Brite, Orange

meta-date: 199908160701

How much do the opinions of others matter? Today is the day I get the opinions of others about my newly revealed interest in body art. I haven't told mum about it - she won't mind the tattoo, but she's likely to ask questions about the scars next to it. I don't really want to receive counselling from my mother about a phase that I have already passed through. This train is shaking lots - it's difficult to make a diary entry when your hand is shaking. Coffee is very hot, almost burning my hand through the cup. I fell over on the way to the station - trod on a stone on a hill and it moved - my leg flew out from under me an I fell on my arse like a total prat. The grazes on my hand itch far more than the picture on my arm, even at it's worst. As any regular readers (there are some - to my great surprise) may have noticed the feelgood factor of getting a tattoo and not regretting it afterwards has taken my mind off waiting for emails. No sign of the mail I'm waiting for - but I can live with it. The fear of regretting it was the main thing that stopped me getting a tattoo before. After four or five years of seriously considering it I knew I wanted one, now I have got one and really like it - there is no fear now - others will be following soon. My major custom job - a bloody great dragon on my back - will probably have to wait until November until it is started. If I go on holiday in October it may have to wait until the new year so that I will have enough holiday to get it done - I reckon it will be at least five days off to get it done - I'm assuming they won't want to work on a single customer for a full day - if they don't then it could probably be done in two, I think I'd want to take a break though - eight hours in the chair with short coffee breaks would be very boring I wouldn't be able to watch him work either. If I don't go on holiday in October then I'll be able to start earlier, and will have plenty of holiday to spare. I need to have a look into how much holiday I have today - I could possibly have fourteen or fifteen days left - if I have then I don't have any problems. Today is the first time in a long time that I have worn a t-shirt to work - probably the first time since I stopped working weekends. I don't really feel right - some people wear t-shirts all the time - but I feel almost too relaxed. It had to be done though - it will be a lot less disruptive to my day to roll my sleeve up when someone asks to see the tattoo than to take my shirt off. All I feel is hollow and bruised. I've not really noticed how relevant to me the lyrics of this song are. All alone, except for my rage. Nothing to give - nothing inside. This is a superb concept album - the descent of a man into depression and suicide after being left by his girlfriend. I scratch and tear - until it bleeds - I do not want - I only need. This could be me in a couple of years - I may never get to the girlfriend stage so don't have to worry too much... God I'm a miserable git. The sun is reflecting from the windows of Guy's hospital right into my face - I think I'll move. Very cool wispy clouds overhead. Looks pretty grey in the direction I'm going. I must be in a good mood today - I'm actually enjoying     feeling the sun on the back of my neck. By you. Bayou. I wonder if Louise has had a chance to read those Poppy Z. Brite books yet. I haven't been reading much over the last couple of weeks, but the thought of re-reading Lost Souls or Drawing Blood is quite appealing. I just remembered that if I don't go to Texas in October then I'll be going to New York... Maybe I still won't have extra holiday allowance left...