It is difficult to cease loving if you're unsure you ever really started
I think I am losing touch with reality. At this moment in time, I am nursing five broken hearts. People are not going to resume their 'rightful' courses and even though the New Year is just around the corner which means that logically it should be the time and place to make a set of resolutions, we're all merely adrift in this horrible sea of melancholia. Everything is virtually impossible when all the inroads you make in your life results in doors being slammed in your face.
I'm so uninterested in anything these days. I don't feel inspired or compelled to accomplish anything in my life. Is this what love is supposed to feel like? A broken heart breeds so much despondency. I don't know where I can go from here. I was talking to Em last night on the phone for an hour and it occurred to us that if we were to form a broken hearts club, we'd instantaneously have 5 names to add to the list. Em, Rach, George, Steve...I am so sorry. I have nothing to offer you but sheer empathy.
I was supposed to make a start on revision [hate, hate, HAAAATE!] this afternoon in the town library whilst Em met up with her Steve and I awaited [to no avail] for some form of response from Sam to at least let me know he was still alive but me and Em ended up at the pub. It is true we are a generation of alcoholics, sadly. Regarding our quest to join a nation of broadband users I am about to fix this mojo to our modem at last. Oh, if anyone wants to buy me a Pink Floyd pillowcase , (birthday, hint hint) you are very welcome to.
Yes. I have a plan and every night before I drift off into the subconscious it plays out perfectly in my head. But you don't get details this time. It's my only stability and if fantasy is the only way for me to retain an ounce of security then I am never letting go. Like I said, I am losing touch with reality. I think I was born a dreamer. It can be purely be my undoing but at the moment, it's what I'm living for. Speaking of dreams, I had a very sordid experience with Robbie last night.
I'm so uninterested in anything these days. I don't feel inspired or compelled to accomplish anything in my life. Is this what love is supposed to feel like? A broken heart breeds so much despondency. I don't know where I can go from here. I was talking to Em last night on the phone for an hour and it occurred to us that if we were to form a broken hearts club, we'd instantaneously have 5 names to add to the list. Em, Rach, George, Steve...I am so sorry. I have nothing to offer you but sheer empathy.
I was supposed to make a start on revision [hate, hate, HAAAATE!] this afternoon in the town library whilst Em met up with her Steve and I awaited [to no avail] for some form of response from Sam to at least let me know he was still alive but me and Em ended up at the pub. It is true we are a generation of alcoholics, sadly. Regarding our quest to join a nation of broadband users I am about to fix this mojo to our modem at last. Oh, if anyone wants to buy me a Pink Floyd pillowcase , (birthday, hint hint) you are very welcome to.
Yes. I have a plan and every night before I drift off into the subconscious it plays out perfectly in my head. But you don't get details this time. It's my only stability and if fantasy is the only way for me to retain an ounce of security then I am never letting go. Like I said, I am losing touch with reality. I think I was born a dreamer. It can be purely be my undoing but at the moment, it's what I'm living for. Speaking of dreams, I had a very sordid experience with Robbie last night.