whatthefuckamidoing.docx
Hello, Word Document.
It's 5am in Kyoto, and i'm bored, and maybe slightly drunk, I just don't know. Jury's out.
But anyway. I don't know what i'm doing.
Fischer texted me earlier. Hmmm.... Robert. I actually agreed to go see him in LA when i'm done here. He invited me to stay with him at his flat. This is possibly a really bad-good idea, and i'm very much looking forward to it.
He saw my projection of Arthur, and he knows about my... problem.
LOOK. IT'S NOT A PROBLEM, OK. IT'S JUST A THING. A THING I'VE HAD WRONG WITH ME FOR A LONG TIME. I deal with it.
And I don't need to write in a bloody Word Document on my laptop "AM SORTOF IN LOVE WITH ARTHUR" because you're a bloody piece of technology, not a shrink, and it's more complicated than all that.
I don't even know what the whole 'Being In Love' notion even means. Whatever.
I like everything about him, even when he's a dick. I'm completely obsessed with him and helping him and just... working with him.
I admire him a lot. A LOT.
And sometimes I feel like my whole world fucking hinges on him and I feel completely ridiculous.
I AM REALLY FUCKING RIDICULOUS. AND I SHOULDN'T DRINK SO MUCH. IT MAKES ME INTO A STUPID ARSEHOLE WHO TYPES UP HIS 'FEELINGS' AT 5AM.
And then there's Robert.
Who isn't actually about to kill us all or have us arrested.
And he's sweet, and funny, and sexy as hell, and has a really great arse. And I shagged him in New York. And I definitely will again in LA. And... whenever else he wants me to, I get the feeling.
It's easy with him, everything feels easy. It was actually bloody weird how relaxed and stressfree and fun it was between us.
Sometimes I think about just how fucked up that makes me... fucking a former Mark. Somehow befriending him. Whilst in love with a complete dick who might respect me but probably quite hates me.
If my dear old Mum was alive right now, she'd tell me to sort myself the hell out.
Might raid the minibar again. I hate 5am.
It's 5am in Kyoto, and i'm bored, and maybe slightly drunk, I just don't know. Jury's out.
But anyway. I don't know what i'm doing.
Fischer texted me earlier. Hmmm.... Robert. I actually agreed to go see him in LA when i'm done here. He invited me to stay with him at his flat. This is possibly a really bad-good idea, and i'm very much looking forward to it.
He saw my projection of Arthur, and he knows about my... problem.
LOOK. IT'S NOT A PROBLEM, OK. IT'S JUST A THING. A THING I'VE HAD WRONG WITH ME FOR A LONG TIME. I deal with it.
And I don't need to write in a bloody Word Document on my laptop "AM SORTOF IN LOVE WITH ARTHUR" because you're a bloody piece of technology, not a shrink, and it's more complicated than all that.
I don't even know what the whole 'Being In Love' notion even means. Whatever.
I like everything about him, even when he's a dick. I'm completely obsessed with him and helping him and just... working with him.
I admire him a lot. A LOT.
And sometimes I feel like my whole world fucking hinges on him and I feel completely ridiculous.
I AM REALLY FUCKING RIDICULOUS. AND I SHOULDN'T DRINK SO MUCH. IT MAKES ME INTO A STUPID ARSEHOLE WHO TYPES UP HIS 'FEELINGS' AT 5AM.
And then there's Robert.
Who isn't actually about to kill us all or have us arrested.
And he's sweet, and funny, and sexy as hell, and has a really great arse. And I shagged him in New York. And I definitely will again in LA. And... whenever else he wants me to, I get the feeling.
It's easy with him, everything feels easy. It was actually bloody weird how relaxed and stressfree and fun it was between us.
Sometimes I think about just how fucked up that makes me... fucking a former Mark. Somehow befriending him. Whilst in love with a complete dick who might respect me but probably quite hates me.
If my dear old Mum was alive right now, she'd tell me to sort myself the hell out.
Might raid the minibar again. I hate 5am.