Long time, no see
These days I can't tell whether I am suffering from burnout, apathy or am just sucumbing to complete inertia.
Typing is inducing muscle strain in my fingers and my eyes, they do burn like chunks of red hot coal in my head as I stare down the long nights and short, grey days.
For the small number who were curious - I have indeed been updating this journal, just doing so behind tightly drawn curtains, which allows me to be as base, petulant, pathetic, stroppy, foul tounged and skull numbingly boring as I like. What freedom! But that did begin to become tiresome as there is only so much of oneself that one can stomach without feeling the urge to throw up. Narcissim eventually equals nausea in some form or other...
Lets see, what have I been doing of late? Why, being a good student, living on the breadline, admiring the green grass on the other side, listening to tales of my peers getting married, spawning children, becoming shackled with mortgages and generally hopping on that long slow slide into middle age. And yet, still, I have little money, no sense of where home is, let alone owning one of my own and am becoming ever more lost in the gap between being feckless or just simply hopeless and rootless.
In a fit of restlessness, I decided to cut off all my hair again. I never understand that need that most women have to hide behind flowing tresses, or the fact that men think women should have luscious long locks to look pretty, hot, sexy whatever. Now I look like a boy - or like some kind of pixie, elf creature as my man Barry likes to tell me. He's gay - he loves elfiness. It leaves me aghast. Elves live in trees and wear leather jerkins and possibly don't wash very much. Hmmm.
Fuck, is it any wonder I gave up on public journal entries when they come out as garbled and nonsensical as this? I think I shall go off and do some cooking - nothing like a bit of kitchen heat and vino tinto to soothe a furrowed brow.
I just remembered that today is valentine's day. Arse to that. I hope it is gooey for the rest of you.
Typing is inducing muscle strain in my fingers and my eyes, they do burn like chunks of red hot coal in my head as I stare down the long nights and short, grey days.
For the small number who were curious - I have indeed been updating this journal, just doing so behind tightly drawn curtains, which allows me to be as base, petulant, pathetic, stroppy, foul tounged and skull numbingly boring as I like. What freedom! But that did begin to become tiresome as there is only so much of oneself that one can stomach without feeling the urge to throw up. Narcissim eventually equals nausea in some form or other...
Lets see, what have I been doing of late? Why, being a good student, living on the breadline, admiring the green grass on the other side, listening to tales of my peers getting married, spawning children, becoming shackled with mortgages and generally hopping on that long slow slide into middle age. And yet, still, I have little money, no sense of where home is, let alone owning one of my own and am becoming ever more lost in the gap between being feckless or just simply hopeless and rootless.
In a fit of restlessness, I decided to cut off all my hair again. I never understand that need that most women have to hide behind flowing tresses, or the fact that men think women should have luscious long locks to look pretty, hot, sexy whatever. Now I look like a boy - or like some kind of pixie, elf creature as my man Barry likes to tell me. He's gay - he loves elfiness. It leaves me aghast. Elves live in trees and wear leather jerkins and possibly don't wash very much. Hmmm.
Fuck, is it any wonder I gave up on public journal entries when they come out as garbled and nonsensical as this? I think I shall go off and do some cooking - nothing like a bit of kitchen heat and vino tinto to soothe a furrowed brow.
I just remembered that today is valentine's day. Arse to that. I hope it is gooey for the rest of you.