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[06 Apr 2008|12:25am] |
I survived, just.
Rebecca has made her presence felt. She made her presence felt tonight, in fact. I made a point of sitting in front of her, at the bar. Her and her folks, were directly behind me. She looked sad, lonely. I took the opportunity to turn and look directly at her, to give her the phylly stare, when her and said folks got into conversation with Stuart, who was standing at said bar.
Said Rebecca looked beautiful, her beauty lies in her deep endless eyes. She wore a distracting low cut top, which clearly emphasised cleavage. I'm not concrete, I notice cleavage. But I noticed her eyes more. I'm in love with her eyes.
But that's not enough. I wanted her to catch my gaze, to stare into my eyes. Because I think my eyes are worth catching the gaze of. She did not. I at least need eye contact. Beautiful though she is, I don't think she's the one.
And I don't know, really, if anyone at all is.
Perhaps i'm destined to be just Phylly.
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[06 Apr 2008|12:42am] |
I haven't watch this, yet. I'm sick of vetoing, to check my skin is not bad and my hair looks right. I think now, fuck it. This started out as a silent movie, but I began to talk.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCHyDyc7of8
If i'm mumbling, sorry. It's late, and i'm a little tiddled.
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[06 Apr 2008|10:39am] |
My views in romance remain old fashioned and true, honurable. Despite my little piece last night, I still believe in it. I do however with every passing day, wonder if it really exists, and if it does for me.
I'm not sad, or anything like that. Just thoughtful. I don't think in my entire life i've met a woman who I truly click with. I think that's what got to me, last night. I'm pretty damned good, and I know I am, but I think I belong in the fricking 1920's or something. In the time of Brief Encounter, because with all the screaming in the street, tapping heels, inarticulate noises and things, all the things that happen in my life, suggest that my idea of love is at utter dischord with the post-modern.
Suffice to say, I can't change. I must keep myself, and stay me. That's two ways of saying the same thing. One day, my friends. One day. One day some poor sod will mother my heathen children!
Ah, maybe. Thanks, folks. Good entry, this. For me, anyway. Bye!
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[06 Apr 2008|04:18pm] |
It's amazing how much Tom Hank's face has changed in twenty years, since the tomfoolery of BIG. His face has expanded, like a pancake in a rainstorm. Is that what age gives you? Expanding face and loosened bowels. Cheers, time.
It's snowing here, in April. I like snow, but I don't like snow in April. It's not the season for snow. The seasons are all mixed up. The earth is creaking at it's core. Something is truly wrong with modern life when we have this kind of phenomenom.
Aside from this occurence, I am unmoved by much today. I'm having one of those apathetic phases, when I feel little, or no emotion whatsoever.
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[06 Apr 2008|08:01pm] |
It's Labyrinth month here on the Zoomeister diary. I've worked out that no matter what mood you're in, Magic Dance is 100% likely to improve your mood. Unless you hate David Bowie. Which you shouldn't. Because he's awesome.
This month i'll be singing every song from the fucking film on Youtube. Watch this space, coming soon!
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