaping imaginary rabbit holes with ankle-jarring kicks to the ground. My lungs growl with anger as they strangle on the wild, scalding air. Sweat melts from my skin as thick as oil. I am combustible, I am explosive. I douse myself in foolishness and ignite a match.

I can't sleep. Had a bad dream in which I was in a gameshow where the contestants have to kill each other to survive. Only one can win, the others must die. It was set in a huge old mansion, split into two identical halves, with a huge tropical garden surrounding it. Men and women, of varying backgrounds and sizes, were dropped into this environment, and left to hunt each other down with only ordinary household items for weapons. I was scared of killing. With nothing but a sharpened pencil in my sweaty palm, I chased the other contestants out of fear, with no intention of catching up to them. I feigned bloodlust to keep them away from me.

Then the phone rang and I woke up. Who the fuck calls at 6 in the morning? After my dream, I wasn't going anywhere near the bloody phone. Wasn't sure if I was really awake... Earlier in the night I woke up and heard the computer whirring away. But when I woke up this morning it was silently switched off, and I realised I had dreamt waking up... Am I awake now? It's still 6 in the morning. I'm listening to Big Youth's Roots Foundation...

My last post caused a bit of controversy. Friends emailed me to express their concern, worried that this rogue state is escalating tensions. Hey, just chill, man. Put those nukes away, dude. Get a grip. I think I've been pretty big about the whole thing. I've avoided confrontation, I've played down my anger, I've tried to make it easy on everyone. But seriously, do you expect me to be okay when I see them together?

I miss the love and laughter too... but it's it's all fucked up now. I didn't create this situation, and like most of you, I don't know how to deal with it either. If you can't stand other guys hitting on your girl, how can you expect more of me?

The unfortunate truth is that it's impossible to not get involved, no matter how neutral you wish to be. The moment an accident occurs, every witness becomes a participant in the drama. In a crisis situation, taking no action, is a form of action. Even if you don't think it's a crisis, even if it means nothing to you, to the viewer watching you on their TV screen, how you react is a measure of the person you are.

When faced with a difficult decision, many are tempted to make no decision. They convince themselves they do not have to decide today. External factors may intervene. The situation may defuse itself. Maybe nobody will notice, if you stand absolutely still.

War in Iraq is imminent. Your investment portfolio is in the red. You are faced with a sell or hold decision. Do you cut your losses or hope for a miracle?

You are an Iraqi. War is declared. You are called upon to defend your country. Do you stand and fight with your comrades, or do you run away?

You are an Australian. The way you see it, this war is between the US and Iraq. You decide to stay out of it. America occupies Iraq, and the Iraqi in the last paragraph dies a sad, anonymous death.

Even so, some just shrug and say "Shit happens, hey?"