Do you take pride in your hurt? Does it make you seem large and tragic?
...Well, think about it. Maybe you're playing a part on a great stage with only
yourself as audience.
-John Steinbeck, East of Eden
The timing of this particular entry seems a bit off. I haven't written anything in nine days, making this piece a little overdue, but at the same time I hardly feel compelled to write anything, and I should have some rather big news coming up in a few days. I do not want to come across as mysterious, nor do I feel the need to build tension or anything. As of right now, I simply don't have all the details yet.
But nine days are nine days, and I promised I'd make sure you'd all get regular updates. I recently learned part of my readership consists of the people I work for/with (bit of a shocker), and I'm assuming my utter lack of tech saviness somehow has me publishing this blog, which was meant as a courtesy to the friends and family who've been forced to deal with me constantly leaving home ever since I turned 18, on a much larger scale than I'd originally intended. Obviously I don't mind (you don't write a blog unless you have a certain level of vanity. In the end we all want to be heard, but we want people to tell us they're listening even more so) but it may result in me alterring the manner in which I've approached this blog up to this point ("What if they realise I'm a talentless bum? What if they fire me on the spot?").
I think I may have already mentioned I live quite close to Loftus Road, the stadium of Queens Park Rangers (that's a football club). QPR play in the Championship, the second level of English football, and they were a Premier League club last year and will most likely be so again next season. In other words, it's a pretty ******* big stadium. Like, nearly 20,000 people screaming at the top of their lungs-big. And by quite close, I mean the same street. I need to walk past the damn thing on my way to the snackbar (which I tend to visit quite a lot).
As QPR are doing quite well in the Championship, things tend to get quite loud on gameday. I like sleeping in, particularly after working a late shift, so last week I was actually woken up by 20,000 hysterical fans celebrating QPR's third goal against Nottingham Forest. It was 2-2 going into the final minutes, and Rangers would score three times in a thrilling final 10 minutes. Needless to say, those three goals really woke me up. As far as alarm clocks go, 20,000 people cheering isn't too bad. I quite enjoyed the first two goals actually.
This got me thinking: I need to find a way to plan having a girl over during a QPR game. If I get everything right, I could be cheered on by 20,000 people while having sex. Not like on a live cd (still the best soundtrack to sexual escapades, Miles Davis be damned), but real-life crowd noises. Imagine that.
Speaking of, I'm really bad at this dating-game-thingy. I don't know how or why (maybe it has something to do with the fact I used to be an actor and followed that up with becoming a surf coach, both of which made seducing women fairly easy) but I seemingly can't do anything right.
Take two weeks ago. I start talking to this really nice girl (and I mean nice in every way, not just the way she looked) and we sort of hit it off and for a few days we'd just talk constantly. Talk is cheap obviously, but even when we met (and I got past the awkwardness of the first hour) it was just fun. Time flew by and while things certainly didn't go perfectly, by the time we neared the end she started asking me when I'd have the time to see her again, even trying to set down a date.
Next day, it's the whole distant, leave-me-alone mess that women tend to do. And I just don't know what happened. Women, if you're reading this: I know you want to be left alone at this point, but at least tell a guy why. Trust me, we've all been hurt to the point where getting turned down after a first date is as close to meaningless as it gets. Men and women alike, we've all got our baggage. At some point we just want to know what we did wrong so we can avoid making the same mistakes with the next one, as cruel as that may sound.
Besides, life is cruel. Deal with it. I happen to be hung like a horse (this could very well be the Song of the Day), am in excellent shape (I work out every day) and women have travelled countries for one more night with me. True story. Okay, the horse-bit might be a bit of an over-exaggeration. But the conditioning and travelling bits are definitely true. You get the point (for the love of god, I hope you never read this).
Parents, I'm very sorry for what you just had to read. Little brother, you're probably snickering. But parents, I apologise. And I'm sure you couldn't care less, I saw/heard far worse stuff growing up anyway.
How are you btw? I couldn't be happier I get to talk to my dad every week, but I haven't heard from the rest of you all that much lately. My brother won't ever answer my messages.
Nah, the dating game isn't all that it's made out to be. And it's not for me anyway. Never really has been.
Man, this city. I could write novels on this place, and I probably will elaborate in a future entry. Soon.
Take care everyone.
Song of the day: (the hauntingly beautiful) Far Away - Jose Gonzalez
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