I haven't posted an entry for ages. I guess things have been good. Been playing in a lot of open mic nights around here, made some new friends on that kinda scene. It's all been pretty good.
This leg is still fuckin' killing me, I'm either "living in pain, or mashed out my face" to quote myself from one of my songs.
I guess I feel like writing because I feel like cutting myself. She got married on Saturday. The Ex. I knew it was coming, but still... What a cunt. Dunno why it still affects me so much. Why the fuck I let it get to me I don't know... I guess it's because I'm on my own more than anything. And on Saturday I was out with a girl that, either just wasn't into me. Or has pretty major relationship issues. I think from our conversations that it's the latter... or at least I'd like to hope so. Either way, SHE has moved on, got married... and what the fuck have I done except become a fat cunt with a dodgy leg that can't even take a burd out for the day and sit down for half an hour.
I just came back from London that day and got fuckin hammered, conscious decision... Just decided that was what I was gonna do. And I accomplished it pretty successfully.
FUCK... I want to break something....
I'm fuckin sore... physically sore from this fuckin leg... But I want to hurt myself because I feel like a fuckin' fat useless fucker. I've been singing this song "Substitute" recently... "...Music is my Substitute for love..." and "...I've had many different girls inside my bed, but only one or 2 inside my head... these days I cuddle up to my guitar instead.." But when does that just become wrong? When I'm 70 years old and thinking about dying, will my guitar be there to look after me? To tell me I'm a daft old cunt? To give me a kiss when I'm lying, dying on some fuckin horrible hospital bed. Will it fuck... it'll sit there laughing at the fact that I can't play it anymore... and I'll be lying old, and fucked and bitter... fuckit...
This is part two of this entry, written a day later. I'm not so worked up about things today, but I did cut myself this morning. It was 3 pathetic wee scrapes in all honesty. More to do with the fact that I don't have any decent paraphernalia for such a task than anything I reckon. Because I really, really tried to do it.
I know I'm an arse for doing it, but so fuck.
Going to play at the open mic tonight, so looking forward to that. Not sure what I'm going to play, but I have a few hours to practice after work so I'll decide then.
Fuckit... can't be arsed writing anything else...
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