Got up too early today. I could quite possibly be working until 8 tomorrow morning, but I was up at 8 today. Oh well, at least I have plenty of pro-plus at the office.
Friday, 31 December 1999
Infrequent updates. Train not busy, but very bouncy. Chatting constantly for a couple of days and I always drag the subject back to me. I have been told I'm cute - that I cannot believe. I've been called a freak. That I can. Fun fun fun. 2000 is already beginning elsewhere. For most of the people I have been chatting with it will be in about 15 mins. I'll have to get on the news sites as soon as I get into the office... And ICQ of course - can't live without it now. The wheel won't turn tonight - a good omen perhaps?
Tuesday, 28 December 1999
Back from my sister's and back in the saddle. I'm getting back into the depressed state of mind. Christmas will tend to do that. Lot's of happyjoykissfucklove on TV, staying with my younger sister and her two beautiful kids and seeing her with her boyfriend. And not being called at all. Not that I blame her - she would have to be insane to want to call me. I have to give up. To sit back and let life go on. Something will happen sooner or later. Something. Such as death. More likely than love... Nothing will change. Do I never learn? No I don't. Stubborn as a mule. I allow myself to be sucked into the hope that something is finally going right in my personal life when I know I am not ready. I am not a good catch - I am a shit. I am lazy, messy, impolite, unobservant, forgetful. I would be loving and loyal - but those are traits best found in a dog, sure they should be at the core of a relationship, but other things are needed as well. There is also the shell that I have built around myself. No-one and nothing gets in or out. I am not fully convinced of my lack of worth and that is where my problem lies. If I were fully convinced then I could either give up all hope of a relationship and get on with the other parts of my life, or I could kill myself now and do the world a favour. Or do the other parties in any possible future relationships a favour anyway... But I persist in the notion that perhaps there is something that someone could see in me. Sure there's the money, but I would never want a relationship based on that. I'd be better off just visiting a whore. My self esteem is low enough, without giving myself proof that the only way I can get laid is to pay for it. It's probably the truth though. There are very few subjects I can actually talk about, especially with strangers. Computers and my lack of a relationship are the two that seem to come up most often. I get very disillusioned with computers though and like to keep the conversation away from them unless things get desperate. Computers are so close to the core of all that's fucked up in my life. Maybe if I'd never found out about computers my life would have gone differently and I would have been forced to interact with others more often, causing me to have more self confidence. Not likely though - I probably would have just found the joys of double entry book keeping and become an accounts clerk or something. I should stop blaming the job. Plenty of computer geeks find love. It's nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact that I am a social misfit. No that's wrong too. Plenty of people don't fit in with society. I just don't fit with people fullstop. The only social activity I take part in is getting pissed, which is hardly a good way to meet people. I'm usually too pissed to remember my own name without having to really concentrate. No-one seems to believe that I am worse at chatting in real life than I am online. I am though. My online chat skills are pretty dire - I can hold my own in the insane babblings of the KK, but when things turn serious it's back to either computers, alcohol or my lack of a love life. And it's me that starts it every fucking time. I think I enjoy telling people how shit I am. Even more proof that I'm a total fuck up - as if any was needed. Yup, I'm definitely on a downturn again...
Saturday, 25 December 1999
Christmas day and the first time I've watched soaps in ages - I think I know why. Few happy relationships - many bad relationships but virtually no-one above the age of consent with nothing. I just don't empathise.
Thursday, 23 December 1999
Tired mind is not creative mind.
Morning after. No hangover. Nice. And I didn't even remember to drink lots before bed. Smooth. Got the mattress in the spare room at the Catford doss house. Great. For those of you that don't work with me - that was a reference to Dave, Tracy and Dan's place. Marvellous. All sat around in Dave and Tracy's room and watched the Ali G video. Fucking hilarious. Gareth has quite possibly the loudest snore ever. It was quite funny trying to get him to stop - I have memories of Tracy trying to wake him using a talking Furby alarm clock. At least I think it was an alarm clock 'cause I heard it going off at about 7 this morning.
Wednesday, 22 December 1999
My God! It's Swiss Tony. "Getting to Greenwich is very much like making love to a beautiful woman..." heh. Getting withdrawal symptoms from lack of email already... Booze will sort that out. Plenty of booze. Yay!
Is the writing less frequent because I am more happy? Because I am writing other stuff too which is creative instead of introspective. I'll have to link to it soon, even though many people will find it sad. Many people find me sad anyway though. Another night lost in booze.
Blocked. Interesting. Oh well, it's happened before and it's gone soon after starting to write utter bollocks. Hard to concentrate when there's messages flying in from all over the place. It's fun though. Not been feeling myself for ages. Feeling too up at the minute. No reason, just am. Bizarre. Need to finish up - time to go out for drinkies. Yay!
Tuesday, 21 December 1999
Cooold fingers. Drunk. Mucho pisto. No updates means readers are not happy campers.
Cold. Fingers numb. Brain numb. Will have time to rest soon. To sleep. To write. To shop. To wallow in self hatred. The phone will not ring - it's all a big misunderstanding. Need focus. Get blur. Hair in the gate. Blood on the lens. Carrion fodder. My true vocation.
Terse. The people you know are the ones you hate. People like my writing. Bizarre.
Headache. Not thinking straight. Ribs hurt - why?
Friday, 17 December 1999
Not gonna be as late as I thought. Except for the fact that the 8:52 is as late as ever...
I am going to be totally late. Was up in plenty - dressed quick - no email checking. Just before I left my arse decided to explode - on the ivory throne for 15 minutes and my train is missed. Bugger. Channel9esque ICQ conversation yesterday - didn't have a clue what any of it was about until about the sixth or seventh message. Well wahepa wehapa I suppose. Nichto moppa. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, entrails steaming in the snow. Can't get into the Christmas spirit - bah, humbug. Mmmm, humbugs...
Thursday, 16 December 1999
Oh boy. This is the week. Pissed out of my skull last night. Still in the same clothes and I smell the part. Slept on the floor. No need to mention which one. Another drink after leaving the office - got side-tracked - I meant to go get my comics - won't get a chance for a while now. Saturday - give me something to do between the work do and Gareth's party. Do I go home? I suppose it depends on how early I get up. Whether it will be worth it. Probably will be actually - should be able to fit four or five hours sleep in. Why do I get spots when I'm tired? Star. Ascendant. Sleep? Yes please... Packed train. Bloody Christmas shoppers. Email first though. And ICQ as well probably. Got myself a virtual life.
Wednesday, 15 December 1999
Wednesday already - where does the bloody time go? Trains back to normal today it seems. Not quite as crowded as usual though. The pavement repairs in St Albans came at the wrong time - nice smooth tarmac. Perfect for ice formation. Was slipping and sliding all over the place this morning. Not good for my ankle, bloody thing has started twinging again. The half hour stand at the beginning of the train journey doesn't help either. At least I am sitting now. Don't want to get up in fact - but I have to - it's my stop next. *yawn*
I am sure meeting some weird people online - I was actually called handsome last night. Bizarre. I'll have to make sure no-one has hacked my site and replaced all of my pictures... Lol. My webstats are going to be through the roof today - the master plan is working! Bwahahahaha!
Tuesday, 14 December 1999
Fast train on the slow tracks. Wobbly. Now that people know we are going the right way they have all shut up. Things back to the usual insularity. Fear brings people out of their shells. I wish I could share my fear with someone - but all my fears are internal. Blackfriars. Usual journey time: 5 mins. Tonight's time: 50 mins. Hope there aren't problems finding a slot on the rails on the way back. Getting withdrawal symptoms. Been having too much fun online recently - not good for my material - I'm supposed to be lonely and brooding. Actually I still am, but now I have company - and misery loves that... Listening to a heavyweight song on a lightweight album. Splendid. Light rock, but with one song that pulls no punches. Come clean. Fucking really fucking matters. True. Well the thought of fucking anyways - I survive well enough without the physical reality of it. Or do I? This site was called "truly diseased" earlier today... I guess it's just not my lucky millennium. Maybe the next one will be better. I don't really feel able to open up tonight - usually I would just rant on in that vein for ages - but I know there are a few new arrivals here who aren't used to my ways. It would be nice to break them in slowly, but this site isn't supposed to be about the reader. I'm leaving the point. If there is one. I guess missing the point is the point really - if anything the point is psychological. The need to rant. Heh, I had a random ICQ from an American psych student a week or so ago. She said she was going to read my diary, and then I never heard back. That should frighten me, but instead it amuses. I do have some cool regulars though. Can be a bit bizarre talking to people who have seen that deep into my psyche... The women who have fed back on the site are pretty cool - but the ones to feed back make up less than 10% of those I have sent here - most of them have never said a word to me again... The funniest feedback comes from the blokes though. I've had "Have you tried Prozac?", "You should get yourself a whore. They're just girls doing a job, there's nothing dirty about it" and now I've had "Your site is truly diseased". All comments were made with the best intentions though and I love them all.
This is fun. The train has been diverted miles out of the way. We are going the way that the driver announced, but everyone is panicking. Hehe, delicious. Lucky I've got nowhere to go. The driver has just switched ends of the train. Hassled as he walks through the carriage. He has just given us the same announcement as earlier, but they can't have been listening as they have all breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully we shouldn't be too much longer before getting back on course. I probably should have gone out on my own for a drink tonight - they'll probably have the signals fixed at London Bridge long before we get back to Blackfriars. Still - it's saving my phone bill I suppose - if I wasn't stuck on a train I'd be back at home on ICQ by now...
God I'm knackered. Second day in a row I've left the office hardly able to think. Could really do with a drink tonight, but no-one seemed to be up for it. At least I got the news server sorted today. One thing to cross off the list. Got the... I've completely forgotten what I was going to say. Arse. I hate when that happens.
Was totally spent when I got home last night. Too many things to do all at the same time. Still so much to do. I keep getting wacky crossover ideas. Twin Stakes. Two parts - a surreal comedy with gallons of DAMN fine coffee, followed by a gritty rematch when Cooper returns to Sunnydale post Bob. The nigh invulnerable Tick hears tell of the demons in Sunnydale and figures he should lend a hand. Myndi could come too. Add them to the stack of ideas that I will probably never do. The other crossovers: Miyu, the Marx Brothers, Father Ted (Dougal the Vampire Slayer? Watcher Ted?)
Monday, 13 December 1999
I keep getting hit by flashes of inspiration. I'm going to have to decide which way to go soon - I think I'm pretty much there though. Too much coffee seems to make me creative.
Sunday, 12 December 1999
Wearing a T-shirt featuring Delirium of the Endless - kinda on topic, what with me joining the Krazy Kult last night... Caffeineated Buffy fans - don't know why I haven't joined before now - it's so totally my bag, baby.
Thursday, 9 December 1999
Am I ready to lose yet?
Was only one scare yesterday in the end - must be losing my touch. The new girl thinks people who are over 20 and big sci-fi fans are scary and sad. Can't really see the conversation going very far... Especially after the email I wrote last night - I was very, very tired and ended bibbling like an idiot. Still, she does think Britney Spears is Satan - so maybe there is some mileage there. I might have another look around the celebrity graveyard site again later - that is a fun site in a fucked up kind of a way... Listening to fluffy American pop rock - am I going soft? Mmmm, pop rocks. Blasting powder. I want to fill my mouth with exploding candy and then take a swig of something fizzy - messy but fun. In a juvenile sort of a way. My head isn't working very well at the moment - yesterday I went to get my phone from my office before going to lunch - I ended up getting a can of tango and was half way to the door before I realised I had the wrong thing...
Wednesday, 8 December 1999
Late. Concealment. Thought I'd scared three pen-pals today - only two in the end though. Should have known that it would take more than that to get rid of des - I guess I need to try harder... :) should be home in another 45 mins. If I wasn't such a tit I wouldn't have just missed the Greenwich train... I've only been getting these trains for 3 years - how would I know what time they are? Oh FUCK. It's a stopper. Probably be closer to 11 than quarter to by the time I get home...
Chin itches. If only hair growth could be consciously controlled... It's hot in here. Feeling rather moist. There are a couple more stops until enough people get off to allow the temperature to return to bearable levels. Only 20 mins standing this morning - not bad. Mind not working yet - need more coffee. Made an online proposal last night, she said I should speak to her Sicilian father first - it all went horribly quiet after I offered to kiss his ring... I wonder if the double entendre made it through the export process... I am half expecting to get home to find a horses head in my bed. God, I must be really short of material this morning - shamelessly stealing it from last night's email conversation... The Poutine experiment went quite well last night - next time I'll do a smaller portion, and less gravy. If I still had my goatee it would have been a real mess - lucky I shaved it off really...
Tuesday, 7 December 1999
Network busies again. I wish this Vivao service allowed sms to email as well as email to sms. Bloody Multi-mail keeps disconnecting every time I send as well. Bleeding edge technology... Mind empty. No caffeine buzz remains. At least I'll sleep tonight... After sampling poutine... Every time I think of it I hear Paul Whitehouse at the back of my head "If you like cheese, and you like peas - then you'll love these - they're cheesy peas! (also available - new squeezy cheesy peas in a handy squeezable container)"
I really should get something more substantial than an Espresso with a queue that long, but as the song goes "I need a bomb, I need a caffeine bomb, I need a bomb I need a caf caf caf caf caf caf caffeine bomb"
Well isn't this just spiffy. Too hot. Too crowded. Too far. Too long. I am not listening to any music this morning - I wonder if that has anything to do with my weird mood this morning. More to do with online conversations last night I think - one with someone far away and very different, one with someone closer to home in more ways than one (no fair! I don't feel as unique anymore). Much more fun way of getting stuff off of my chest than this - soloing at the keyboard has been taking me to some pretty dark places recently... My mind is bizarre. Can pour out almost anything without hesitation online - but find it impossible in person. The Nov 19th cartoon on userfriendly.org is just so me it's scary. Is it the fear of eye-contact thing?
Damn clunky trains - can't drink my coffee because it is shaking too much. Have to wait until it has cooled enough to take a big swig - will be OK when it isn't as close to the brim.
Monday, 6 December 1999
Network is too congested to get a call out. I'll just have to wait until I get home to read the rest of the message. Guess the technology just isn't good enough for me yet.
Clawing my way out from my pit of despair. Lots of encouragement from others - that hasn't really helped though - my apathy has just taken over and killed the rage. Knowing people care enough to offer meaningless platitudes like "that sort of thing happens to everyone" and "one day you'll meet someone you're not nervous around" is nice. I don't have to believe what they say to appreciate the sentiment. I have got to give up on things for now. I am not ready. Maybe with a few more years of life experience under my belt. God, I wish that thought didn't fill me with dread - I've been alone for more than two decades - what is a few years more? Well it's a few years less to spend with the right person for a start... This unified messaging is going to play havoc with my phone bill - time to check my messages...
Sharing meaningless platitudes with a colleague on the train:
"Have a good weekend?"
"Do anything interesting?"
If I had told things straight it would have been:
"Have a good weekend?"
"Do anything interesting?"
"Laid in bed all weekend wallowing in self hatred."
There's not enough inside to fuel a white hot rage. Has subsided to a dull seething - the embers not even glowing enough to warm me. Cold. Engulfing despair is closing in. Soon no light will remain and my heart will once more be engulfed in darkness. Better than I deserve. Self absorbed wanker. Wallowing in self pity. Pity the sadness. The picture I took this week shows a hint of a smile. Just goes to show I'm only happy when I'm sad. I must enjoy fucking my life up. Twisted. At least my conscious and sub-conscious mind are in agreement - they both hate me. Trains are fucked up, I have no coffee. This sucks.
It's good to talk - kinda essential when you're relating with anyone who isn't you. Incomplete. Incompetent. Verbally constipated. In desperate need of a laxative. Words flow like glass - takes several millennia for each word to drip out. I think just about the worst thing I can imagine happening to me is some freak accident granting me immortality. At least when I think eternal loneliness I know it is only another 60 years tops - God that seems a long time. I'd wish that I had someone to share it with if it wasn't pointless. Even if I met her I'd be too shit scared to talk to her. At best I would bore her - at worst insult or upset her by giving the impression I was ignoring her. I am such a monumental fuck-up.
I just want to get so drunk that I lapse into a coma and never wake up. Or to be the only victim of a freak earthquake - swallowed whole by the earth. Pathetic loser fuckwit arsehole tit bastard. There are no words that cut deep enough. I keep hoping that if I hate myself enough maybe something will snap and I will change. It's not happening though. Still just as bad as I've ever been. One of the numerous freaks inflicted on the world by a fucked-up society. Is it genetic? Was it my upbringing? My sister had the same upbringing, but she turned out ok. A fault in the centres of social function in my brain. No good for anything but my work - which I enjoy - but is not enough to fill the void I feel in my chest. I just wish I could be myself when I am with others - but apparently that is too much to ask - my mind won't allow it. I have to restrict it to these hours of lonely boredom on the train. Pathetic.
Sunday, 5 December 1999
Wasting so much good material on inner dialogue this weekend - time to get some of it down. I am in a new place at the moment. Usually when I go off on a self hate binge I get all depressed - this time is different - I feel detached somehow. A cold rage at my inadequacy. All mouth and no trousers. I go on and on about how no-one loves me - but can I really be surprised? I am a total loser. I can't get over this fear of doing something wrong. I know on a theoretical level that nothing lasting can happen if I do something wrong - yet the fear is there. My fear of saying or doing something wrong leads me to say and do nothing just to be on the safe side. I am pathetic. Why do I do it? What am I afraid of? Is it rejection? I've been rejected before, and I know it only hurts for a while - nothing permanent. Is it because I don't want to impose? That could explain why I can say things online that I would never say in person - if I put something up here that no-one wants to read, then they just don't read it. If I'm saying something in person then it's only polite to stick it out. People will generally tend to pretend that it isn't an imposition rather than cause hurt feelings. I only want to speak if the other person wants to listen - I find it hard to believe that anyone would though. Æ, en ömurlegt. Apparently that means "Oh, how pathetic", but in a sympathetic way. Cool language - gotta dig any language which can tell you you're pathetic while showing empathy. I wonder how babelfish would translate it? It doesn't translate Icelandic though, so no way to tell... The thought of eternal loneliness still causes me pain, but knowing that it is my fault rather than that of fate is oddly comforting. I am fucking weird. Bigtime yo-yoing of my insides at the moment. Up then down. Topsy-turvey. I wish I was someone else. I guess someone's got to be me though, and I wouldn't want to inflict it on anyone else. I just hope that if there is someone up there watching I am giving him a chance to get a good belly laugh in at my expense. Laugh it up beardy boy - I won't last forever, then you'll have to find some other pathetic sap to pick on. Somebody shoot me - I haven't got the guts to do it myself. Forever lays before me. I guess I take it one step at a time... Curling up in a ball and wanting to die doesn't help though. It's passed some time over the weekend though... Didn't get dressed at all today - only strayed downstairs a couple of times to get food. Most of the day in front of the TV. As usual. Lot's of online time while I've downloaded stuff. No-one around to chat to though. Not that I'm even vaguely comparable to good company at the moment. It helps to rant at someone every now and then though. I don't know if this is helping or not. Usually this helps me get the feelings out - to calm me. Today though it is just as bad as when I brood on this stuff internally. I wish I wasn't so obsessive. I wish I could just put the past behind me and move on. Learn from my mistakes and face tomorrow. The scary thing though is that even with all of the reconstruction I have done in my head over the past two days I still wouldn't do anything different if I had the time again. I don't know how to do things different. It's not in my nature. At least my line will end here and my genes will never be inflicted on future generations. Trying so hard to find the glass half full - but it ever remains half empty. God I wish I could just collapse into bed and sleep - I'm not tired though - spent too much time sleeping this weekend already. The thought of leaving the house fills me with dread. What right do I have to inflict myself on society when I'm so obviously dysfunctional. I'm like some bizarre semi-autistic freak. Someone new comes along and I just freeze up totally - go all inwards and say nothing. Open up eventually - to an extent anyway. But by that time the damage is done. It's not like I always say the wrong thing either - I do sometimes, but when I start I can generally keep on topic, and sometimes even be relevant or funny. But when I freeze I am lost - my mind goes empty and I can't find any thoughts to string together. OK, this is officially not helping. I'm gonna call it a night as far as the writing is concerned. G'Nite.
Saturday, 4 December 1999
Choked utterly. I'm going to be even more one-track than normal this morning. A paraphrased quote hangs in my mind "When I'm with a girl I like I find it hard to say anything cool, or witty... Or at all. I can usually make a few vowel sounds, then I have to go away". It's not even that there were words there that I couldn't get out - my mind just went totally empty. I am going to be alone forever and I deserve it because I am such a pathetic fuckwit.
I am fucking hopeless. There is no hope for me. Totally choked. God. I feel ill when I think back on it. How can I be such a fucking tit? I don't deserve to live - somebody please shoot me. Waiting for five weeks and then barely say a word all night.