Things in My Head

I should not drink any more whiskey.
I pick wrong people.
Wrong people love me and love ruining me.
Yes, I hate them.
And, hell yeah, I hate M. Monroe. (NOT Marilyn.)
M. Monroe deserves to die.
My car runs weird now after P3 servicing.
I can foresee me getting arrested at Dover.
Should I still go to Dover?
This chianti is fab, and it's only 2.99 a bottle.
I want to be HP's groupie.
I honestly don't remember txting Mur last night.
I fucking miss my neighbour and that's wrong in so many levels.
My thighs are getting out of control.
What a waste to do this all for no action, I am Jack's wasted Hedwig.
Well, at least I look rather good for a change.
Moisturize, moisturize, as Keith and Ms. Vida Boheme said.
I need to go out, someone take me out, am begging.
I am sorry for Cameron's loss, hate when little people die.
Can't wait for the Great British Duck Race on 6/9/2009, I will make donations to kids in suffering.
I want to sleep covered in bath ducks.
Someone get me a roll of film and a rangefinder.
No regret, ever, not even you.
Enjoy the life, you only live twice.

Every Week

I love doing surveys. I love the fact that I am lucky enough to be picked now and then to do product tests, where I go and eat stuff and tick how much I liked / disliked it, in the scale of 1 - 10, then finally march out the room with other testers so we get paid.

 

A few months ago, I saw this news informing that some scientist gathered up enough evidences that people who watch romantic comedies tend to have unrealistic idealism towards relationships. Whether it is true or not was irrelevant to myself as my idealism towards romance is so twisted it couldn't possibly come from any romantic "comedy". But what caught my attention was that the same research team is running additional surveys and anyone is welcome to take part, and by taking part you may win some big cash.

 

So I went to the website and signed up. It asks how many hours each week you spent watching TV, in which category, then asks how many hours you have spent watching films in different genres. Then it asks how satisfied you are with your life and yourself, then finally asks if you are in a relationship and how satisfied you are in it.

 

I have been answering these same questions for weeks now;

Sometimes I think I am useless, scale 1 - 10

Sometimes my life seems empty, scale 1 - 10

If I can do over my life I would, scale 1 - 10

 

Every week I tell that I am useless, every week I tell I am not psyched to be living, every week my life is hollow but full of bitterness. Every week these questions tell me that I should get up and turn around, do something. Every week I am re-grazing, in my thoughts on my choice of career, partners and the way I sculpt myself to be the person I want to be, and the answers to them all is that steps I am taking are way too small.

 

My life is about having no expectation, so I don't get disappointed. This approach to life is making me lazy. I stay low, sit tight and tend not to move. Apparently, it's time I need to roll out and jump to something. I need to do this, not by someone kicking me off to roll off. I need to be animate and start rolling, every week. 

Like I Always Said

The new year means the new beginning. My winter sucked, not being helped by this bloody weather - it is very much like living in an ice cube, it's been, without any heat on till 1/1/2009 - and the year was starting out as usual; without me knowing it.

 

Things have been not too bad, actually. The whole thing was touch and go, but all in all balanced out while positive was negated by some incidents and negatives were lightened up by some stuff. The opening of the year was just a chaotic unknown to me.

 

I now have heard from my herald about this year, and it looks somewhat exciting AND rocky.

 

So far I've already learned and was assured that everyone I touch turns into a frog, or caca, as Miss Rodriguez says. There is no good person in this world as far as myself is involved.

 

And this year is going to be tough, work-wise. Not a nice thing to pre-know.

 

Today I've found out that the last batch I did at the end of last year resulted badly, because I've screwed up. Not only I did something that shouldn't have done, I have tactfully aggravated the wrong person; i.e. my bitch boss. I am Jack's deflated party balloon.

 

I think I am going to become some cat that drags in rotten things, just to stink up the life. Might as well enjoy what discovery the feline me would make next. Why don't I just enjoy this deteriorating ride of 2009. Stay tuned, as Mr. Firestein always says.

This is How it is

This year has been a very interesting one. I am writing this now because the situation has been touch and go, and I really wouldn't want the whole thing to turn worse in next 10 days or so. I want the situation to come to a halt, if not becoming better.

Things are far from peaceful. It is like this; non-stop struggle, tear, blood and sweat for days on end, and then a hint of ecstatic joy. Not a good mixture on an impending schizo. Very confusing time. It is like getting showered with bad news of credit crunch, then realize that is only bringing down your mortgage payment.

 

This year has been all about self-hating, as a result of betrayal. I feel rotten, and so small, and all of my attempts to ease the problem, for myself and for others around me, have backfired and hurt me seriously, hence made myself unbearable to the others. 2 people came into my life, took insurmountable amount of things away from me this year. One took so much money, trust, and love from me, and the other took my time, care and what was left of my dignity. Now I feel like a new person. I have now lost all that I had on me like layers of padding, being left barebuttnaked.

 

I now am so afraid that if I go anywhere near any other human being, it will have some distinctive affect on all parties involved, in a hideously negative way. Thus, naturally, am retreating. I feel that something has ended.

 

Now, that sounds all negative and dull, but it had to be done because this is the only thing I can do to get to you, and you know who you are. You deserve nothing but a criminal charge against you. I know you don't give a damn, and that's fine. I know it will all get back to bite your arse. I am only doing this so you won't be able to glamorise the whole affair for your enjoyment.

 

There are so many things happening, even though I am not moving a nudge. There is a sense of change. If an era ended, I guess another is coming this way, and that's probably why I am hoping for a pause, because the new beginning is a scary thing. I am beginning, somewhat unwillingly, to set off to something which looking to me right now like a vast white ocean, essentially on my own. Cheers.

Let Us Eat Pie

There was a rugby match on. They are going to get trashed and customers were not happy. It's too noisy and I had no place to park with my sarny. Paul's watching the game and I couldn't be bothered to bug him while fat boys yell at lumpy players in white and red uniforms.

 

Shall I just chug a lager in the corner while munching prawn mayo on brown? I stood in the bar and frowned. Was it a 1 wonderful idea to do that before driving back to home? I was sure Paul would find that a liability. Um, not that I cared about that.

 

It was a funny day. More than half of people ordered steak and ale pies, one of which gave me a French lesson, then so many people had Banoffee pies for the afters. It was not that cold, that day, but you could smell the winter in the air. I bet all of these people got up in the morning and felt like brisk walks in woods, before coming to us for hearty pies and tooth melting banana pies. If it wasn't for the free sarny, I would have done the same.

 

No, actually, no, I still would. Why don't I just stuff my face with cream and banana, to sooth weeping soul of mine. I turned to my boss and said,

"Hey, boss, would you give me a giant cup of tea, if I buy your famous Banoffee pie?"

He replied,

"Hey, why don't you work for a bit longer and I will buy you the pie. In that way I get to watch Chelsea play"

 

Deal. Done and sealed. I mentally shook his hand and stayed for 30 min.

 

Rugby viewers were getting quiet. Well, RSA was good. Even I knew that. And boss was long gone. I guess Chelsea was kicking some arse to lose Liverpool for good.

 

In the end I sat down with a piece of pie filled with browned condensed milk and cream with some bananas, and was weeping from the eyes with joy. The pie was SO sweet and nevertheless mind numbing, my soul was now laughing.

 

Paul snuck up on me and stood by me, looking smilingly at my ecstatic face, and muttered something about the match. Then said,

"So, you had a row with your mother?"

"Ohh, yessir, I hate my mum."

"Oh no, you don't."

 

Thus it went. Anyway. It was nice of him. It was a lovely afternoon over all. What a difference a pie and a pal make. Thank ya all.

No!!

I can't go on, I had enough, this shouldn't be the way, I just want to forget everything, just want to go away, why am I ill and why should I be penalized for it, am having a worst month of this year and it's tough and who fuck cares its already tomorrow, fuck my boss, fuck the economy, fuck the lottery and fuck my flatmate, fuck my ex, fuck. Just fuck off.

Yes!!

"Don't you ever get tired of bitching about that work you hate so much? Why don't you just quit your job and get a new one if you are that unhappy?"

Well, my mum did not raise me to be a quitter, but did raise me a moaner. I can complain but I won't quit. Quitters are worse than losers. I can continue to be a loser but will not quit being a loser.

But, hey, maybe, just maybe, that IS the answer. Maybe I should just quit. I HATE my job. I hate my life while working that job. I HATE my bosses and everyone around them, and I HATE the fact they all hate me and that I am making them do that.

YES! I am moving. I am going to the states. Sorry, US, you have to take this scum of puss of inhumanbeing because UK had enough of it. YES, I am coming, it's decided!!