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[10 May 2008|02:37am] |
Hazy, spinning world. Ramsgate, in ether. I saw wine, I saw heat and I saw low rooves, I saw people. I socialised, but not much. It was a mate's birthday. I saw everything I thought last night come true. I fell into a sleep, almost. In the bar. I thought of you. I don't know why. I thought what you'd say. You'd giggle. You'd agree with me, you'd shout at the decor, you'd neck the wine. I found that everything I thought was true. And i'm happy with it.
I had a good time. I did. And it gave me something I didn't have, and that is it showed me how much i've grown up.
I'm glad. I like nights like this. But I still thought of you. You'll never ask me why, and I won't tell you. But I missed you.
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[10 May 2008|10:59am] |
Spot the difference. Have you seen it yet? Yes, now when you recieve a comment reply, it says entry rather than post. Subtle, but entry sounds more dirty than post. I like it.
Dirty boy!
Just two more days to go until the good times. I don't count Monday because it's piss easy. The real work will be done today. That hockey team? They're in at nine fifteen. That's in the last hour of cooking time.
Yeah. Oh well, it'll mean I won't have time to drink. Anything that stops me doing that is good. Unless it's this. Oh well. Last night I knocked off a bottle of red. Without blinking.
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[10 May 2008|03:53pm] |
Last night I was told by someone, that when she's depressed or is having a bad day, she remembers something that I wrote on my diary about her a few months ago. How touching is that? She said it brightens up her day. I was moved because it's such a nice thing for someone to say. When I write such things, i'm being honest. Sometimes I think when I write things i'm being too out there, showing too much of myself, but I don't really thing I can be any other way.
But yes, all the time this diary actually makes someone, or some people feel better about themselves, I will always have a good reason for writing, even during my own bad days.
Today hasn't been bad, though i'm looking forward to getting the weekend finished so I can start thinking about relaxing. I have three more shifts to go. It doesn't sound like much, but it's sweltering in that kitchen (Fuck knows what it'll be like in three months time) and it's busy at the weekend, and, AND, we have that hockey lot in.
Actually, that isn't as bad as I thought. Andy was joking. They're in at seven fifteen. Cheeky old Andy.
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