Fast train on the slow tracks. Wobbly. Now that people know we are going the right way they have all shut up. Things back to the usual insularity. Fear brings people out of their shells. I wish I could share my fear with someone - but all my fears are internal. Blackfriars. Usual journey time: 5 mins. Tonight's time: 50 mins. Hope there aren't problems finding a slot on the rails on the way back. Getting withdrawal symptoms. Been having too much fun online recently - not good for my material - I'm supposed to be lonely and brooding. Actually I still am, but now I have company - and misery loves that... Listening to a heavyweight song on a lightweight album. Splendid. Light rock, but with one song that pulls no punches. Come clean. Fucking really fucking matters. True. Well the thought of fucking anyways - I survive well enough without the physical reality of it. Or do I? This site was called "truly diseased" earlier today... I guess it's just not my lucky millennium. Maybe the next one will be better. I don't really feel able to open up tonight - usually I would just rant on in that vein for ages - but I know there are a few new arrivals here who aren't used to my ways. It would be nice to break them in slowly, but this site isn't supposed to be about the reader. I'm leaving the point. If there is one. I guess missing the point is the point really - if anything the point is psychological. The need to rant. Heh, I had a random ICQ from an American psych student a week or so ago. She said she was going to read my diary, and then I never heard back. That should frighten me, but instead it amuses. I do have some cool regulars though. Can be a bit bizarre talking to people who have seen that deep into my psyche... The women who have fed back on the site are pretty cool - but the ones to feed back make up less than 10% of those I have sent here - most of them have never said a word to me again... The funniest feedback comes from the blokes though. I've had "Have you tried Prozac?", "You should get yourself a whore. They're just girls doing a job, there's nothing dirty about it" and now I've had "Your site is truly diseased". All comments were made with the best intentions though and I love them all.
Tuesday, 14 December 1999
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