The weekend though not exactly lost was spent lazily reading The Slow Train to Milan and drinking vodka and beer. I can't review a book to save my life so I won't. I'll just say I couldn't put it down.
There is someone I love and they did something that made me love them more it was only a small thing but I don't even think they realise I love them, I don't mind for the moment. My head is so full of fucked up-ness telling them would come out wrong and ruin a perfectly good relationship as it stands. I suppose some things are better left unsaid, most of these things are floating around in my head somewhere and as such am quiet to the point of arrogance in some people's eyes. I'm just naturally quiet, someone put a great spin on it: I'm a person person not a people person, one on one's suit me fine I can give my full attention and receive it in kind, everything for me tends to come out "deep" when others can just have a lightness of touch as it were.
I'm back in my mire as you can probably tell nothing changed to put me there it just happened as I knew it would.
I used to want to resort to violence but it was never really me. I keep thinking about the easy way out but know I will never take it instead I just live recklessly destroying organs trying to forget it all.
One positive thing, I have an anchor however unstable it keeps me moored but I fear it's tenuous links crumbling no matter how much I help. The water is too deep to know what the anchor is anchored to.
No comments:
Post a Comment