Sunday, 24 January 2010

Making My Way Home.

So I always walk that way home, because that's how I get home, it's where I live, if I don't walk that way I don't get home, at least not as soon. So, therefore, I walk that way home.

But anyways, I met this girl and we met up a few times and we had a laugh and I got to liking her and then I text her, and she didn't text back. And I guess, y'know, she doesn't like me, or maybe she's been busy for five days whilst the dog's been eating her phone whilst she's run out of phone-credit whilst she's not-even-looked-at-the-phone-honestly; but regardless, her lack of interest isn't the problem.

The problem is her house. It sits right there, on my way home. The way I have to go, because that is where I live. In fact, when I cross the road - I literally walk almost straight ahead into the window of her house where she lives.

So the problem is this. I walk that way home because that is the way I go, to get home, it's where I live and it's how I get there. But the girl is ignoring me, yet--- I keep walking past her house, in fact, because of the way the road works, I almost walk straight up to her door.

Now, do I ask her to move to a new address? Or am I obliged to find a new route home? Whilst many of you realists will say "it's on your way home so just go home and don't make a big deal of it," this doesn't really sit well. Because, when she comes out of her house, I may be there trundling by---- "Oh, hey," she'll say, "What are you doing here?".

"I'm just walking home," would be my response.
"I saw you earlier on today. And yesterday.."
"Yeah, this is the way I go, on my way home. It's on my way to my house, that's how I get there."
"Right, yeah. Okay. Sorry I didn't text you back, my phone--- it, I don't know, sometimes it just deletes number's of guys and I don't know why."

The moral of this story is, no matter what path you take in life - there will always be rejection waiting at the front door.

Thursday, 21 January 2010

Let's Go Shut It Down

You hover in front of my mind - you're an invisible wall between me and her. She is right there, but I'm hiding in here somewhere, and there YOU are, just in the way-- and you're just shutting me down. It's like I'm on Apollo 13 and you're making the hazard lights flash one by one. BANG, your sense of humor is GONE, SMASH - I've ripped through your interesting thoughts, BOOOOM! There's your confidence gone floating away. SMACK, I've just thumped you in the face and taken away whatever meager good looks you had to begin with and now you are left with looking NOT VERY GOOD.

I will shut you down and FUCK you up any time you get near to feeling anything. That thing you feel, DON'T BELIEVE IT, that thing you see, YOU'RE DREAMING. WHAT IS IT WITH YOU? There's a reason I've had you feeling NUMB for like the last zillion years, it's because that's where you belong, in the big-NUMB, because when you feel-- you become like a fucking kid again. Vulnerable as anything. FEEL NOTHING, FEEL NOTHING, FEEL NOTHING.

Saturday, 16 January 2010

something? please.

and you feel this thing and this spark and you see the look and it feels real and it reminds you of last time you felt something and you're feeling it again and you see her talking to some guy and you feel jealous but it's great because you actually feel jealous and you wonder what that means and you wonder what her looks mean and you wonder if she's just being friendly or if maybe she really likes you and you realize you're just thirteen years old again and nothing has really changed and you wonder and worry that when you're eighty will you still be this retarded but the girl is so beautiful and this little spark is so nice it's so real it's so innocent and you don't know and you definitely don't know and you know that you don't know and you look for a sign and you read in to what she says and you think about what she never says and you think and you stumble and you hope and when she looks at you wow you feel good you really do and you just hope and wonder and imagine what it would be like if this was actually something.

and it is.