Bugger. Looks like the low reading was the blip... Oh well, I knew I needed to lose weight - I now have a reason to start. Is it enough to motivate me to get up off of my fat arse though? It would be a lot easier if I didn't work so far from home. I suppose Monday and Tuesday I could spend an hour down the St Albans swimming pool. I could start skating to the train again. Two bad things about that 1) the weather won't hold out much longer 2) I will stink when I get into work. I will never take up jogging because it bored me silly when I tried in the past. I suppose I could get one of those electric muscle stimulation things and use it in the office - that would help my stomach... Swimming isn't really an option - I am planning more tattoos, and you're not supposed to go swimming for a couple of weeks afterwards. Bugger. The thought of going to the gym bores me. Is there any type of exercise that I would enjoy and there aren't any barriers to me doing it? Not that I know of. It's looking more and more like I will have to give up drinking for a while to lose weight. Not sure if I have the willpower to do that :)
Tuesday, 31 August 1999
Got mum to give me a lift into town. Saved me a 20 minute walk, but made me very early - so here I am again. Didn't sleep very well at all last night. Kept waking up for no apparent reason. I have a minor headache. A little hungry too, that will pass. No more.
I really need more sleep. Not because I am tired - I'm not - but my legs are killing me. At least I haven't got cramps.
Monday, 30 August 1999
Goddamn! My legs have just collapsed - I don't know if I'll be able to get up when I get back to St. Albans - or if I'll be able to get up in the morning... I hope I don't get cramps tomorrow morning - cramps really bite. Plenty to drink, so I will sleep well. Can't write anymore. Rest. Taxi. Bed. I've just noticed that I didn't put any socks on before I came out earlier. Bizarre.
Well the queue for the train was great fun - completely lost Dan and Kings - would be going a different way from here on anyway... That was fun. Eating all sorts of crap - pissing against walls - walking for miles while listening to reggae. No - not a Friday night down the paradise bar - a Monday afternoon / evening at the Notting Hill carnival. Train is even more packed now - people must have walked to Edgware to avoid the crush on the train. Didn't work. Have a break, have a kit-kat.
Fun, fun, fun. A train ride to the carnival. Am meeting the others at Charing Cross - a computer crowd again. Hope there's not too much shop talk - I try to stay away from computer talk at weekends. Hah, says the guy that spent most of yesterday and this morning on Everquest. Actually I did take a fair amount of offline time - enough to watch "Get Carter" and the new B5 movie. Not as bad as Matt said it was, but certainly not the best B5 thing ever. Time to put that cash cow out to pasture, she's all milked out. Hope he doesn't screw up the comic he has just started writing - it had a promising first issue. Finished reading the big book of Grimm this morning. Superb. Silence - no music anyway - just the sound of the train on the tracks. Pulling into Kings Cross now am going to be very early. No matter - I'm sure I can find something to do. Need the loo - back in a tick... Relaxed. Doctors again tomorrow - hope the BP is still low. What can I do at Charing Cross? Bookshop outside is good for wasting some time. Could get another coffee. If the bar is open I could get a beer. I wonder what the bank holiday opening hours are...
Saturday, 28 August 1999
What is it with me and gay blokes? It's the second time in two days. Second time in one day actually - the first time was well past midnight. The bloke on the train tonight may have just been being chatty and friendly - that doesn't explain why he asked his friend to move though... Am I giving off some sort of subconscious signal?
I am stone cold sober and yet cannot follow simple directions. I am shit. My mind is constantly elsewhere. Where is it? I have no memory of grand fantasies, or even petty fantasies. Time passes. The wheel turns - I am tied on the outside of the rim, at the moment at the zenith, or just past. Soon I will be crushed at the nadir once more. It matters not. I matter not. One more face in a sea of mediocrity. Time to read some more. Bunch of loud gay blokes on the train flirting with each other. Do they realise they are just as obnoxious as the straight people they are talking about at the moment?
Out to see a movie. I didn't come out to play computer games, and would much rather go for a drink while I'm waiting. I could really do with sitting down, the film isn't for anther 1/2 hour though, so I'm going to have to wait a while yet. I have never really liked shoot em ups. Bored now. More later.
Just bought a lead for connecting my palmtop to my phone. Dangerous. I may organise the diary so that I can update it from anywhere. Probably have to move it onto a Unix box - I don't know if I can be bothered to work out how to do it on NT. It's good working for an ISP - you get a choice of platforms for your site. It's a pity Mum's PC broke down and she had to hijack the PC I was going to co-locate :( I think I'll sit back and read the Big Book of Grimm - comic adaptations of fairy tales from the brothers Grimm in all their original gory glory. Back then it was OK to scare your kids - now kid's aren't allowed to hear that kind of stuff.
Dream diary: I was getting a plane from Paddington (I'm not sure how, it isn't an airport...) to Germany, I ended up getting on the wrong one - somehow I was in the rear compartment with someone I knew (I can't remember who, I think it may have been Simon from University, but I'm not sure) - the rear compartment was depressurised and we kept getting blown about and had to hold onto the seats to stop from getting dragged out of the plane. For some reason we stopped at Bedford (again a place with no airport). We got out and found that the plane was actually bound for the Seychelles - we went to leave the station and bumped into a woman in the foyer who seemed to have all of the travel brochures printed that year crammed into her bag. We discussed flight plans and the reasoning behind them.
I can't believe I just did that - walked about 3 miles in bare feet - the last stretch down some of the worst tarmac imaginable. A crusty old bloke in the town asked me if I wanted to go for a drink, as there was a place around the corner that was open until 3:00 - No thanks, I think I'll continue on my way home...
Friday, 27 August 1999
I say I feel better at the moment. That I feel up. So why am I sitting in the middle of a graveyard at nearly one am? I like it here. I am away from the bustle. There is no-one else around, I feel no urge to prove myself. No urges at all. Just peace. The stars are out tonight. The street lamps should be turning off soon, the view of the stars then should be amazing. Last track on the CD. I will sit here and enjoy the silence when it is over. Moonlight glisters through the trees. The church bell has just struck a lonesome one. I can't believe that I am sat here barefoot in the middle of the night. It is so peaceful, I don't want to leave, but I am tired and it will take about 45 mins to walk home. A barefoot walk across the lawn and then home. G'nite.
Am I real? I really wish I wasn't. I will probably make a trip in tomorrow purely to get my comics. I may try a few bookshops to see if they have any decent books with dragon art. Eyes too big for my stomach. Just bought a half chicken, bought a tin of Spam earlier. Haven't eaten either. I found myself singing in the office earlier. Not good. I don't think anyone noticed. Waking up beside you by Stabbing Westward. Top tune. Job's a good un. Nothing to give - nothing inside. Vacuum. Void. What do I have to offer? Mental corruption. There are some good health & safety warnings in Psyber Magick by Pete Carol. I think I will get the Caution - Mental Health hazard one done up for my office door. Dead. Might as well be. Nothing. Oblivion. Time for a break.
Here I go again. Time moves on, the surroundings stay the same. I have booked a couple of days off - a tattoo followed by a visit to see my new relation. Almost said nephew - would have been a bit of a faux pas - it could be niece. Will find out in just over a week. Self centred devil spawn - this makes me durable. I love this album (Sexless Demons and Scars by Jack off Jill). Going to the carnival Monday - Dan is calling me on Sunday - assuming he can get his phone sorted out - otherwise he will be SMSing me. Or using a phonebox. Plutocrat. I feel weird having money left at the end of the month. It's not really my money - it's credit - but that doesn't really matter. I can still spend it if I want to. Super asshole, super nothing. Wash off the scabs dear, or fingernail pick them clean. Do you want to hate me angel, cos I hate you now you're gone. Lost in music. Devil has a black dress so her arms can bleed. Gone. More quotes than content. London bridge. Time for food.
I wish I had thought of banishment by laughter last night - I would have cheered up much quicker.
Give me something pretty, I hope I'll never be, I'd rather be creepy, and very strange. Not sure what to write again. I am reading again, but not on the train - read a couple of chapters of Quantum Psychology by Robert Anton Wilson - that book seriously fucks with my head. I shouldn't read more than one chapter at a time as I don't take it all in. It is my intent to not to use the word 'is' or the verb 'to be' wherever an alternative exists. I don't think I can do this without doing a few more of the exercises in the book. Annihilation of the self. A worthy goal. The Tao is what remains when you subtract the universe from itself. The deconstruction - reconstruction of the self is something I have never been very good at. I need to go back to the early exercises of the Chaoetica. Focus slips. Fade to grey.
Thursday, 26 August 1999
Geek. Freak. Pariah. Messiah. Call me whatever you want. Call me something. Give some sign you have noticed me. I am so boring - it's no wonder people don't notice me. I don't matter - and this is how I feel on a good day. I am beneath contempt. I need something. Incomplete. I don't know what. I have been judged and found unworthy. There is no appeal. I will abide by your decision your honour. I will watch the sunset now.
How pointless was that? I didn't go to get my comics because I wanted to go for a drink, and then everyone leaves after I've only had time for one. I almost stayed on alone, but I would have just got pissed and depressed by the fact that I was alone. Leaving now I am annoyed, but nothing terminal. I wish I was the sort of person that could chat to people in bars, but I'm not, which means I can only go for a drink when other people are up for it. I am seriously fucking annoyed, but I have no reason to be. I hate myself when I am irrational. I hate myself most of the time. I hate everything most of the time. I just need to stew in my juices for a while, I will be OK later. Maybe. I am seriously tempted by the idea of buying a bottle of vodka and drinking myself into unconsciousness. I don't want to tread that path again. There are many things I have done in the past which scare me. Temples are throbbing, why am I so angry about a few drinks? The first time in a long time the inner demons have been quiet - was looking forward to having a few drinks just for fun. I think it's the lack of company that upsets me more than the drinks. I like sitting there talking about nothing of consequence - I am really disappointed it isn't going to happen. It's amazing how talking to someone and trying to maintain a facade of calm politeness calms you down. That and the thought of food. Ordering burger king has calmed me.
On a roll. In the zone. Goddamn I'm good. I can't believe I am so happy about getting here in time for a train. Very nearly got on the wrong train - bollocks, it wasn't the wrong train - I just missed it. Looks like the lucky streak is over already. Back to being a twat. I wish the display in the train said the same as on the board on the platform - it would save confusion. Oh well. Only ten minutes until the next one - should be under a minute late. Not too bad.
Sweet as a nut. I wish all emergency recovery procedures went that smoothly. Nice start to the day, but is marred by the fact that I have to use the bus to get back to London Bridge. At least I didn't have to wait long (bus pulled up just as I reached the stop). Traffic is heavy - will be lucky to make it in time for the 10:00. Whoops.
I think something snapped last night. I went to bed bitter and twisted and awoke feeling chirpy (lol, maybe not chirpy, but certainly better than is usual recently). I don't care much anymore. I will enjoy what I have and let everything else fall into place. I don't know how long this feeling will last - if it is a bad day at work it could be over by lunchtime - if not then it could last a few months. This diary may well start to peter out - it's main purpose was as an outlet - if I have little to vent then I have no reason to fill it in. Mess. The emptiness in my chest is still there, but it doesn't bother me. I find myself getting lost in the music. I will give up on this entry and listen...
Wednesday, 25 August 1999
Hadn't eaten all day, but that doesn't excuse the pure piggery I just indulged in. Thai chicken with grilled vegetables. A lamb samosa. Two packs of Nik-Naks. A family sized bottle of raspberry Yop. An orgy of food. Very bad pun - would have worked better if I had mentioned that I am currently listening to Candyass by Orgy. Or perhaps not. "Don't waste your fucking time" - sage advice, but I do not heed it. Nil attention. I wish I knew Latin. I don't know why - I would just like to. I want. I need. Do I? I don't know. It feels like need - but I have done without thus far, so it is probably want. Not as impulsive as most of my wants. I can be patient sometimes - but only within certain limits. I. Filthy. Sick. Unpure. Unclean - beware. Train. Tightness. I will always be me. A slave to apathy. Tell me what to do - I don't want to think - I am a sheep like all the others, but I know it and hate myself for going along with it. Dumb. Dizzy. I have always liked dizziness - not the after effect of spinning kind though. I always like the dizziest characters - Willow, Harpo, Phoebe, La-La, Andy and Lucy in Twin Peaks, Stan Laurel - the list continues. I guess I am attracted by insanity. Not sure how that works - I thought it was supposed to be opposites that attract. Sky like scales. How should I feel? What are those around me feeling? I don't care. Only the interior matters. The rest can go to hell. Heck. Twist. Skeins of pain and hatred weave the fabric of this life.
I think I left my PC on in the office - oh, well. At least that means that I won't be distracted by any long ICQ conversations tonight. Is that good or bad? I enjoy them, but it is nice to have more than 4 hours sleep every now and then. Everything broke today. Not fun. Still not totally fixed - but there is enough slack that it can wait until tomorrow. Side trip on the way to work. Can't take too long - I need to be in by 10 for a meeting :(
I wish I was going to Plumstead - there have been 5 53s go past within 2 minutes of each other. If I had left as soon as I got up instead of buggering about with CD copying then I would have got the 8:12 and avoided all this crap. 25mins. I could have walked it in 10. These seats must have been designed for people with no legs. My knees are pushing the seat in front of me forward. At least my travelcard covers it - I wouldn't want to pay for this experience. Plainclothes ticket inspector - said thank you to everyone except me.
Just when I thought everything was back on track they cancel all of the bloody Greenwich line trains. Arse. I am on my way to New Cross - I can't be bothered to walk it, so I'll get the bus. I wonder how long I will have to wait... Feeling kind of down, but still have hope. Why?
Forgetful bugger that I am, I have forgotten my phone. It's on my leaning chest of drawers. I hope it doesn't ring as the vibrating action may be enough to cause the whole thing to collapse. Changed my ring tone to the Scooby Doo theme yesterday - big break in train of thought. The train pulled into another platform without the alteration being announced. A rush to platform 1 followed by a game of sardines as far as Kings Cross. Time to finish the thought I was in the middle of - I really liked my new ring, but everyone else thinks it's crap. Typical. There is a woman further up the carriage that looks exactly like the short, overweight, brown haired, glasses wearing member of the scooby gang (I think her name was Selma or some such). Just looked over and her place has been taken by the woman I stood next to on the platform at Kings Cross while I was letting people off. She is lovely. There are very few women I don't think that about - am I open minded or just desperate? My money is on the latter, doesn't matter anyway. Nothing does.
Radio has just announced delays and cancellations on the Thameslink. Lovely. Am going to get all four of those CDs copied in one night. How's that for service?
Tuesday, 24 August 1999
It is difficult to write about happiness. The story I am writing at the moment involves a period of contentment for the primary character. I have just written a short piece of this part of the story - it is very difficult to write of things you only know from second-hand accounts. I don't know if I will ever finish the story for precisely this reason. I have been listening to the same track on repeat for about three quarters of an hour now. Time to listen to the rest of the CD. Couples on the train again. How can I think happy thoughts when I am so down. I feel a Buffy quote coming on: "Excuse me, but could I borrow her?" It would be so amazing to sit there with an arm round her shoulder like that. Exchanging her for someone I genuinely cared for would be even better. Better than perfection? That would be pretty damn good. Feet distract me again. This time it is the bare feet of a total babe - not the brogued feet of a businessman. I need sleep. Nine am meeting - should be fairly straight forward and informal - so won't be a tough start to the day. Not long since I ate, but I am hungry again already. I am going to look into the window for a while.
Another late night. Have been for something to eat instead of just drinking though. Could see the train pull out as I entered the station. Every half hour at this time of night. Not too long to wait. Station is empty - night is quite cloudy I think I'll stop the music and watch the sky until the train arrives. Things to do when I get back. Start a CD copy going - I've got four to copy - it will be much less boring if I leave it to copy unattended. Bloke has just sat next to me - no space to spread out for stargazing. Bollocks. This is one of those songs that says the things that I wish I could have thought of myself - I wish I didn't like this. This is not the way I picture me. Something about this so very wrong. Starting the chorus with a screamed "Goodbye" is a piece of genius. Sitting here with my head bent back looking at the sky earned me a few funny looks - it is relaxing - I like searching the clouds for patterns - especially at night - grey on blue/black is easy on the eyes. Different. Unique. Loner. Freak.
Lazy. I want it all, but can't be bothered to go out and get it. I deserve this pain. I deserve to be alone. Numb inside. Empty. Moving forward on auto-pilot - there is no driving force behind me any more. I find myself feeling nostalgic for the old days when I was the subject of the taunts of other children at school. The desire to do better than them gave me fire inside. Now there is not even smoke left. A vacuum sucking me inwards. The OAP express today. I wonder if there is an old peoples convention somewhere. Inside my shell I wait and bleed. When I cut myself for the first time I did not know it was so common - I didn't have a single song that mentioned it - now I have dozens. The first song that mentioned it is the one I relate to least - NIN - the downward spiral. Trent hurt himself to prove that he could still feel - not my motivation. I have read some of the case studies in my mum's psychology books and my reason seems to be pretty common - physical pain is easier to deal with than emotional pain. The frustration flows out of the wound with the blood. Another one of those entries that I want to censor. I have got to stop thinking about how those reading this will react. It doesn't matter anyway, that episode of my life is over - I still find myself thinking about it though - not surprising when I have listened to at least three songs that mention it this morning. Coffee splash - misses my shirt - not like me. Do I regret? No. The only reason I stopped was the scars. Another grey day. Was looking through a training brochure with Claire yesterday - it was a winter/spring brochure - I asked whether there is an autumn/winter one out yet - realising as soon as I said it that it is only August - summer is not over yet - it just seems like it. I don't like summer - autumn is by far my favourite season.
I looked up the origin of the word "nightmare" this morning - I was wrong about the origins of the components being obvious...
Interestingly, the mare in nightmare has nothing to do with a female horse. Instead, it comes from Old English maere 'goblin, incubus.' The word was nigt-mare in 1300, and it referred to an evil female spirit afflicting sleepers with a feeling of suffocation. By 1350, it was nytmare and in 1440 it was nyghte mare. Mare 'goblin' is a cognate with Middle Dutch mare, maer 'incubus,' Old High German mara, Middle High German mar, mare (dialectical modern German Mahr 'nightmare'), and Old Icelandic mara 'incubus.' Mare comes from the Proto-Germanic word *maron.
Nightmare was used to describe 'a bad dream caused by an incubus' in the 16th century, and by 1829 it was used to describe 'a bad dream' in general.
Monday, 23 August 1999
I have had an idea for a prose story. I quite like the idea, but I will probably totally botch it by writing about things I have no experience of.
I have a knot in my chest. My stomach rumbles and the tightness above it amplifies the movement into a tremble throughout my upper body. I am not cold, but am shaking. I do not want this. I. Writing stops. Staunched flow. Scabbing over. Haemophilic thoughts. I have always had a thing about bleeding - when I was very young I would always lick any cut I got. I still do to this day. I managed to avoid licking my tattoo. The poster about "how to care for your new tattoo" in the tattoo parlour said not to chew it. Aimed at people with tattoos in places such as the back of their hands or such like - brought about amusing visions of people chewing their arms or legs. Two stops. Time for bed. I will try to synchronise again, don't know if it will work. Some bloke has his foot up in the air - it keeps appearing in my peripheral vision and distracting me - he's getting off here. Radlett. What a fucking stupid name for a town. Then again what names aren't? I live in a town named after a saint. With my views about organised religion that really bites. Hmmm, all that stuff about homosexuality and then I find myself enjoying myself listening to Placebo. Quite a few books I like feature quite explicit homosexuality - I have no problem with it as long as there is no chance of it featuring me. If I did then there is no way that I would enjoy Anne Rice or Poppy Z. Brite so much. I wish there was such a thing as normal and that I conformed to it. It would make life much easier.
Relaxing. It's been a looong time since I walked across central London at night while sober. It loses a lot when you are drunk. During the day the city is too crowded - it's like an infestation, some kind of plague. At night that is different - there is enough life that you always know you are not alone, but not enough that your personal space is constantly violated. A time for contemplation. Got the direction wrong and ended up hitting the main road nearer Euston than Kings Cross. Started daydreaming at the end. Sentimental slush - bump into someone I know (the who changes several times during the walk) going in the same direction - she's cold - I lend her my coat and we walk with our arms around each other's shoulders. We arrive at the station, kiss briefly and then part. That's as far as it goes. I wish something like that could happen in real life, but even if I had met someone I would probably have offered my coat, but the arms around the shoulders and kiss would never have happened. Sitting between two touchy-feely couples - just what I don't need. The train will be here soon. More couples on the train. Talking about inconsequential things. I will listen to music - it's less depressing. Back in my own little world. Pain greets me with open arms. Welcome home.
Should I give up on women and try to become gay? I have had several propositions from guys in clubs, so I probably wouldn't be alone for long if I did. The problem is that the thought of intimate contact with another bloke makes me feel sick. So does the thought of getting intimate with a woman - but that's a "scared sick that I would get it wrong" feeling rather than a gut sickness. I'm not that lonely. What right do I have to feel so down? I have a job that I enjoy (most of the time), I have enough money that I can waste it on toys like CD players and this palmtop... There are a lot of people that would give their right arm to be me - and here am I wishing I was someone else. What an ungrateful bastard. Charing Cross soon - maybe a walk will clear my head.
Same shit, different day. Pathetic story of my so called life. Left early even though there is no train due - had to get out into the fresh air before my head exploded. What does anything mean. I feel like a walk tonight. I might get the train all the way to Charing Cross and walk to Kings Cross. That should calm me down a bit. Constant desperation is wearing me down. Still quarter of an hour until the train - why did I come down so early? Why do I ever do anything? Poor impulse control. I envy your demise. No stars in the sky tonight. Breeze is cool. Soothing. Was a clumsy twat again today - had a carton of drink and it leaked - turning the chest of my shirt a bright shade of pink. Bloody typical. Ugly on the outside, rotten on the inside. Tightness in my chest is getting too much - time for a rest.
Watched the Wicker Man this morning - one of my favourite films - I love the sort of film where a white Christian policeman with a high moral standard can be the bad guy. He's the bad guy from my point of view anyway - a lot of other people would probably disagree. I am standing here poised to write and yet can get nothing down. Thoughts flicker through my mind - nothing substantial - unsubstantiated judgements on those around me - he's an arsehole - she looks gorgeous - why is this cunt sitting so close to me, there are plenty of other seats. He's gone now - I wonder if he was psychic... Being psychic would be a total nightmare - first impressions are rarely good (mine aren't at any rate...) It would be hard walking around knowing that everyone hates you and not being able to blame it on paranoia. I often find myself wondering about the origin of words - some are fairly obvious, such as breakfast and wardrobe - no back story there just a functional definition. Other words not so much - where does nightmare come from - it is a composite word with obvious roots, but no obvious meaning - I bet there is a pretty cool myth behind that phrase, I could probably find out in about fifteen minutes on the Net if I wasn't so apathetic. End of side-track - back to the plot (what little there is) Judge in haste, repent at leisure - more of a paraphrase than a quote - seems to be a pretty good summation of me. I like to think I don't judge by appearance - but I do, I can't help it. I try to keep unsubstantiated stuff relegated to my internal monologue and when the conscious mind kicks in I try to give a fair chance - but it doesn't excuse the snap judgements. I am so bitter and twisted inside - it's like the gordian knot - there is no way to unravel it, I need someone to come along and cut their way through. I am dwelling again. I need a hobby - one that involves a face to face interaction with others - but I can't think of anything worth doing, something that inspires me to get off of my fat arse. Instead I have my solitary hobbies - music, comics, the Internet, tattoos. Why do I want to decorate my body in places no-one will ever see? Bugger, didn't do this weeks picture for the diary - I knew there was something else I meant to do last night. Enough. Work now.
Creative journalism, I seem to be a master of it internally - I see things where there is nothing, I probably do the inverse too - but I don't notice that. I wish I could be more objective about it. Random thought with a lot of weight behind it: am I afraid of women in some way? Probably. If it had been a bloke I was talking to last night I probably have kept going until he told me to fuck off (or pretended to go offline and added me to his ignore list) but it wasn't and for some reason I felt uncomfortable saying exactly the sort of thing I pour out regularly here. Not quite true - there are only a few blokes I will open up to. I guess I have just known rejection before and do not want to know it again - it just hurts more from a woman because it reinforces my fears about being alone forever. Aaah! How I love to rationalise things away with pseudo-psychology early in the morning.
Sunday, 22 August 1999
After more than an hour of trying to get my palmtop to Sync I have given up. Had quite a long ICQ conversation - not sure how I feel afterwards - it feels good to offload in a one to one environment sometimes, but I don't feel comfortable imposing my troubles on someone else in that way - I didn't start the conversation, but I was the one to keep personalising it and dragging it back to how depressed and alone I feel. Happy being single. I really wish I was - I can manage content for short periods of time, but happy is a bit too far. Most of the time the emptiness just hurts.
Harvesting has begun. I love the smell of fresh cut straw. Wet hay bales. Lovely. Clouds above. A pity - I would like to look at the stars later, but they will be obscured.
A trip through fields like patchwork as darkness falls.
A patchwork quilt
Of greens and browns
Laid across the land
From horizon to horizon
Wrap me in my homeland
Comfortable in the earth.
People rush to their destinations
There is no point in rushing
The pain will always catch you.
I am a total mess as usual. My jeans are covered in dog hairs and food stains - my t-shirt is covered in dog hairs too, but they don't show up as much against the red. I smell and don't care. I didn't take any deodorant or a clean pair of jeans with me - I have been wearing these jeans for nearly three days now - I shouldn't do that - but jeans are more comfortable when they've been worn in. I should take more notice of my personal hygiene - it's one of those "It's never helped before" things - I have no motivation to do it for myself so I don't do it at all - that pattern repeats so often. Fractal. Holographic. My life can be summed up by apathy - it's never worked before - almost a motto. Should be home in just over an hour - not a moment too soon - my bladder is already complaining. Two weeks nearly since last hearing from Erin. Sooner or later everyone goes away. I will write another email, but expect no response. I am going to go for a while but will be back soon.
I am a tactile person. I don't like passing by behind glass - I like to be down in the dirt - I like to touch and smell the landscape, to taste and hear it - reducing it to vision only butchers the experience. I'm going to go out for a long walk when I get back - I haven't done that for a while - I'll take shoes with me, unlike the times I did the communing with nature thing in Southampton. It was an interesting experience - but digging the glass out of my feet afterwards was a real drag. I may end up paying a visit to the graveyard at the head end of town - there's nothing quite as relaxing as a graveyard at night. I fear me so badly. I think I'll watch the Wicker Man when I get back - I love that film - while I don't agree with human sacrifice I get a real kick from the pagans triumphing in the end - not falling under the iron boot of Christianity (also Edward Woodward is burnt to death at the end - any film where that happens has got to be an instant classic). Why do I publish this? I keep finding myself wanting to censor where I repeat myself - because other people won't want to hear the same thing over and over again. That wasn't the reason for starting this - the idea was to rant to the world to get all of the bottled up shit inside out into the open, so it doesn't just fester internally. The idea of censoring in order to keep the reader interested is antithesis - I certainly don't want to upset the regular reader (I work with most of the regulars, so it would be a little silly to alienate myself from them) but I also don't particularly want to pander to them. If I don't get the repetition down then it is going to fester and only the first mention of any topic will actually be of any use to me. At the end of the day I am doing this for selfish reasons.
My nephew Luke seems intrigued by what I'm doing... My mind is stuck in a groove. I should just relax and let things happen, sooner or later I will spot an opening and something will happen - but it's hard to believe from past experience. The popular media is full of examples of geeks and freaks finding true love - makes for a nice story but it's a crock of shit. I actually like quite a few films & TV programs like that, but can never bring myself to believe them - and that's coming from someone who sometimes finds their eyes watering during soap operas.
I really miss having dogs. They love so unconditionally. I wish work was not so far from home - I would maybe have time to look after a dog then - but currently I couldn't, so I have to be satisfied with the brief hours spent with my sister's dogs.
I still find myself amused by an entry in Dan's diary from a week or so ago. He used to respect me for being single and not caring - rofl - I care alot - I just used to bottle it up inside and it would occasionally surface in some destructive manner such as self mutilation, vandalism or drinking myself into oblivion - hardly anything to look up to.
Even kids TV programs depress me at the moment - the presenters are too gorgeous. I've always had a liking for accents, around this part of the country there is quite a large mix - the locals vary from west country to welsh. Had a bacon sandwich for breakfast - my usual messy self I now need to change my t-shirt and wash my beard.
Saturday, 21 August 1999
I am so forgetful. I can remember things like the command to check the number of free inodes on all ufs partitions in solaris, but go to the bathroom and have to go back a second time because I forgot to use the toilet. Why would anyone want to be with someone like me. I am not spontaneous, I am not the sort of person to remember important details such as birthdays, sometimes I make people laugh with a witty comment - but more often no-one will get it - that's when being ignored comes in useful. What are my good points? I am usually honest and occasionally funny. That's about as much as I can think of without help. Not much. I should focus on my good over my bad, but it is hard when there is so little of it. Sleep comes to relieve me of duty...
A sudden feeling of despair washes over me. I don't want to die alone.
Arm itches. The itching is worse than the needle. When I was out on Friday I said it didn't hurt - which Clara immediately disputed - I don't think it did hurt - sure it was uncomfortable, but it was easily bearable. I guess I just have a high pain threshold.
Planes and helicopters pass overhead (to and from Heathrow) no traffic jams in the sky... Not unexpected ones anyway. Wearing my sandman t-shirt with Jill Thompson artwork. No-one else can draw delirium like she does. The delerium mini series that Neil Gaiman was supposed to be writing an age ago never materialised - I think Jill Thompson was going to do the art on it. I hate it when something I am looking forward to gets cancelled. 13:24 and we've hit the M40. At bloody last. I keep forgetting to look up the train details for getting from London to Hereford. I'm gonna need to make that trip in a couple of weeks... It will make a change to travel a different route on the train.
Little fluffy clouds
Death & disaster rule the news
What is the point?
Neck still hurts. I am going to my sister's this weekend - there may well be a big update on Sunday night. Was kinda depressed when I got back last night - a little time on the Net sorted that out. ICQ rules - a brief exchange of paranoid delusions about people I work with soon picked me up again. I don't know if I'll be able to keep this up in the car for long before getting travel sick. Chaz explained the "waffles" Russell's recipe that he put in the internal newsletter - I understand it now, it would be funny if it had been attributed to someone that had even the remotest chance of it happening to (well, mildly amusing anyway). Obsessing on fantasies again. I wish I wasn't so obsessive - I latch onto something and don't let go. Too hot to have the window up, and if I leave it down it blows my hair into my face. Lots of traffic today on the M25 - could be a long trip. Radio on - mildly amusing. Just realised that I haven't brought my coat. Can't buy anything - probably a good thing. I was very disappointed with the range of art books in Forbidden Planet yesterday - not a single decent coffee table book of dragon pictures - a couple of contenders, but either bad art or not enough pictures. How am I supposed to get across my vision in the tattoo parlour without some example art? I can't draw myself, so have to rely on the talent of others. There weren't many examples of non-oriental dragons in the tattoo magazines I bought either. A very funny picture of a guy that has the two Ronnies tattooed on his back - laugh? I nearly shat. Not something I want myself, but if he's happy with it then good luck to him. Half an hour to get to Kings Langley. Not good progress. Chaz suggested getting the ronnies tattooed on his bollocks - I think Rigsby and Miss Jones from Rising damp would suit him better - or perhaps Worzel Gummidge and Aunt Sally or Terry and June or Hinge and Bracket... lol - waiting in this traffic is driving me insane. More insane. It is far too hot. Stopped again. It'll be time to turn around and come back by the time we hit the M40. If we ever get that far. Police shoot past in the hard shoulder. I like the current Madonna track but don't know why. It has none of what I usually like in a track. When I like a chart track a fear comes over me. Chilled bone-deep. I wish it was a physical chill. I hate the heat. The sunlight burns. Almost up to the maximum size for an entry - start a new one before hitting the brick wall...
Friday, 20 August 1999
Chaz wants a picture of me smoking my pipe for an Uncle Russell column in the newsletter - Here goes...
Again the third train will arrive before the second. I'm glad I didn't write their sorting algorithm. On the train again. Total arsehole on the train. I can't think - I will read some of the less challenging of this weeks comics.
Couples night. I think being alone in the middle of a crowd of people you know has got to be worse than being alone in a crowd of people you don't. Did I enjoy tonight? Difficult question to answer. First time in a while that I have gone out with people I know and felt like the fifth wheel. Some of the evening was enjoyable - but most was trying to think of things to say to make me seem less of a cunt. I hate me.
I am so up and down at the moment. I am also side to side - but that's just the train. Up and down probably isn't right - more like down and not so down. Not too crowded down here - good job really - it's hot enough as it is. Train goes past without stopping - causes a nice cool breeze. Why?
Last entry was the first I've done while walking. Easier than in a cab. Seat is warm, recently vacated. Train arrives - not mine. Shopping this morning - I was going to go yesterday but had to come in earlier than I was expecting. Would have been better if I hadn't gone - I think I ended up overcomplicating things. My train. My body clock is screwed - I just said this morning - it's half three in the afternoon! Happiness abounds. I wish some would rub off on me. By the time I got home this morning both my alarms had gone off - waking mum hours before she needed to be up. Too warm in this train. I want to hit something - feeling so frustrated today. Probably not a good idea to go out drinking tonight - will just get hammered and abusive. That probably won't stop me though. Need to relax. I'm gonna try some meditative techniques - bbl. That's better - it's amazing how a few minutes of internal silence can calm you down. I'm going down onto the underground now, so the calm probably won't last long. I'll take it as it comes.
I ache physically today. I woke up with a hideous cramp in my leg - it still feels stiff now. My neck aches as well. I feel like curling up in a ball and waiting for death. I would be no more lonely, and wouldn't have to put up with the constant clutching at straws that I find myself doing after the most mundane issues. That probably doesn't make sense, but I know what I mean...
At times like this I regret taking my curtains down. Sleeping is hard with light streaming in... I used to get pissed off with them a lot more when they were up. Another one of my irrational hatreds - I hate curtains. Similar to my hatred of vacuum cleaners. G'Nite.
Wasn't much chance of getting back without sleeping - I dozed of a couple of times in the last entry... Managed to only take catnaps though - didn't miss my stop. What a bloody boring entry.
Very tired. I have been up for nearly 24 hours now, and bed is another hour away. Didn't go as smoothly as planned. Must keep eyes open - don't want to end up in Bedford again. Hungry as well. Hungry for many things. I am in real danger of falling asleep. Can't think - here's the train. Quiet going this direction - usually that would be a good thing, but this morning I could do with some bustle. No music today - I don't feel the need - first time in ages I've done that. So tired that the seats on the train seem comfortable. I probably won't go straight to bed when I get back - I should do - I only have time for about 6 hours sleep before I will need to get up again. Why do I always get so horny when I'm tired? Waking dreams of naked flesh. Fast to St Albans now.
Thursday, 19 August 1999
Wasn't sure whether to upload last night's entry - didn't upload most of it due to the fact that it was a long string of consonants with no vowels - I haven't got a clue what it said, so I couldn't clear it up. Eight pints and two double tequilas is far too much for a Wednesday night - I was still up in time to go to work at normal time the next morning - but I didn't have to be in until 17:30, so laid in bed and watched a video... The part I did upload is a bit sexist, but that's to be expected as I am a bloke.
Beautiful people every way I turn. My feelings on this vary from day to day - some days it depresses me, other days I find it uplifting. Today it tugs my heart in both directions. I like to see beautiful people frown - it's strangely satisfying to know that they have troubles too. I don't like thinking that - I don't want the pain of others to give me pleasure. I am very conscious of looking at people. I am not very good at eye contact - whenever I catch someone's eye I look away because I find it impossible to imagine that they would want me looking at them - so I look away to spare them. It's the beginning of a very long work day. Got up too early this morning - a complex task ahead of me in the early hours - I need to be fresh, but that isn't likely. Need to make sure I make myself a foolproof plan - if such a beast exists. I wonder how long it will take for Andy's copy of EverQuest to arrive. He is using my account until his copy arrives - we had our first clash today - Andy was playing when I connected and I took over his connection - it bypassed the character selection screen end I just appeared in the world - there were a few moments where I was "wtf? where am I?." didn't take long to realise though... All done. Bye for now.
Wednesday, 18 August 1999
A very interesting game of table football. I can't see the game, just the players. They should play every night... bouncy. Yum. A pity the twat that laughs like a girl is blocking my view most of the time. Maybe I should ask him to move :)
Writing for the sake of it. It doesn't seem right to me to write just for the sake of it - but it often seems to help the flow start, so I do it anyway. Thought about getting a major tattoo on my back: how am I supposed to keep it clean and moisturised? Maybe I could charge people to see it - you can see it, but you have to apply moisturising cream to it afterwards... Clouds sailing through the sky. I wish I could join them. Coffee break over - back to the writing... I hate not having anywhere to rest my coffee on the train - I had some interesting thoughts while drinking, but they are gone now. The smell of burning rubber overcomes the faint smell of shit that permeated the air when I got on the train. I honestly don't know which is worse. Surrounded by industrial decay. Phone rings - diverts to answerphone. At some point they are bound to put repeaters in so that coverage is extended into the tunnels. Until then I am unreachable while underground. Not that it makes any difference - I hardly ever get called anyway... They are supposed to be upgrading the Thameslink line so that it can support more passengers - I bet it'll be fun when they start the building work... It'll probably be at least another year before they start any of that though... Will take a break to make a phone call soon...
Tuesday, 17 August 1999
Companionship is a privilege, not a right. I do not deserve to be anything but alone, so this is how I will stay.
Had a few drinks. I had an ICQ conversation earlier which I have decided will be the basis of my first pre-meditated entry here. Tequila is kicking in. Dan & Dave decided to get mohicans for charity - I wonder if that idea will stand the cold light of day. OK, time for my bizarre conspiracy theory (not entirely my idea...) Computers (windows PCs especially) are predators - they hunt the unwary and unprepared. Ever wondered why your PC crashed at *exactly* the wrong time? It's because they feed on frustration, anger and despair. The science is that they only need electricity to run, but in reality this is like living on bread and water. They crave negative emotion, and if none is forthcoming they will find a way to generate it. This also explains why so many geeks are good with computers - the ambient emotional turmoil is plenty for the computer - it doesn't need to crash to generate more. My computer has more than enough to sustain it from my diary entries, and has no need to crash. This enables me to work uninterrupted by crashes and get a lot more done - ultimately resulting in much more comfort while working with computers. Surreal transaction between a guy in a suit and a bunch of trendies - I'm glad I can't hear it, it is a lot more mundane than it looks. He is clutching on his coke bottle like his life depends on it. I probably look the same with my bag of crisps. Who am I. I think I have lost the plot of my earlier rampant paranoia. The only serious problem I had with this theory is that I cannot believe that either Microsoft or Intel actually have the ability to put any intelligence into their software or hardware - but as I had pointed out to me - predatory cunning does not necessarily indicate high intelligence. As if I needed any help in being paranoid... There are people out there who believe this sort of crap too - people less alone than me. I wish I truly believed something - I could share that belief with someone. As a sceptic I have nothing for myself, let alone something to share... I want to fade to grey. There is a statistical chance that the sun will go nova tomorrow. If the many worlds theory of quantum mechanics all possibilities exist in perpendicular universes. This means that somewhere this will all be over tomorrow. Somewhere it was all over today. Joy. Rapture. Please. Pleas. Still far to go. I will get there eventually. Can I live in denial? Build a little fantasy world where I can be happy and retreat into it. I don't think I have a good enough imagination to think of such a place.
I have said that I no longer cut myself, not quite true - this journal is basically cutting my mind open and letting my thoughts bleed onto the page. It serves the same purpose, but leaves no lasting scar.
Has all trace of the positivity I gained recently disappeared? No, it is still there. I don't know if I like it - I dream impossible dreams, but nothing actually improves. There is more chance for disappointment - if you hope for the worst then you will never be disappointed. I am at heart positive - I will never give up on life, but I don't like the frustration it brings. I close my eyes and wish for all the bad to go away - but I know that will never happen. I hate the unknown. The impenetrable curtain that divides the present from the future - so much more frustrating than the funhouse mirror that divides present and past - this image is warped, but at least it is there. I sometimes enjoy the anticipation of what is around the corner, but not on a large scale. I am become a self fulfilling prophecy. I used to imagine that things would sort themselves out in time - I am not so sure now - I have seen the years slip by with nothing new but the surroundings - the room has been repapered, but the furnishings are still the same - just me standing shivering on the rug in the centre. I used to joke with a friend at school that I would have had a girlfriend by the age of twenty - he found my placing the event that far in the future amusing - I am now twice as far into the future and it has still not happened and I don't know why. Plenty of quiet people are not alone, plenty of ugly people are not alone, plenty of fat people are not alone, plenty of fucked up people are not alone. Plenty of quiet, ugly, fat, fucked up people are not alone. I am. What is wrong with me? Is it just because I am so tied up in my own self doubt that I don't see the opportunity? Or is it that the opportunity is never there to begin with? I guess I just need to wait until my fear of loneliness exceeds my fear of rejection - if that ever happens - my inhibitions should crumble at that point. How many more years? One? Two? Eighty? I wish I knew what I need to change - I could then decide if I am willing to change it. A quick note to Dan - there are no song lyrics in this entry, just in case you were wondering :)
Mind away from the job again - I just missed my train while daydreaming - and I don't even care. I noticed that it was my train with enough time to run for it - but I couldn't be bothered. Thoughts centred on fantasy that could become reality if it wasn't for my lack of confidence. I hate the games we play. I admire honesty and expect it from others - I can never quite bring myself to practice what I preach - I will always answer honestly if asked a direct question, but I am only able to follow - never to start things off. What if there was someone right for me, who was like me in this respect - my fear of rejection could cost me my only chance for acceptance. Sounds about right. Peachy. Time for the next train - I will get this one.
Dilemma. As I sit here watching Witchfinder General my mind is elsewhere. Uncertainty leads to inaction - my standard response. Scabs are starting to flake - not looking it's best today - will be healed soon. Vincent Price is divinely evil. A lot of pipe smoking in this film. They swim - the mark of satan is upon them. Wow - old man Steptoe as a horse seller. Children roast potatoes in the ashes of witches. How could anyone ever believe such atrocities could be committed for the greater good? Such has always been the way of organised religion - the inquisition, the crusades, witch hunts (numerous examples) - I have read the Malleus Maleficarum, the inquisitor's handbook on the powers and practices of witches. Written by a mysoginistic monk in the fifteenth century, it is the cause of the death of thousands of innocents. I have no problem with people having beliefs, but see no good in the organised religions and the way they force their beliefs on others. I should have picked a different film - I've not even got out of bed and I'm bitter already. At least the bastard got what was coming at the end. Not before ruining a few more lives in the process. The aerial in my TV is not plugged in - I have got a very snowy monochrome image of the Teletubbies with no sound. I think I'll get dressed now.
Monday, 16 August 1999
Another day done & dusted, ripples from today will affect future events, but that is true of any day - really needed a drink, an unexpected meeting meant I couldn't get down there with Dan at five thirty - ended up going down at nine thirty with Paul, talked Lynch for a while and then parted. Headache. Again. Need food - have only eaten a chicken sandwich today - more days like that and I might even lose weight... Overall opinion of the tattoo was good - ranging from a surprised "that's actually quite nice" to a couple of "very cool"s, even one "I love it" - I didn't do it for the opinion of other people, but it is a nice bonus. The city is a symphony in grey (probably misquoted - sorry). Very true - I'm not a visual enough person to actually come up with it though... The cityscape from the train looks uglier at night - I've always enjoyed walking in the city at night though...
I am sitting here trying to think when I became a miserable git. I think it was somewhere between the ages of twelve and thirteen. I can't remember being this way at First year camp at secondary school - I was definitely brooding at second year camp though - that's eleven to twelve years of habit to break - not easy - I could use some help, but that isn't likely until after it is done. Catch 22 - good film, I never read the book. So many books, so little time. Not hungry enough to finish my sandwich. I must have something wrong with me. So tired. Can hardly think. Will eat the other beef strip I bought and then give up on the food. I find these strips of uncured leather to be strangely appetising - another reason to fear me :) A starless sky over featureless ground. Sodium glow lights the way for iron horse. The road is empty and so am I. The ground is damp, but the rain is long gone. Take the night and wrap it around me. Eyes ache from constant phosphorescence - I need to get out more. Pale skin, never revealed. Empty carpark - one stop to go. Taxi? No, I shall walk. More time to think - do I really need it? Stop.
I will becoming an uncle for the second time on Monday 6th September - my sister is booked in for a caesarean.
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...
Sunday, 15 August 1999
Sitting here I am suddenly overcome with a sense of emptiness. The last couple of days I have avoided feeling down, but now suddenly it is back. I am sitting by my computer and the rest of my room is a total mess from when I dug out the bits needed to upgrade mum's PC. Here's the current state of my bed:
I've also decided that each page of meanderings will have a picture of me taken at the beginning of that week. You've probably already seen it by this point...
I am really not looking forward to tidying the stuff away - I won't do it properly as that would take about 2 days to do for this room, but it will still be an incredibly boring job. I wish I had someone to share it with, or even just to watch me and to talk to me while I do the job on my own. I hate loneliness. I think it's time for some music. I'll listen to Controlled by Hatred / Feel like Shit, Deja vu by Suicidal Tendencies. That's better. Don't know what to do first... procrastination is ruling again. I've actually managed to get two things that I have been putting off for ages done this weekend - one of them I have been putting off for a few years now... I should feel good, but it doesn't seem to matter. I think my chest of drawers is broken - it has a definite lean. I wonder how long it will be before I replace it? probably when the drawers no longer open - I may put it off longer than that knowing me... The webcam was level when this picture was taken:
Find no hope in nothing new and I've never had a dream come true - I love that song, the best mix comes later though. Sky is clouding over. I have cleared up enough that my bed is clear. I will be able to sleep without having to do any work - that is something at least. God, I am such a lazy bastard. I knocked the stack of videos off of my speaker - Videodrome fell behind the chest of drawers and I had to lean round the back without putting any pressure on it - if I leant on it it would probably fall on top of me. Quick ICQ conversation with Andy - had what sounds like a very nasty virus on Saturday - I hope I didn't get it while out drinking with him on Friday... Have to pause here - one of my favourite songs of all time...
Tattoo feels warm - I think I can actually feel the healing. Some small scabs have formed on the darkest parts - doesn't look as bad as I thought it would - you have to look pretty close to see them, not obscuring any detail in the tattoo... Just looked to my left and it has started raining without me noticing it, it looks quite heavy, but I can't hear it at all. Bizarre. Well, I've sat here typing for an hour now, and no real inspiration has hit me - I will try something else now...
I have just found my webcam while looking for something else entirely - here is a picture of my new tattoo...
Diane - some things we cannot find anywhere, but we dream they can be found in other people. The woods are wondrous here - but strange. Nadine's return to childhood is the product of a twisted mind. This whole program is an act of twisted genius. Andy Brennan is a whole damn town. Too much moisture is an invitation to disease. Are you looking for secrets? The dull rumble of the waterfall soothes. I wish I was there. The moment between Pete and Tajimura is purely there for repeat watching - not many people would remember on a single watching. He is Bob - eager for fun - he wears a smile - everybody run. Another Lynch episode - this should be fun. Why are all the navy people bouncing balls? I am a lonely soul. He's alive. New shoes. Everybody's hurt inside. The sax player goes briefly insane. The giant returns. It is happening again. Poor Madeline. Poor Leland. In another time, another place he could have been a seer - a shaman priest. In our world he is a shoe salesman down among the shadows. The conversation between Harry and Pete about Josie reminded me of a moment from Lost Highway - this episode isn't directed by David Lynch, the direction is a very good match. Not a star in the sky. The last few steps are always the most difficult. They got the wrong man - they've found another body. Time for a food break. Albert's back. Another repeat watching nugget - white fox. You are on the path, you don't need to know where it leads, just follow. Andy Brennan is Stan Laurel. I'll catch you with my death bag - you my think I've gone insane - but I promise I will kill again. The Twin Peaks athon is going to have to go on hold - I've got to install Mum's PC. I hate installing Windows.
The Twin Peaks athon died a death last night. Thirteen and a half hours left. Can still make it within the weekend, but I will no longer achieve it in one sitting. A quick wash of the tattoo and application of skin creme and I will be ready to start again.
Saturday, 14 August 1999
Diane - meanderings on the Twin Peaks athon. Audrey is insane in the first couple of episodes - I hadn't noticed before. The world is a dark and dangerous place. With coffee and donuts all will be well. Don't forget the pie. Bob will catch you with his death bag. She's full of secrets and sometimes her arms bend back. The man from another place dances on. Diane - the funeral was a joke. With the fight and Leland Palmer falling on the coffin not to mention Albert nearly holding up the start. This must be where pies go when they die. Sheriff Truman can balance books at a glance. Three hours in and I have taken a short break to trim my moustache and beard - look a little less wild now (also gives the benefit of not getting in my mouth when I eat. Laura speaks to the recorder like I speak to my Palm. They shot Waldo. Hurting me. Bite the bullet baby. See you on the other side. You made me do it. Trout heading upstream. Au revoir Jaques. Didn't notice the bizarre hunchback tailor in one eyed jack's. That was a damn fine episode - more twists than a twisty turny thing. They need a double length episode next just to straighten things up... Aaah! A pint mug of steaming black joe - just what the doctor ordered. The giant comes. I believe that the giant is the dream soul of the old room service guy. The owls are not what they seem. Cat faced goddess. Everybody wins. It's not so bad as long as you can keep the fear from your mind. I would very much like to make love to a beautiful woman that I had genuine affection for. My sister has had another fight with Paul - we may be gaining a lodger for a while. Mares eat oats and does eat oat and little lambs eat ivy - a kid'll eat ivy too, wouldn't you? Another visit from Bob. Norma is one of those Lynchian characters that is bizarre due to being too normal. The hospital food subplot is is a stroke of genius. Albert laughing about Nadine is hilarious too. Lots of pie in this episode - must have been at least a half dozen flavours mentioned so far. Why do the sisters of a major character such as Donna not appear for so long? Get happy! Better to listen than talk. Diane - nearly a third of the way through now. I have just taken a break to clean my tattoo and apply a new coating of skin cream. No sign of any scab forming - just a soreness to indicate the healing process. I should probably get some sleep to help things along - but at the moment I am quite happy in my Twin Peaks athon. I may decide to end it at the end of the Laura Palmer case - or I may go on as far as Jean Renault or even as far as the black lodge. The grandson magician is a very cool character. Which one do we burn. Where does Jerry get all of his cool food? The smoked cheese pig is so cool that it hurts. The log lady. I am only going to last until the end of the Laura Palmer case. That is another six or seven episodes if I recall correctly - about half way. I am very, very tired. The first visit to the orchid house. Another of Laura's secrets. Meals on wheels. Are Maddy's visions of Bob indicative of abuse by her Uncle? Albert's path is a strange and difficult one. Dick Tremayne is an absolute arse. He used to flick matches at me. That's our man. I have just realised who James reminds me of - Ed from Northern Exposure. Without chemicals he points. Mike is released. Candy's dandy.
Bugger - can't find the web cam - must still be in my office somewhere - I thought I had brought it back. No pictures of the tattoo today.
That wasn't bad at all. I have heard conflicting reports about how painful tattoos are - I now know that I can breeze through it. I'm gonna book a day off in early September so I can go back for a band. There was a really nice one with a wolf's head in the middle that I was looking at while I was in the chair - similar to the other one I was after except for the head. I'm glad I went for the one I chose - it looked pretty good on the page, but the guy doing it (Nutz) decided it needed some shading and improvised. It turned out a lot better. He thought so too - and took a photo for their gallery. It's a pity that it won't look as good on Monday, the first chance I'll get to show it off. It'll take about a month for it took look it's best - the shading is a bit sharp at the moment and needs time to soften out a bit. I'll dig out my web cam and take a picture after I have taken the dressing off.
Apparently the band I want will take too long for a Saturday session - they try not to do anything too major. I've found a cool one with a dragon curled round an ankh though which he can do. He's just making the stencil now - he should be ready to start in about ten minutes.
Nearly time to go for my first tattoo - I've beaten the apathy - a small victory, but proves it can be beaten.
I have a high boredom threshold and low patience. I don't mind what the answer is - I just want the answer. Why do I get so obsessive. It's just a holiday to meet a friend. I have covered this subject already. No more to say.
Friday, 13 August 1999
A choice - do I read my email now - or do I wait until it is no longer Friday 13th. I will decide in a few minutes. Choice didn't matter - no email anyway.
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.
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.
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.
I seem to be managing to pick all the good ones first - Congo Bill - I thought it was going to be some story about a giant monkey - should have known to expect more from a Vertigo mini-series. Black ops, unexplained murder & mutilation in the jungle investigated by US intelligence operatives. Harsh. Cool. No cinnamon syrup left - a black coffee replaces my usual latte. Damn good coffee! And hot! I think I'm about due for another Twin Peaks marathon. I wonder if I could watch the whole lot in one go. Large pot of coffee to accompany me - from memory there is about fifteen hours of it. If I was to start Saturday afternoon then I should finish early Sunday morning. The ending would be pretty damn cool after sleep deprivation - it's enough of a headfuck when you're awake! Sounds like something to keep me occupied tomorrow. Cool. You're the truth that I've been seeking - 'cause my whole life I've been lying. Only you can make me whole - just one touch - you complete me. I love this CD - I keep seeing it advertised as "the new Stabbing Westward album" - it's not new - it's a reissue! It was new about six months ago! Train time again. I am not your saviour - I am just as fucked as you. She said she didn't want saving in her very first message. Lost soul. No answers here. Does anyone have a map?
Bizarre film last night - it was a bloody good vampire B-movie with interesting cinematography and a weird moody soundtrack, but right at the end they went a bit too OTT - the surreal lesbian sado-masochism scene was totally unnecessary - it's good to finish a film on a surreal note though... The cHeWtOy review for Curse of the Vampire (can't remember the Spanish name Llamada des Vampiros or Lambada de la Vampiros or somesuch) is a thumbs up if you love cheesy b-movies. I think that bracketed subthought was a bit too long. I have spent far too long saying nothing in particular about a certain email. I am going to try not to mention it again until it arrives. Friday 13th - a date that bodes. The Machine Head cover of Message in a Bottle is pretty good - not experimental enough to be a truly great cover though. The new Hellboy story is off to a good start - not too sure about the demon in the box knowing Hellboy's secret name - he overheard them talking about it in Hell? Why the Hell (whoops, unintentional - honest) would demons share things like that? Even assuming a demon found Hellboy's secret name - Hellboy has a pretty important role in the coming apocalypse, his secret name would be a thing of great power - a demon is hardly likely to share that power with all and sundry. Maybe I just don't understand Mike Mignola's vision of Hell. Backup story was inked by Ryan Sook - I thought he was just a random Mignola clone - but if he is appearing in Hellboy then he must be an authorised clone. Time to see if I have any more really cool comics in this months batch...
Thursday, 12 August 1999
Top Ten really is very good - kinda like hill street blues with super powers... The primary protagonist - Toy Box - is a very cool character - both figuratively and literally. A female Jack Knight with a badge. An interesting comparison - the more I look at it the deeper it runs - an inventor father, following in fathers footsteps, retro technology, laid back and deceptively capable. The city is the real heart of the story. Two fifteen CDT. Ack. Churn. Bwahahahaha!!! Now I have to decide what to watch - I will lose myself in a film while leaving my PC connected and relying on new mail notification to bring me back. I think I'll start with a couple of Laurel & Hardy shorts and then move on to something darker as the night deepens.
Amazing how much time you can waste when you have nothing to do. On the slow train this evening - means I can get a seat - if I wanted to sit on the fast train I would have to wait at least another half hour. Haven't looked at my webstats today. Still can't think what to write. I'll read a few more comics.
I spend far too much money on videos & CDs - I just bought a pretty wide selection of films - from Laurel & Hardy to a gore drenched Spanish vampire movie via Babylon 5, a hammer horror and Austin Powers. Still can't find Dracula with Bela Lugosi though - only the Christopher Lee version (and the terrible Gary Oldman/Keanu Reeves version - but the least said of that the better. My KFC is getting cold - I'd better take a food break for a sec.
Tired. Hot. Bothered. The rain was helpful in resolving the heat issue. Not enough time before the train arrived. Drivers door propped open - he must be hot too. Time passed without leaving an impression. I have no recollection of the last couple of minutes - blank slate. Blank stare. I have thought too much today. My brain just wants to shut down. Writing on auto-pilot. Crackle. Head pains - sharp tonight - not a dull ache. I am tired. I will be waiting up until I get the email - or until midnight. I have lot's of work to do tomorrow. With the tiredness I now feel I need more than 6 hours. Any later than midnight and I won't be worth anything tomorrow - any earlier than midnight and I won't be able to sleep. Still scared - but no longer shivering (outside) my stomach is churning - now I have eaten I can feel the butterflies again. I need another look at the last email. Be more positive. Stomach still churning - but in an uplifting way. Wow. Time for Down in it by NIN - apt at the moment. I used to be so big and strong - I used to know my right from wrong - I used to never be afraid - I used to be somebody - I used to have something inside - Now just this hole that's open wide - I used to want it all - I used to be somebody. There are no more words - I am pure thought and feeling.
Clear, yet unfocused. Warm fuzzy feeling replaced by shivers - only to return minutes later. Prince Charles looks about 947 in a picture in the guy next to me's paper. He will be senile by the time his mum pops her clogs. Darting around all over the place. A nice soothing rain - not too hard, not too cold. Today I love life. Bizarre. Train pulls away - mine is next. I've got to concentrate on advanced features of project management software this morning. Train. How much will I take in? More than I expect - I always do. I am at one with the machine. Sometimes I wish everything in life was based on logical rules - I would actually be able to contribute socially without feeling awkward - without the lows the highs would be hollow though - not the dizzying spirals that they are now. I am dizzy now - I want the spinning to stop, but am hoping that it will pick up pace.
The train is delayed by a couple of minutes - not only will I be able to catch it, but I will have time to get a coffee too. Things are going too well - what is going\ to break?
Shit! It's still 10 minutes until my train arrives, but I'm not going to be on it. The ticket machines are out of order and the queue is longer than I have ever seen it. Looks like I'll be late.
I am shivering. Is it the cold, the drink last night or the fact that the longer I wait for this email the worse the fear gets? I hope she's not agonising over how to say no without upsetting me - I really don't want to cause her any pain. Hopefully she has just not read her email yet.
Wednesday, 11 August 1999
She hasn't replied. I don't know if I will be able to sleep. Aargh.
Lydia, oh Lydia - oh have you met Lydia - Lydia the tattooed lady. I can't think tonight. My whole life is based on an email at the moment - what will be the result? Ack. I wish I had GSM capabilities on this thing. I only want to read one email. My Buffy comics are in my bag this evening - I may be able to calm my mind enough to read some of them. As it is I will probably just add them to my unsorted pile. A waste - there are probably those that would make good use of them. Never mind. Mark seemed to find the train journey we shared to be pretty bizarre - I will add an entry here anyway. While we were on the platform a woman asked us if we had any free change - I didn't, so said no. If I had had some I would still say no. She asked if we were homeless - when I said no she said "you are now". The home guard officer on the train shielded us with his wings of steel. In time Batfink will be replaced - it's hard luck. I am supposed to be able to think about this, but currently I cannot. I just want to go to sleep. I don't know what to do. Mister will you please help my pony - I think it's his lung. An hour to go. Bugger. I am not sober and I am not down. This is new to me. Moving as far and as far as you can. Your dreams are full of blood & gore - now they're right outside your door. They're gonna get you. Nininininini. Wannabe. Wannadie. Unexpected training has saved me from low productivity. It's six o two. She has probably written by now. I hate the uncertainty. I wonder how long it will take me to pluck up the courage to read my email when I get back. I watched the eclipse today. Pretty funky - nothing special compared to the email I am hoping for though. I am going to read her last email a couple of times (yes, I am sad enough to have it printed out and placed in my wallet)... I really, really hurt. I love it. I still can't believe that email was written about me. Maybe she has her address book confused. I am feeling very good - a sure sign of getting shot down in flames. I hurt, I am scared. This is not changing. Scares. Scars. I don't know if she knows that my scars are more than metaphor. I have told her about this site - but have not informed her about any updates. I have not seen any sign of her in the stats. When she says that my sight is great she may just be blaming it on the depressing poetry and the freak page now. Will she notice the other stuff and be scared off? I hate. I hurt. I scar. I heal. I feel. Wow. Let me feel good.
Getting hard to think - she is probably up by now - how long until she checks her mail? It has been somewhen around nine at night here the last two times she has mailed - I will be getting ready to eat then. I won't be able to check my email until about one am. I am scared. I hurt. I like it.
Thoughts spiralling out of control - can't keep up. Both up & down. Someone cares. All the BS I've been churning around inside for so long shot down in flames. Why have I not woken up? Waiting for the punchline. Visions of a fat bloke in big brown underpants in a trailer park - is she real or some sad guy's pretence? A guy as sad as me. If she is real then has everything been because she thought I sounded sad and needed cheering up before I topped myself? Has my ranting been an imposition on her? Is my asking to meet her face to face going to scare her? As much as it scares me? All inside is questions - it's 2am CDT, no answers expected for hours... I can't breathe properly - am I clutching at straws? People get off, others get on. Does anyone else feel this torn? I wonder if this is how normality feels. Stop the world, I wanna get off. A rollercoaster ride too far. A brief interlude - thinking of what to ask in the interview I am conducting Friday. Glad I didn't put last night's question off until tomorrow - expecting an answer on Friday 13th would be very not good. I have always been a logical person - how did my superstition and love of the occult come about? Too many late night horror movies as a kid. Couldn't find Dracula with Bela Lugosi last time I looked for the video - I'll try HMV & Virgin tomorrow if I remember. Comics tomorrow - not a big week, but some cool stuff. Top Ten issue 2. Hope it lives up to the promise of the first one. Alan Moore is doing so much at the moment - and so well too. I thought that with that many comics every month they would seem diluted - but each one is two dozen pages of sheer brilliance. Calming down now - trains of thought back on a straight track. Almost ready for work. I need another coffee first though. Wow. She told me I should be more positive - I am trying (very trying) - but it is so difficult when people ignore what you are saying. I told the woman twice that I wanted black coffee - I get to the train and find she has given me white. If I had had my mind on the job at hand I would have noticed when I was still in the shop - there is no time now, my train is here. I'll drink it anyway, but that's not the point. I'll try to enjoy it - after all this is the new shiny happy me, overflowing with confidence... lol, maybe I should take it one step at a time - I'll try to tone things down to miserable git level... TTFN
Aaargh! I can't believe I actually sent that email - hope she doesn't take too long to reply, I might die from the anticipation...
Tuesday, 10 August 1999
I should be sleeping, but after the email I have just written my heart is racing too fast. Hopefully I have just arranged to go on holiday in Texas to meet the mysterious Erin. Emails to her in the past have usually just flowed out naturally - today I had to sit there for almost an hour to get the bottle up to write anything down. She's been so good for me over the past couple of weeks and I really want to say thanks in person. I like having her as a penpal - at the back of my mind there is a little voice saying that if we meet then maybe things could go further - that's too scary too even think about. The little voice has never yet been right in a situation like this though. This is the only time in my life that I have been more afraid of the word yes than of no. I just can't believe the way I am feeling about someone when I have no idea what she looks like. For all I care she could be the bearded lady in the local freak show. She is a really caring person and has been so patient in listening to my rants. I am very very scared about what happens next. I think I have just written everything I didn't want to write yesterday morning... not as bad as all that after all...
Damn, ran out of space for the last entry. I think I was pretty much finished anyway though. I make everything into a crisis. In actuality I have only ever asked about 3 girls out in my entire life - most of the rejection I have experienced has been from things like when I was constantly asked out because of dares at school. Rejection recently has been due to me being drunk and offensive at the time. How could I ever feel confident in a relationship knowing how much I lie to myself? "I lie to myself, but I won't lie to you - honest." I wish I had a bigger capacity for deception, but I just can't do it. I have a logical mind and logic says that you can't expect to get a correct answer from incorrect data.
A parting. Sad. My emotions are held too deep for me to feel anything strongly. I would very much like to be an openly emotional person - but I have spent so much time holding things in - afraid someone will laugh at something I hold dear. I don't know where I'm going with this - my head hurts and I can't concentrate. I will lose contact through apathy. It has happened before and will happen again. Thirteen minute delay - the hoard of city salespeople are annoyed. They obviously don't use this line much. I am tired. I can't remember what I have written. Announcements hurt my tender head. Whirr of passing train. I really want to be home. I just want to collapse into my bed and sleep forever - back onto early shift tomorrow - will probably get to sleep for about six hours. They are making announcements almost constantly - the sales types are smoking like chimneys, comparing sales figures and making very lame jokes. Apparently the guy next to me doesn't like dogs - I do. I need music - but don't want to wear the headphones in case they crack my skull. I wonder what these guys sell... It's probably something lame like double glazing. What does it matter? I guess thinking about them stops my introverted monologue from getting too depressing - doesn't stop it from getting boring though... Well the idea was to write whatever I am thinking. Does this mornings reticence break the spirit of this journal? If I have found one thing I am not willing to write then I am bound to be able to find something else. A very depressing music selection - Icon by Paradise Lost. Depressing both because of the music itself and the memories... Time spent alone at university - going for days at a time without speaking to anyone. A dark time. Were there ever any light times? Memories of primary school are mainly good, but the darkness was apparent even then. Reduced to tears in the first few days by a teacher who thought I was stupid because I had messy handwriting. This is all becoming about boring episodes from my past. What of today? Is my life really that boring that there is nothing to write about? What happened today? Got in at midday for a meeting - I was due in at one - the meeting didn't happen until one anyway. In meetings constantly until about six thirty. Caught up with my emails (or attempted to anyway) managed to tidy up and add some error checking to my scripts needed for my current project. By nine my head was throbbing, so I left a little early and stood on the station platform for a while hoping that the cool air would help. It didn't. Had a conversation that I couldn't concentrate on in the train. To be honest I didn't want to concentrate on it - the day was over, and I was keen to let it die. Now we are up to where I started this entry. Hardly a stunningly productive day. I don't seem to have had many of those in the past couple of weeks. I like my job, but it becomes harder and harder to say why. Meetings are eating more and more of my time. An uphill downward spiral. I like who I am, but sometimes wish I was someone else, someone who isn't lonely. I have said that I hate myself before - that isn't quite true. I just hate being me. I hate my apathy - I can accept on an intellectual level that I need to get up and do something, but I can't actually get up off of my arse.
The air conditioning in my office is broken. The heat and concentration have conspired together to bring about a headache that is about to split my skull wide open. Ouch. Have nearly cracked the project that was due last Friday, but keep coming across new problems. Am I losing it? Venting to the world on this page has helped me to unwind a knot of tension that has been building for years - was that tension what gives me my edge? My memory is terrible recently - it has always been bad (for non-technical matters anyway...) - but recently... I hope I don't start losing the technical stuff too - it's bad enough not being able to cope with (or find) a social life, if I can't do my job I may as well top myself now. Company - more later.
Quick update: people keep recommending that I should be on drugs - either recreational or prescription. I am not sure how I feel about this - I have always felt this way - do I want chemical help to change? Do I want to change at all?
Coffee, my dark goddess. Pleasure & pain in one hot bitter package. Caffeine rush. Lovely. A light drizzle falls - blanketing the earth with a cool, comforting moistness. I have always liked water - the beach, a river/stream/canal, swimming pool, puddle, falling from the sky or just the trickle of a forgotten tap. I would love to go on a canal boat holiday like the one's we had while in the ATC - a superb lads holiday - take it in turn to steer the boat and operate the locks during the day - moor next to a pub and get absolutely legless every night. I was only 14/15 last time - under adult supervision - the supervisor's homebrew was what got me drunk most nights :) The nostalgia attached to those holidays is probably due to the fact that they both had a moment when I actually thought that someone fancied me. Wrong on both counts - the first time I was a little tipsy after a lager top (hey, I was only 14 - cut me a little slack) One of the girls asked me to walk her back to the girl's boat - I walked her back - had no idea what to say so I said nothing - we got back to the boat - said goodnight and then I went back to my boat - and spent several hours brooding over what I could have said. I knew her for another two years and she never again showed any interest in me, so I think she just didn't want to make the dark walk back to the boat on her own. The second boat trip we met a friend at a train station in the arse end of nowhere. There was a group of local girls our age hanging around the station. Everyone except me managed to pull. Later, when I was sitting on the front of the boat brooding to depressing 80s music (much like how I spend a lot of my time these days) my friends decided to tell me that a girl that I thought absolutely hated me actually fancied me. To this day I don't know if they were telling the truth or just trying to cheer me up. I can't believe I still think about that - it's nearly ten years ago! Let go you depressing git!
Luggage rack reflected in the screen. No luggage on it. There never is. Lots of internal turmoil at the moment - how much do I read into the comment "I am so glad I met you" I have always known that I cannot take a hint - it sounds like a perfectly innocent statement - and yet I am considering taking a holiday because of it. Am I clutching at straws because I am so lonely, or is she really interested? This is the first time I have found it hard to write as I'm thinking - I want to write, but I physically cannot continue, it's too personal and I know people are reading this. I'm going to stop now. Sorry.
I received an email from Erin yesterday with the following quote:
you come off like people should or do view you as a freak or something along those lines but I think that you are quite real and normal
My reply was:
Thanks for the vote of confidence - I don't want to be the sort of person that provokes email responses such as this:
"I've just checked out your web site and you scare this angel - you should look elsewhere! Sorry!"
But apparently I am... The overall response from people I know about the online diary I have been keeping has been good, but everyone that responded to my trial of match.com took one look at my site and didn't come back, except for you of course ;)
The only people I have met at clubs who seem interested in any form of relationship have been men, and I'm not interested in experimenting in that direction... Most girls I have approached have either ignored me or walked away. Although I find it difficult to approach someone without a few drinks inside me, so this reaction is understandable - drunk, overweight guy with weird hair and a goatee approaching - I'll turn my back and hope he goes away.
I don't know anyone else who left their teens without at least one serious relationship behind them - and here I am at 24 and have never even kissed a girl - surely there must be something wrong with me for that to happen...
I wish I could be this open in rl, whenever I try my stomach just ties up in knots :(
This is exactly how I feel, so I had to put it here...