It’s funny that after just one day alone my life feels devoid of purpose, like I am aimless, nothing to do nowhere to go no-one to see. Funny, yeah, I’m laughing real hard as I sit here for the second day of lonely self-loathing. Where did it all go wrong? Last night I got in pissed again and wrote that what you see below. I needed somewhere to direct my anger and frustration. I needed an out. I get that through writing. It helps to put thing down. I am better able to understand my thoughts if I see them in black and white. The only way that I would have sent that letter would have been if I’d walked to the 24 hour service station at 4 am to buy a postage stamp and bunged it in a post box. Reading it now I know I will never send it. I’ll just leave it on these pages to remind me of how I was feeling at this time in my life. Maybe, and I’m not certain yet, but maybe I just needed a scapegoat. Perhaps he is not to blame for my failings as a person, perhaps I’m just shite. But it’s very, very difficult for a man to admit he is inadequate in any way and to accept there are failings. Pride is a great deceiver. Guilt is an interesting emotion. I’m currently a mixed bag of emotions. I feel them boiling in my skull and threatening to spill out of me and into the lives of people around me. I can’t let that happen. I have spent more than a decade putting emotional controls in place and this will not become a break down of those controls. Sure I have moments of madness, I have moments of screaming-into-the-dark-lunacy, but I do not let it boil to the surface often. Maybe if I did I would not be here now or I would be here but Jenny would be here too. I believed that after meeting my Father and facing the demons from my past I would be emotionally free and able to give my heart to someone. I was a little premature in that belief it would seem. Do I love her? I don’t know. Did I ever? I think I wanted to love her and I wanted to believe that I did love her but I’m not sure if I did. I’m not sure of anything anymore.
I’ve been listening to the album ‘People’ by Hothouse Flowers. I had been meaning to download it for some time, but it was one of those things on the to-do list that always got put back due to other more pressing needs. But yesterday I took the time to piece together the entire album through Limewire. Funny really (yes, I’m full of funnies today!!) because the first four tracks are (oh, the irony):
I’m Sorry
Don’t Go
Forgiven
It’ll Be Easier in the Morning
It’s almost as if my choice of music is tormenting me. Like I have a masochistic desire to feel the pain of a break up through the music I listen to. Or maybe I’m just being melodramatic. I don’t know, but I’ve lost my train of thought now so I’ll close.
