Morning thoughts.

I'm going to scrub up today.  I'm going to try and look the best I possibly can.


Am I just fooling myself into thinking that something almost happened yesterday, to make myself feel better?


I wish I was actually good at something.  "Jack of all trades, Master of none" doesn't cut it for me.


"Jack of all trades, Master of one" would be nice.  I'd like to be able to do something, and for other people to look at it and say "Wow.  I wish I could do that"

Black and White

Outside, I am the picture of calm.
Inside I am screaming out.


I wish someone would hear me.


I know we haven't made recent developments public, but this last week has highlighted even more for me that I have so few friends.  No-one to hang out with, outside of band practice and gigs, except my brother.  Don't get me wrong, I love him, but I just want someone to ask "fancy hanging out tonight?"  Not necessarily to go to the pub.  Just to hang out.  Maybe get a couple of beers in and play computer games, or watch hilariously bad horror movies until the early hours.


Not one person springs to mind who would ask that.  Except for the owner of this house I am currently staying in, but when I was living in Wincheap, he rarely asked.  I know that's because he works so goddamn hard.  When he gets back, sure we'll probably go to the pub, but it's not the same anymore.  I'm his housemate now.

Blergh

I feel properly down today.


I feel entirely unloved, unnecessary and unattractive.










I don't think I'll see what you saw in me.








I think I'll grow my beard back.

Lazy Sunday

So far today, the only productive things I have done are hang out our laundry and buy some food.


The only two people I have had verbal contact with are are my soon-to-be ex housemate and the checkout lady at Morrisons. There was no real conversation.


I am a tiny, insignificant, ignorant bit of carbon.
I have one life and it is short and unimportant.

It's 2:30 in the morning...

and I should probably get some sleep.




Hanging out with you earlier was fun, if brief. I know there is a lot on your mind, and I understand why you don't want to talk about it.  You definitely deserve a cuddle.  I genuinely hope you have a great time at Thorpe Park.

I long to feel your lips against mine once more.


You are worth waiting for.




My Princess.

Did you ever see a robin weep when leaves begin to die?

I wish I could sing.  I could keep myself company in a way that doesn't make me look crazy.  But as it is, all I hear when I sing is a mish-mash of uncertain wobbly notes.  It makes me feel sick.  So i'm trying to take my mind off of this empty house by listening to some of my favourite albums.

The first was a bad choice.  I imagine the second will be too.  And the third.  I almost can't listen to the majority of my iTunes at the moment.  Anything I'm in the mood for is so depressing, and the lyrics seem to be mocking me.  Mocking my thoughts.

It seems there is nothing I can do.  I'm being honest and open, but everything I say seems to come out wrong.  Other people are not helping the matter.  This is why I truly like so few people, which probably leads on to why I'm sitting here on my own.  There are now very, VERY few people I trust fully.  I can count them on one hand, with fingers to spare.

My mind is a tumultuous storm of thoughts.  I want this to work so much.

I now talk to you directly.

I love you for who you are.  Nothing more, nothing less.  You can be anyone you want to be.  I will never stop you from doing something you want to do.  You are incredibly intelligent, fantastically funny and terribly talented.  Props for the alliteration? No? Not here? Ok.

You are my rock.  My best and closest friend.  I know I can talk to you about anything, and you will listen.  Intently.  I know that you will give me the best advice you can.

If there is one wish I can make, it is that you will give us a second chance.

I don't want to lower myself to begging.  I want there to be something I can do, or say, to help you make your mind up.

To answer your earlier question, deep in my heart of hearts?  I think we would be foolish to walk away from this without having a decent crack at making it work.

Please, tell me if I'm wrong, but when I was telling you about how I felt Friday night, I can only assume your silence meant you felt the same.

If I can still give you butterflies, like you give me, then surely, that means something?

I'm so lonesome I may cry.

Some thoughts about the future

Tomorrow I begin house sitting.  No girlfriend, no best mate, no dog and no lodger.  Just me.  In a messy, two-up-two-down house.  I'll be getting my first ever taste of being a bachelor.


I'm not sure if I'm excited, but I know I'm nervous.


I think I'm excited, because when I was younger, all I wanted to do was be a bachelor.  


To come and go as I please, with no-one to blame but myself for not doing housework.  I get to stay up as late as I want.  In my pants if I want.  With (for the most part) only my thoughts to keep me company.


I'm nervous because that's exactly what I wanted.  Years ago.  I know that has changed now.


I like knowing that someone might be the vaguest bit interested in where I'm going or what I'm doing.  I like having housework to share with someone.  I like the thought of snuggling up with someone in bed, and having that pre-sleep conversation about nothing in particular.


I know that I am on the cusp of my life changing drastically.  This could well be my future.  The mess.  The late nights.  The pants.


The thoughts and the memories.


That's the part I dread.


The thoughts.