Time moves on, ticking by. Stars collide, weather changes.
I get a haircut and finish reading Nick Cave’s ‘And the Ass Saw the Angel’. This book being the reason for my lack of entries over the past two days. That feeling of time running out, that feeling of just another page, egging you on at quarter to the midnight hour (before the football starts). Just another twist of plot to intrigue and entice further inspection. To tease tired eyes onwards.
And now I’m empty of literature – dispensed it all out of my mind as soon as it went in and now in need of another fix. Like a junkie looking for a needle, I was looking through our small book collection. Think I may start on a reread of Hunter S Thompson’s ‘The Great Shark Hunt’.
Football, of course, has kept my brain stimulated and Broni has quested on a fitness regime at the gym and pool while I slob in front of the TV, egging my teams on (whoever they maybe). I won’t bore you with scores, old memory, but see if you can drag up that Italy vs Norway match when Italy’s keeper got sent off and remarkably their coach opted to sacrifice Roberto Baggio (one of the world’s best players) and eventually his gamble paid off.
Much, much more to look forward to on the football front but now I must devote some time to my sweetheart – a companion worthy of my attention. A lover worthy of my desire. I love her and want her and she forgives me all the shit I give her in my way.
Sometimes I don’t understand my way. In fact I don’t think it’s meant for me to understand but for people looking in – for you. I hope you don’t judge me purely on my way – in fact, try not to judge me at all (I’ll try not to judge). You are you, you be your way – that’s okay. I am my way. I think you’re beginning to get my drift.
All’s you need to know, diary friend, is she is special to me,