Friday, June 13, 2003
Fatigue.
Should be the order of the day, I've only had three hours of sleep last night, and it was hard enough to fall asleep. But I feel bright eyed and bushy tailed. Which is a bit of a bummer when you realise you don't have to go into work early today.
Another multitude of thoughts this morning. The first being, that I was lucky to have met Her. How many people would've? I wish I still knew her, but once in a lifetime, is still once in a lifetime up on none in a life time. Also, obvious as this sounds, we can do whatever we want to do. We may not be able to do certain things well, if we choose poorly, but there isnt really a mould for individuals. For instance, I could dye my hair green, wear lederhosen, drink and swear copiously and copulate furiously with random studded females. But I would find that incredibly distasteful, and therefore I don't. I can, however, slash wildly at people with blunted instruments, dance furiously, and drink moderately, because I enjoy it. (YOU were wrong, once upon a time, to label me a show-off alcoholic; unlike You, it doesn't put me to sleep except in large excess, in fact it does so little to me it's economically unviable to invest in a non-benefit activity such as alcohol excess. I do drink occasionally, since I've discovered certain alcoholic drinks actually taste quite interesting. Drinks consumed this lifetime? several hundred. Occasions drunk and fell over? none. Occasions thrown up? none.) And so I shall.
I miss the old days, when love wandered your way and shot you in the back whilst teasing you with her eyes. I miss the old days when it seemed like the world was mercenary, and loveless, and warped - outside of your little existence, before the dirt started seeping in through the shell we wear as personal space. Life never seemed uncomplicated to me; since childhood I acknowledged that the world was fu*ked up, nations waged wars for land, people died senselessly, and there was no such thing as romantic love aka Shakespear, love at first sight? God Forbid.
I miss the old days, when I was proved wrong on at least one count.
From here on out, kiddo, it's going to be a boringly predictable ride. Even dating will be boring, that measured smile to catch that measured response, that well-timed laugh, that almost spontaneous response : is she actually, my word, laughing with me? Or is she laughing at me? Or is she just making laughing noises so that we'll get along better? even friendship will be about individual gain, about slow and careful victories.
Thank God, at least, I still have a friend near me, who isn't measuring her responses, for whom laughter still seems to come spontaneously, who induces spontaneous laughter from her listeners.
Footnote, I never really stopped missing You, but I guess that's okay. I'll just lindsey hop and charlton step it into the back of my mind, and hope furtively that one day we'll meet again.
Should be the order of the day, I've only had three hours of sleep last night, and it was hard enough to fall asleep. But I feel bright eyed and bushy tailed. Which is a bit of a bummer when you realise you don't have to go into work early today.
Another multitude of thoughts this morning. The first being, that I was lucky to have met Her. How many people would've? I wish I still knew her, but once in a lifetime, is still once in a lifetime up on none in a life time. Also, obvious as this sounds, we can do whatever we want to do. We may not be able to do certain things well, if we choose poorly, but there isnt really a mould for individuals. For instance, I could dye my hair green, wear lederhosen, drink and swear copiously and copulate furiously with random studded females. But I would find that incredibly distasteful, and therefore I don't. I can, however, slash wildly at people with blunted instruments, dance furiously, and drink moderately, because I enjoy it. (YOU were wrong, once upon a time, to label me a show-off alcoholic; unlike You, it doesn't put me to sleep except in large excess, in fact it does so little to me it's economically unviable to invest in a non-benefit activity such as alcohol excess. I do drink occasionally, since I've discovered certain alcoholic drinks actually taste quite interesting. Drinks consumed this lifetime? several hundred. Occasions drunk and fell over? none. Occasions thrown up? none.) And so I shall.
I miss the old days, when love wandered your way and shot you in the back whilst teasing you with her eyes. I miss the old days when it seemed like the world was mercenary, and loveless, and warped - outside of your little existence, before the dirt started seeping in through the shell we wear as personal space. Life never seemed uncomplicated to me; since childhood I acknowledged that the world was fu*ked up, nations waged wars for land, people died senselessly, and there was no such thing as romantic love aka Shakespear, love at first sight? God Forbid.
I miss the old days, when I was proved wrong on at least one count.
From here on out, kiddo, it's going to be a boringly predictable ride. Even dating will be boring, that measured smile to catch that measured response, that well-timed laugh, that almost spontaneous response : is she actually, my word, laughing with me? Or is she laughing at me? Or is she just making laughing noises so that we'll get along better? even friendship will be about individual gain, about slow and careful victories.
Thank God, at least, I still have a friend near me, who isn't measuring her responses, for whom laughter still seems to come spontaneously, who induces spontaneous laughter from her listeners.
Footnote, I never really stopped missing You, but I guess that's okay. I'll just lindsey hop and charlton step it into the back of my mind, and hope furtively that one day we'll meet again.
