lack of sleep leads to wandering fingers… no, not down there – get your mind out of the gutter, but rather aimless tapping on my ipod on some inane but addictive game like bejeweled (so lame it aches) and then when i finally succumb to the cruel mistress that is insomnia i drag my limp body to the laptop and begin an odyssey on my keyboard.

sometimes i’m dismayed at where my talons lead me – nothing like a good ol’ snoop on an acrimonious ex of a morning eh?

no didn’t think so… but then why do i do it? for all it does it cauterize my heart further – after tittering at their witticisms and feeling slightly envious that i hadn’t kept things on good terms straight in like a bullet train comes the knee-jerk reaction of sneering at his pathetic existence and the teenage mantra of “i don’t care”. well then smartypants why are you snooping then? take your bloody snout out of the trough!

i can be a bit like that with “friends” too… wavering between nostalgic longing and haughty dismissal – like the popular bitch in teen movies who keeps her underlings in check by ensuring they don’t fraternize with those on her shit list. some heathers shit. that’s exactly it. i feel like winona in heathers… torn allegiances – however not sure if i’m ready to kill off my inner heather c just yet.

it’s so hard to know whether to trust your instincts or not – part of me feels like these people who have offended me  in one way or another, or perhaps not even offended just not managed to make the YES-o-meter in my head go off (you know when you meet someone and you’re just like “YESSSSS – you’re great this works”) do not DESERVE to be my friend.

sidenote: slightly distracted by plies – blow that back out playing in the background – a bit much a 7.29am methinks.

but yes… where was i…. ah yes… friends, boys, who is worthy…yadda yadda yadda. tis tricky. i can’t shake the fact that i am intensely private and guarded person and so access to my private life in any form is considered a privilege – a feeling that has become compounded since my life became public (even in the magazine/myspace days). as jigga said “it ain’t for everybody” and i certainly don’t think i am. however there’s a part of me that feels like i’m perhaps being too draconian and old fashioned in my outlook – applying  values to myself that are dated and irrelevant – bit like that old adage about an overly handled peach getting left on the shelf, there’s a sense that diluting oneself with too many wishy washy people cheapens one somehow.

but is this really a relevant consideration in 2010 where everyone is friends thanks to social networking? the rebel in me says ABSOLUTELY YES – that’s what delineates you and makes you special, whoring yourself virtually or otherwise still feels cheap to me. i can’t help but be drawn to exclusivity – its what has always spurred me forwards in life – not wanting to be like everyone else, wanting to be set apart, to be different, to be special and dare i say it the best. that said it’s nigh on impossible to totally quash that intrinsinally human instinct of wanting to be liked, wanting to be accepted and wanting to belong. i wonder what hardy would make of it all?

metallica makes me want to go on a killing spree, well more like run outside and kick a load of bins over but the FUCK THE WORLD sentiment is still there eh?

re-reading this it’s clear that it all comes down to trust -trusting others and yourself. trusting that you are comfortable in yourself to allow others in and that even if it’s not the best it’ll all be fine. trusting that you’re strong enough to weather confidences being bet… oh bollocks to this. it all comes down to pride.

i shall expound on the P word later… too busy jamming to night crawlers and having an illicit fag in the kitchen.

besides all i really wanted to do pre rant was post this poem:

Don’t Be Literary, Darling
by Sasha Moorsom (25 January 1931 – 22 June 1993)

Don’t be literary, darling, don’t be literary
If you’re James in the morning you’re Hemingway in bed
Don’t talk of yourself in the style of your own obituary-
For who cares what they say of you after you’re dead.

Don’t be always a thought ahead and a move behind
Like a general reconnoitring dangerous ground,
This is a game it’s much better to enter blind
And the one who wins is the one who is caught and bound.

If you can’t be straight then just say nothing instead.
I’ll know what you mean much better than if it was said.


beautiful and very apt.

breakthrough thought alert – pride is good in terms of having a sense of decency and being proper but it shouldn’t get in the way of being kind. being kind of heart and generous of spirit is something i aspire to this decade. as a yardie on the bus once said to me “it’s nice to be important but it’s more important to be nice”. very true.

that’ll do for now. yes…