Been a long time since I posted anything.  Things are getting a bit sketchy again, so I figured I should try and write some of this shit down again.  I've moved back to Glasgow now, I think I spoke before in previous posts about "everything being ok" if I moved back.  But really, it's not all that I thought it would be.  Of course it's great being close to the family, but really... I don't want to live here.  I've been away too long, and everything is different.  I dunno what I expected, but I just feel really out of the loop back here.  Of course all my mates are here, but they've all moved on too, they all have their own lives, families, kids, wives, jobs... all that bollocks.

I guess it's just gonna take time.  I'm just trying to build my own wee life up here.  Managed to get myself a gig in a bar in Glasgow, and another in Ayr.  So we'll see how that works out.  Staying with the parents until I sort out a place.  That's something else that's a bit depressing, 27 years old and I'm back living with my mama and old man.  Whether it's "ok" to do that or not, it's just not how I saw my life being.

So, recently the razor blades in the supermarket have started to become a little more appealing each time I go in.  I did a few bits of silly business with them in the weeks leading up to me leaving England.  But nothing since I've been back.  So, I decided I'd book myself an appointment with a new loony doctor.  She's called G, and I'm going to see her tomorrow night.  When I phoned her, she asked if I had any questions, all I could think of was "You don't think you're gonna cure me with crystals and magic beans do you? Cos if you do we should just forget the whole gig"  She said, with a wee chuckle that she didn't think like that.  A result so far.

Fuckit.. I'll go along and see what she has to say to the whole business.  It's not gonna do any harm is it?  I'm a wee bit nervous about the whole thing though, starting from the beginning again.  Explaining to yet another stranger that I'm a fuckin crackpot loony.  And then waiting nervously, like a frightened animal, wondering what her response is going to be.  Fuckit... we'll see.

Confidence is at a proper low right now too, I just can't see myself being anything other than this... fraud.  I keep waiting to be found out at work.  And no matter how many people tell me my songs and music are good, I don't accept it.  I listen to it and think that it's ok, and I love when other people say it's good.  But I just don't believe them.  It's never going to be good enough.  

I miss people from down the road too.  I didn't much like living there, but the people I met were proper friends to me.  I feel like I just don't fit in here right now.  I try and keep in touch, texts, emails, facebook.  All that business, but it all seems like an effort for them.  I feel like if I contact them I'm just annoying or bothering them.  I don't really know if that's the case, or if maybe it's just because that's what I thought would happen when I left.  People would just forget about me.  Forget I was ever there.  The wheels keep on turning, and my insignificance is clear.

I had to go though.  Of course mostly for my old man, but also there's no way I could have hung around and saw that fuckin girl waltz around with that cunt I thought was my mate.  It's pathetic I know, so I don't need to hear that.  But so fuck... It's how I feel.  I know there's no way she's as amazing in real life as she is in my head, or my song.  And I understand that it's probably the whole rejection thing, or wanting something you can't have that is more than my "love" for her.  But once more... so fuck... if it's how I feel, then who gives a fuck the logic behind it?  

Sleeping is a bit of a traumatic experience right now too.  Fuck knows what that is about, I lie in bed and when I'm falling asleep it feels like I stop breathing and wake up in some kind of panic.  Lately I've just been thinking, fuck this... just fuckin let me die, if that's what this is all about just fuckin let it happen.  I don't give a fuck, maybe it's the easy, cowards way of thinking.  But so fuck, I just don't want to deal with everything that's going on.  

Anyway... fuckit... another dramatic, self indulgent bag of wank.