Monday, 7th August, 2017.
Another week. I am currently waiting to see if I have a little job to do today. A couple of hours, ten minutes up the road. Fingers crossed.
I’ve been out to my dads house to collect my health and safety card. Still no word about work. I need to take my boy into town for clothes, and a haircut.
Yet another picture of me looking like a convict.
Birdseye. Awaiting boss. Hopefully, it’ll be an easy, quick one. Stick a cable in a wall. Isn’t life fun?!?
It’s the biggest picture of fish fingers I’ve ever seen!.
I’ve just finished shopping with Louis. It was surprisingly easy. Who says teenagers are difficult. All that’s left is a haircut for him, and a pint of Guinness for me.
I sneaked it in. Sadly, I’m in The George. The most depressing place on earth. It reeks of imminent death. £2.25 though. If you’re gonna kill yourself, do it on the cheap.
Tuesday, 8th August, 2017.
I’m back to work today. Two days in a row! I know. Amazing, right? I could do with a few solid weeks. Hopefully, they are coming.
I am hoping this job will be a couple of hours, in and out. It’s pretty tedious, relocating data ports for desk allocation. It was even tedious typing it.
All in all, another dreary day.
Ok. Waterloo is officially fucked for the rest of August. The train has been sat outside for 30 minutes. Bag of Shite!
Ok. So, it wasn’t that bad. I’m heading home. I did think I was going to pass out a couple of times. Oh well. If you burn the candle both ends and in the middle, you get what you deserve. I picked up 3 aluminium bottles of Corona for the way home. They’ll get me there.
I find it very difficult to understand how it took them, what seemed like, a decade to make platforms 20-24 at Waterloo. It just looks crap.
Wednesday, 9th August, 2017.
I just slept for 13 1/2 hours straight! Blimey! I haven’t done that since I was about 25. I dunno if I feel better for it, or worse. That said, what a Shitty old day. All I can hear is constant rain. Not good for the depression. It’s been, pretty much, held at bay for a while now.
Pfft. I might as well just go back to bed. What an absolutely, pointless day. Maybe I expect to much. I’m sure there is a boxset I can distract myself with.
Thursday, 10th August, 2017.
Early mornings. This is where it’ll always get you. The misery of life. Wishing you had done things differently.
Regrets and torture. No thought for what you have, just what you haven’t.
Borough High Street.
Reminders everywhere. Close to my heart. Things lost. A time I hoped too much. The intensity has gone but, I feel, it will never leave me. Just another load for the sack of pain, that I force myself to carry.
Good news but with a sour twist. My housing has been approved and I can finally bid on properties. The twist is, the lack of them. There are 3 available this time. None of which are suitable. At least I CAN bid.
Roll on next selection. In 2 weeks time!!!
I’m always amused by comments people make about my blog. I always view it as a work of fact and fiction. You would have to know me, very well, to decipher it. I expect most people get a lot of the fact/fiction arse about face. Or not. The real truth is,……there is no truth or lies. Just words, and meaning.
Why would I tell you all this? All this about my life? Why did I start?
To end the loneliness I feel?
Here is the reason:
Free therapy. I discovered, right at the beginning, by putting it all out there. Every thought, emotion, truth or fantasy became therapy.
When you have nothing left to hide, there is nothing left to hurt you.
The Book Of Hate.