Copycat

I have just read the latest entry of the lovely Lara. I empathise completely, and it kinda got the old cogs whirring in what I laughingly call my head. I don’t know why I laugh at my head, I assume I have dementia. I never REALLY write the meaningful stuff in this diary. I know I write about as often as God, and with about as much skill, but everything I write is pretty vapid- it generally follows the tried and tested:

Hello moose people! I’ve swam my face onto your interwebs to make of a writings and aren’t I entertaining. SQUIRRELS!

Bye

This is not really the work of a great writer. Unless you REALLY rate Jeffrey Archer. In which case I suppose life isn’t for everyone.

I just sometimes wish people saw more beneath my surface veneer of jovial Tom-foolery. I wasn’t on here at all for months- I told you all verybriefly about my birthday and that was it until recently. In that time an awfu lot happened. Only Lianne really has an inkling about anything going on in my head round that time. I even told her I didn’t care about her or anybody else. That was true at the time. I screamed down the phone at the poor, beleaguered Kate about how horrible things were and she really didn’t need to herar that from me of all people. I even cried down the phone to her and other people. I also swallowed two packs of paracetemol and drank a bottle of whisky. I forced myself to be sick shortly afterwards but that was three days in bed. That was the first time I’ve told anybody that. Now several million people have the chance to read it. Even Claire. She had a link to my diary on her tool bar. And if you are reading this Claire, you are still the person I love most in the world AND FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FOR THE LIES, THE CHEATING, THE LACK OF TALKING, THE LACK OF UNDERSTANDING AND YOUR GOD DAMNED SELF-RIGHTEOUS ATTITUDE. GROW THE FUCK UP.

I kinda hope she has read this (or you, if you are reading it). Not spitefully. I’ve just never been able to tell her. I want to hate her but as soon as I see her or hear her voice I can’t do anything but keep loving her. It’s weird. She’s like my cigarettes. I hate them soo much but I just can’t get enough of wanting them because I love them sooo much. (Lianne will be glad to know I have quit as of last Friday).

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset or sad. There maybe a background melancholy but that’s always there. that powers my self derisive humour and my ability to be optimisitc. If you only see shit you at least have to hope it’s hiding a diamond. I love my job, I haven’t yet killed my family and I have a chance at a real life now. I’m away from the fairy tale I wanted to forge in the mountains of Wales. Sometimes I have to remember that I don’t have my shining armour or my white horse, and that the princess is not the one for me. I don’t really need those things. I have my personality, I have my enthusiam and I have my life- that’s worth far more than shiny armour. And princesses? Either inbred or whores. Sometimes both. Give me the scullery wench anyday. They have to work for what they want like we real people.

I am an alarmingly complex simple person. I’m begining to realise quite how different I am from the general person of my age. For a while it worried me. I like toys, swimming in the sea, shiny things, collecting junk that looks interesting, romanticism, world literature, poetry, alcohol, cigarettes, Zooey Deschanel, things that re neon pink, action figures… etc. That’s a weird mix for a 26 year old bloke. It doesn’t worry me now. I’ve held on to the bits of me that I always liked while growing up (there’s an innuendo opportunity for you…). This gives me a far more childish aspect than most and I’ve suppresed that to be what other people expected of me. No more my friends. The world is a playground- that’s one fact that the kids know and adults seem to forget. I refuse to forget it. the day I stop playing on the swings and slides that life gives me is the day that I have to admit I have no soul anymore. Don’t let that happen to me.

Anyway, this entry rambled more than Rambling Syd Rumpo (do look it up on youtube- I recommend The Black Grunger of Hounslow). I’m hoping to write more often. Get to know me- and if you’re bored visit me over summer. Essex is lovely and so am I.

Toodleoo!

Me
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