Panic

Woke up and within 5 minutes I havd a gut crunching anxiety about ... what? Nothing. Maybe a panic about the uncertainty now I'm on my own. Hymns play on the radio. A beautiful hymn. I wait to hear what it is. Then comes the familiar droning voice of a clergyman. Talking about a mission of evangelism and sightseeing to Zambia - the strangest combination. Then the congregation intones the Lord's Prayer, in that creepy possessed way that ritual throngs have.

I can bear it no longer, and I switch it over to another channel. Except that has someone bleating about how he lived in Stockholm for years, just so long as he was near an airport he was happy. That's alright then, killing the planet ecclesiastically and enthusiastically.

Religious programming in people goes hard and deep - the airport man talked of slaves being shored up by their faith in god as their captors transferred them across the ocean in fear, suffering and death - i wish I could have faith in a hallucination to carry me through.

But it just doesn't wash with me. More coathangers to hang your cloths of mental distress and emotional insecurity.

so I'll keep the panic thanks very much.

Down

Being down has been with me all my life. I occasionally let it go into overdrive, but now it's reached staggering proportions. I can't afford anything, my flat, my computer my van, any clothes.

Everything is beyond my means.

Everything and everyone appears shallow, or at least as meaningless as my own paltry existence.

The Hive

It's eerie to me when I travel on trains, seeing so many people connected to their iphones or ipod. They look like members of a hitech religious cult. Connected to the Hive. Yet the irony is that they are sold to make you look and feel like an individual. An extremely hipandsexy one.

breaking up is hard to do

I've spent 5 years with her, getting to know her. Being with her was a departure from the women I usually went with. She liked me for my brain, she was fierce about me to a degree I'd never experienced. The sex was strange - she was an ex catholic, and it always seemed to revolve around some kind of burlesque fantasy. All the time. I don't mind a bit of it, but there was quite a lot. She moved in with me. We spent two years in DIY stores doing up the flat. I asked her to marry me in front of 120 people. Her mother died. I broke my ankle and she nursed me back to health. I lost my job. She encouraged me to be self-employed. Sex dwindled and died to the point where my advances seemed to be rebuffed. She is hard and implacable and is not interested. I have become emasculated, dessicated, grumpy and frumpy. In the end, she just makes an arrangement for our end of relationship. We are now flatmates. And she wants the flat. We sleep in the bed but I crawl in at 5 after nonsense porn on the computer, and she gets up to go to work so we can minimise contact. And now the unknowing begins.