So I decided a few things in a drugged up haze last night. I have a cold by the way. It comes of the new season starting. And man was that fun. There's the unfurling of the flag because we're awesome but they had Tommy Burns' wife do it following a video montage set to him singing some song that was difficult to hear because the music was tinny over the bad soundsystem. I mean I'm not one to get all sentimental about a man I not only didn't know but never thought about for more than a passing minute when he was alive but it was kinda grim. She was looking rough and the manager was all teary looking and then the game started and it was just so dull. But enough about football.
So I decided a few things, thought some shit out and tried to untangle the ungodly mess I like to call feelings. I came to the conclusion that life is a lot easier without people. I like being alone but I can't be when I meet people because then there's that need and desire to go out and gasp have a good time with them. I can, however, control who I see and all those pesky strangers. Sick and tired of putting up with drunken acquaintances undoing all of my good work warding off desperadoes I told myself I'd save myself some grief (and some francetastic money) by getting home before nightfall. Well let me tell you my week of shunning the night life has brought me more creeps than stepping out the door. So my body acts accordingly. Ok so I can't afford the oh my god leave me alone hair cut so I've become a big mess of unattractiveness instead topped off with the cold. Yay. And I sort of have a date. I don't really do dates to be honest. My very brief and barely worth mentioning relationships since the dire high school era were really just me falling into someone who was there. Dates generally are boring, tiresome affairs in which I feel very much under scrutiny and I act up because of this. Oi, oi, oi I can't stick to my own conclusions when people keep interfering. I'm being my most uncharming as well! I have to fight myself every step of the way as I scream go away, go away, go away.
I read Autofiction a couple of books back. Half way through the main character has an argument with her own vagina for about a page and a half and it was perfect.
I think mostly I'm all bleh because it's a date with a nice boy. I don't know how to deal with nice boys, they like nice things don't they? And nice girls with normal lives and smiles. Maybe I will cancel and find myself a creep to shoot down with harsh words and a sarcastic bat of my eyes. That I know I can do. I think I just accepted because I can't let down a nice guy. I made a bastard cry but I feel awful if I make nice guys do that oh well I thought you'd say no anyway face which I cannot stand to see. Oh it's the burden I must bear being so very wonderful.
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4 comments:
No worries. If a big assed soviet missile heads this way, you can tell it all the neat soviet-esque words you know, thus confusing it as it wonders if it made a wrong turn somewhere. Then, while it's vulnerable, you'll gun it down with a sarcastic bat of your sarcastic lashes. Yay. And then twenty creeps will bear you up the street in their arms for a nice street party, full of nice, smiling people. At which point you'll probably regret shooting said soviet missile out of the sky and be glad and impassive when a second follow-up missile glints in the morning sky, plummeting to earth in the middle of Argyle street.
But then you'll wake up and realise it was all just a crazy yet slightly contrived dream! Twist!
You didn't catch my song reference which means you don't listen to the kinks religiously. For shame.
Somedays though I'd welcome a big ass explosion in that street. It'd make things interesting at least and certainly a better dream than last night's in which I carried a bundle of clothes back and forth losing things on the way and getting annoyed. Thrilling stuff.
Hm? What's that? A lyric-based blog title with and actual relevance to what is going on? On Catherine's blog?
Maybe the world IS going to end...
They are often relevant in that I am singing along when I type. Be glad it is not a video blog. Be very very glad.
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