Points of Note

• It’s been what, a week? A week plus? And I’m only just getting round to surfing the Net from home ever since it was set up.

• I wonder sometimes that I’m not quite there, here nor anywhere. Not quite right. Not quite settled. Displaced, disconnected, disjointed. It’s as if a manic child put a little Frankenstein together minus the green skin, stitches and bolts (though leaving it in would have been way cool)

• I wonder sometimes, what are the things I’m sure of. Life? Work? Relationships?

A: None of the above. So many years and it still hasn’t changed, not one tiny bit.

• You can only seem cool, funny, wise and entertaining to people who don’t know you. And that includes your friends. That is such an awful waste.

• Being thought of as cool, funny, wise and entertaining is such an ego boost. But when you lose that ‘regard’ a certain sense of self worth and esteem is lost. You can struggle to get it back, but you can never dazzle the way you once did. What follows is a phase of uncertainty and sadness.

• You are only as much as what others think you are. (The ‘others’ of whose opinion you care about of course).

• I could be anything. So why am I what I am? Why not reinvent when tired of your own skin? When tired of your own antics?

• I miss being on an even keel. Back then everything was sure. I was sure. The calm endured and rationality ruled. How much smug pride I took in it. How silly I seem now.

• What is it like to know that you have been a waste of time and effort? That you cannot provide returns equal or exceeding what you have received?

• I can never think when I’m around him. I’m just blank. It’s neither a good thing, nor a bad thing, it just is. And he wonders why I write instead of talk. It’s because I think when I’m away, and when that happens, there’s no one to talk to is there? And so I write. He doesn’t approve. But I am adamant. It is either this or nothing (at least until I can actually summon a thought in his presence). So a compromise is in order. It is clear his ‘beef’ with me writing is that he gets to know about things last after my ‘numerous’ blog visitors have been self-informed. Like ‘duh?’ No one reads this, I have the stats to prove it. (I don’t show it to him because I’m terribly embarrassed that no one knows I’m alive!) So I shall send every personal entry to him first so he is aware before I post. I hope it is appropriate and fair enough.

• (Oh man, I must really work on my writing.)