"Take me in your arms again, lead me in my dreams again"

I need a holiday. Sunday lates are an absolute nightmare. Why are people with the wrong tickets so argumentative on Sunday evenings?

Adventure in a month or so. It'll either be really fun or just a bit shit.

"You're going nowhere and you're going there fast"

I'm bored. Not short term boredom that's fixed by having a walk up the road to give a letter to the letting agents. And boredom probably isn't even the right word. I'm just sick of getting up, doing an eight hour shift then coming home, watching some telly then going to bed. Work in itself is, for the most part, good (apart from when I'm getting threatened by people then having to give statements to the British Transport Police), but the whole routine nature of my life is getting to me. I can rarely even go to gigs because I'm either working until 2130/2200 or I'm in work at 0500/0530 the next morning.

I had a great spur of the moment trip to Birmingham the other week, but opportunities (and people who want to do last minute visits who live on the West Coast Main Line) are few and far between.

And now I can't sleep. I'm doing two days of 0530 starts (plus a whole week next week, I think) and getting to sleep is impossible. I eventually get into it, but I always start with a couple of nights of three hours sleep, which makes me an utter bastard to deal with. Even moreso than normal.

So I'm left writing self pitying blog posts whilst listening to Yes records.

"A great many things keep happening..."

"A great many things keep happening. Some of them good, some of them bad."

That seems like a fairly apt quote. I'm having thoughts about the future. By the future I actually mean from the end of September. Given that everything that brought me towards London has gone, will be leaving or was never there in the first place, there's little point in staying there for another year. Sure, it's an exciting place, but if two thirds of my income is going on rent then I can hardly take advantage of much of it. So I move elsewhere? But there are no jobs. So I go back to uni? Perhaps. It's a possibility, certainly. Perhaps I just try applying for lots of jobs in places that seem fun in May time and see what happens. If nothing comes up then I move home and keep trying.

Lots of possibilities. No real direction. Just like before really. Things never change.

Review of the year!1!!!!!oneeleven!!!1eleventy!!11!!

Can I just have most of it back again please? Or at least the last six months of it? Thanks.

"You might claim to have the facts, but the truth is true no mattter how you act"

I've just been offered a job. Which is nice. No doubt I'll be utterly sick of the sight of trains after about two weeks though. And definitely people. But then again I'm sick of people already, and I doubt any job would change that.

It's amazing how diluted the word "change" has become over these past few months. But perhaps it'll be good. I can't quite see how it'll be any worse.

Now, what shall I do for a month?

"Pacing down the street again, a briskly striding silhouette"

"So how are you?"

You don't care. None of you fucking do. You're only asking because you think I'll say "I'm fine". And I conform to the expectations. Because what's the point in doing otherwise? Where will answering with the truth get me? Other than being tarnished with the mental brush to go with the one marked "disappointment". None of you could give a shit about the answer. To tell you the truth, I don't give a shit how you are. We're only having this conversation because of the misfortune of common ancestry. We both know the conversation isn't going to go on much longer than two minutes before we both go off and say the exact same things to other people. Perhaps, to make things slightly different, someone else will join in this conversation so one of us will repeat the exact same things whilst the other is still standing there. Perhaps that person may know who I am, so maybe they'll ask me how I am. And I can repeat the same old lies about how everything is okay.

I feel like I'm in some kind of strange time warp.

Peter Mandelson is back in the cabinet and OJ Simpson has been found guilty.

From morning to night...

From morning to night, I stayed out of sight,
Didn't recognise what I'd become.
No more than alive, I'd barely survive;
In a word: overcome

Can I have some happy news please? Something going right for once?

I got bored...

...so I made a new blog documenting my new found love of spam. I'll probably forget about it in two days time, but what can you do?

http://spamismapsbackwards.blogspot.com/

What is Roland Rivron for?

I turned on my television earlier this evening to find some Saturday evening guff on (I think it was called Last Choir Standing or something) and standing next to the formerly lovely Myleene Klass (I went off her when I saw her "interviewing" Boris Johnson when pretending to be Judy Finnigan the other day. I almost felt sorry for him with her vapid questioning on policy) was Roland Rivron. It's not that I dislike him. That would be easy. It's just that I can't quite work out why he's on television. He's certainly not bad at presenting. And people must like him, because you don't get a Saturday night primetime slot if nobody likes you (unless you're Piers Morgan). But he's just instantly forgettable. He's instantly recognisable but nothing he's done has been in any way memorable. There's a vague memory of him being a team captain on an awful music version of A Question of Sport presented by Jamie Theakston, but that's only because I was somehow reminded of it the other day.

I do wish that there was some kind of punchline to this, but there isn't.


I'm alone for the first time in a week. It's... weird. Just like everything really. Some things are amazing. Some are terrifying.

Much has happened. And I have no energy to put any of it into words.

Rain is falling on you but you have the wherewithall
To pull on a raincoat, shielding you from all this cold