Blues run the game

I write some more. I am starting to feel very low, and I am getting worried about the future again. Although, I penned some more of the writing which I started in April last year. The story of everything that's happened to me.

aI feel massively pretentious sometimes when I write. Like what I have to say is meaningless. A pointless allegory, which no one besides me would want to read. A mystery with no story. If that is true though, perhaps the writing itself still provides a helpful form of therapy. A sort of open way of purging my sins.

I am beginning to realise that I still have unhealthy expectations of myself. Of my fitness levels, my eating habits, my work, my ambitions. I feel like I am working towards things, seeing life in a future context all of the time. I feel guilty and anxious, devoid of meaning in my life right now.

I wonder if I should tell R. But it just feels wrong to put my concerns on her. She struggles with confidence herself, and I don't want to worry her. So, I don't.

I long to have some social contact, to see some friends, have some fun. But I don't feel like I can reach out to anyone. I feel alienated again, detached. I wonder how I put myself in this situation again. I feel desperately lonely, but unable to find anyone I trust to be a close friend anymore. I push everyone away, or they drift away. I don't know which.

I feel like years could melt one into the other, with nothing but working, eating, sleeping and exercising being my life. I am a slave to pointless ambitions, to social convention, to what I feel I ought, I should, I must be doing. I don't know if this is what I want, or not. What I love, or loathe. I curse the world, the superficiality I hate, the people in this city.

I feel like I want to move, but wonder if I would be any happier anywhere else. It brings an old song to mind. Blues run the game.

I want R to be here, to find a job, and live with me down here. But I wonder if I just want to companionship. I think maybe that is more important than anything right now. That I have her companionship, that I feel wanted and trusted and loved. And I begin to realise that I love her in a different way than anyone before. But it scares me. There are things that might not work, and all I can do to her is promise that it will all be ok. But will it be ok? Am I kidding her and myself? Is this really right? All I can think of is how much I would miss her if she wasn't around. So I know I want her always to be around. I trust her. More than I have ever trusted a girl. I don't know how it has come around so quickly, but she is more honourable, caring, trustworthy and reliable than anyone else. I wish it felt like enough.

I seem to crave excitement, danger. I seem to want to make things dangerous, if my life is too quiet. I think of passionate affairs. Sex, rock and roll, political activism, starting a business, becoming someone special. I seem to crave this attention from somewhere. I don't know why I can't just be happy with what I have. But I'm impatient, restless, and looking for something to teach me, something to give me meaning. I hope I can find it.