Friday 13 August 1999

Ramble

A good night. A few drinks and a good talk with a friend. I am not drunk - yet am happy to be on my way home. A few weeks ago that would not be the case. I made my long-term webstats a bit more readable earlier - I'm not sure how I managed to fit it in with the other stuff I did - I noticed that just before her last email Erin looked around my site again - she had looked at this page before she wrote that I was a wonderful person and just needed to be more positive. Wow. I signed up for an email-SMS gateway - I have not received any messages yet though :( The intro messages didn't appear until an hour and a half after I registered though.

Buzzing thoughts
Fuzzy feeling
I can handle things
It is all right
Keep telling myself
Maybe it will prove true.

Trying to think positive
Negativity creeps in
I try to resist
But habit prevails again.

I really fear. I am. What. Hum. Lonely bleed. Disease to feed. Tongue needle vein. Demise. Despise. Hate. Hurt. External scars fade - internally they fester.

I am trying to be positive - why is it so hard? Why do I not like me? I am forcing myself to believe things I would never normally believe - am I being positive or just setting myself up for a fall? I am not cHeWtOy - I cannot talk like I write an email, web or ICQ. There is no time to edit - you need to be spontaneous - I don't have the bottle to be spontaneous. It takes me forever to pluck up the courage to say anything non-work related when talking to a girl. I am an arse. West Hampstead. Everyone leaves. There is no eternity but the eternity of pain. I will always hurt. If I must be lonely I think I'd rather be alone. Lost souls. Which way now. I am going to re-read the entire conversation.

Why?

I don't know what I want , but I know I want it now. Why are you haunting me?.I hate being me. I wish I could be someone else for a change. Put my life on hold until I pluck up the guts to come back. Torn. The past couple of weeks have brought me back from the brink - thank you. I may not be happy with my life - but at least I am now content to be me. I only think about myself. I want to think about you. I want something real - I only have my fantasies. The fantasies of a sad bastard with no creativity or innovation. I hate.