That leaf

Why am I even keeping this blog? I don't think that anybody reads it... At least the stats tracker that I have set up seems to indicate that. Should I break out from this hideous malaise, this pathetic existence that I'm eking out, would I really want to turn back the page and read about it?
I had promised myself upon commencement of this very diary that I wouldn't succumb to a leaning towards teen-angsty outpourings. Guess I failed, looks like I'm doomed to have the epitaph - "life sux man" engraved upon my tomb. I feel a gnawing, gnashing unhappiness that is pervading every action and reaction in my day to day dealings. I am also too lazy, scared and scarred to bother changing my situation.
I'm finding all sorts of hidden meanings in Elliott Smith songs; that can't be a good sign, look where he ended up... I'm not suicidal - too lazy to bother with that shit - also, I think that it is my duty to push forward and die of natural causes. I don't need to worry about laziness there either, that is one thing that is bound to take care of itself sooner or later...
I found a leaf by her bed today and on it (in black biro) was written L.M 4 T.E. It is amazing how 5 characters can ruin a person’s day.

Good news in the midst of a fever

The coming weekend has ushered in good news! My termination date at work has been announced. This may sound like bad news to some, however it means a significant payout and a chance to start my life over afresh. I have been working this mindnumbing job for 5 years now and finally change is afoot...
What shall I do? I'm due to receive around $20,000 redundancy compensation and I need to decide what direction to head from there. I'm leaning towards an overseas journey at the moment, and possibly putting some money towards a deposit on a small 1 bedroom appartment. That way I won't have that empty, fallen behind feeling that so many people experience when they return from abroad.
At least having all these choices truely cements the realization that I am actually going to "break on through" as Jim Morrison put it, to something new. The other side. How exciting!
In other, not so exciting news - I have a terrible head cold. Nose chaffing, lungs wheezing, body aching... Ahhhh, the dubious joys of mortality.

Of shyness and social retardation

So I'm at a bar right? I'm not the kind of guy that girls normally even glance at let alone smile at. Despite this a cute girl keeps looking over and smiling and doing this kind of roll-her-eyes-back-in-her head thing that has my heart all aflutter. So I'm thinking to myself; nah, she isn't looking at you, she is looking right through you and thinking about some joke her uncle told her when she was three. Self defeating kind of inner dialogue, you know? So here I am having talked myself out of accepting her quite obvious interest. Fuckhead that I am. All of a sudden one of her friends approaches. I kind of realize what is about to go down but instead of excitement I feel a sense of absolute horror. Oh no, she is going to talk to me or ask me to come over and meet her friend. Shit, I'm not going to have anything to say. I'm going to freeze up and be exposed for the fraud that I am. Leave me alone! Let me enjoy the possible fantasy that she is interested and let me dream and delude myself that if I had of spoken to her I would have been charming and witty and dashing and all the other clichés that you are told in trash Hollywood films that you are supposed to be when tackling an interaction with the opposite sex. But her friend doesn't receive your silent telepathic communication, she continues on towards you with a grim resolve. Kind of like the way the terminator pursues his quarry in the film. Closer. One step, two steps, three steps. My life flashes before my eyes. Go away damn it! But she doesn't... She forces her presence into my line of sight and says: "Can I introduce you to my friend?" I jump and act startled to maintain the charade of me not being aware that this was all about to transpire. "Yeah, sure" I say despite the inevitability of my humiliation when I cross the room and make contact with her friend. So she leads me across the room towards her friend and a feeling of calmness comes over me. The calmness of one resigned to their fate. The calmness of one condemned to the gallows. So you reach the group of girls standing on the dance floor, not one girl, not the girl that has been staring at me and her friend - no - a virtual harem all looking at me expectantly. To compound the difficulty of the situation my friends have become aware that something unusual is unfolding and they are all watching as well. I feel their eyes boring into me, discovering all my inadequacies and failings. The music becomes a faint drone at the back of my consciousness. It seems, in the deeps of my narcissistic mind, that the whole room is watching me awaiting my demise. I make eye contact with the green dress girl "Hi" I offer up lamely, "my name is Jason" I give this introduction, in almost robotic fashion to green-dress and the rest of her friends. I receive a similar response. I look round and say "this almost feels like a job interview". Fuckhead. Meathead. Moron. They let out an uneasy laugh. Who have we let in to our circle of trust they must be thinking to themselves. I start to make conversation with green-dress; "where do you live?" "What do you do?" Banalities all of them. I'm starting to sweat, I'm auditioning for some reality TV show called "Socially retarded idol" and I'm crashing and burning. Despite this she makes pleasant conversation back and actually seems mildly interested, in an aloof sort of way. I find out she works casually at the War Memorial, a short 5 minute walk from my work. I also discover that she is studying her masters in Australian history at university. She discovers that I work a shitty job and that I pace from side to side when I'm nervous. In some amazing show of resilience of charity she still appears interested. I however have no such fortitude. This shuttle is going down and I'm looking for the ejector-button. "I'm going to get a drink" I say. "Oh, she says" with what seems to be a disappointed tone. "I might come back over later" I say. "I'm going home soon she says." So, what do you think I did at this point? Asked her for her number? Not me. Tried to make further conversation? No way! Thought up some witty line to make her laugh and relieve our mutual attention? Not a chance. No, I slink away towards the bar muttering to myself "stupid motherfucker..." "Total dipshit..." "Tumbling, tumbling dickweed..." I guess my question is rhetorical when I ask do you think after buying my drink I went back over to talk to her? Upon returning to my group of friends they asked "what happened? What was going on with that girl?" The looks of horror and disgust when I tell the girls how I managed to fuck up yet again are commonplace by now. So, what have I learnt from last night’s experience? Next time a girl looks my way I should go home and call it a night.

Bright eyes

Bright eyes. I long to burn there. In my longing lies the extinguishment of flame. Broken twigs and polished glass. 26 coals fading fast. And I shall wait for you there amongst the lonely debris of an ocean gone mad.

Employment induced zen

I did absolutely nothing at work today. I'm talking zip, zilch, nada, and zero. There have been many days over the last 5 years that have echoed this pattern. I simply have no interest in what I'm doing there and yet I don't seem to be able to motivate myself to find something better to do with my time. They pay me well too...
I think the same feeling is in the minds of a lot of my co-workers. Ryan didn't even turn up yesterday and nobody bothered to ask where he was. He came in today and didn't bother to fill in a leave form. I think that, personal pride aside, if you worked for this company you would probably feel the same way. I still realize that it is pathetic that I don't go out and do something more fulfilling.

Snap Dragon

I purchased some more clothes today, far more than I intended to. I bought them from Dangerfield and a vintage clothing store called Out of the closet. My new wears include 1 - pair of black jeans, 1 - pair of very strange pants, 1 - cheap pair of slacks (which probably look better than the previous two far more expensive pants), 1 - black t-shirt and a black belt.
I seriously had no intention of buying any clothes at all however the girl in Dangerfield was really pretty and I got roped into it. I'm pretty sure she was just saying she liked everything to make me buy more stuff but it was nice to have a funky chick pay attention to me and pay me compliments. She looked a lot like an ex of mine with big shiny eyes and a warm cherubic face. I guess I got ripped off but it was fun!

Some days

Some days all you need is a comfortable pair of shoes, some good tunes and a nice new coat. Then you smile.