Last time I wrote an entry here,  my mind felt like it was crawling through red-hot 3D Tetris building blocks that were

Tetris life fail

covered in grease and emitting burning plastic chemical smog. How is it possible to let things be and not question them? Equally there is at some point, a place where you have to stop questioning everything and its finer intent, meaning, reason and point, or it’s complete head-jelly-bake time.

For years, I would obsessively play tetris in the dark, on my phone, as I was going to sleep.  Maybe that didn’t help me sleep after all.

It is about two and a half weeks later

I can happily report that returning to take ballet classes was a good idea. The stability of a normal, 9-5 Web Assistant job is probably the thing that has levelled me out a little. A little structure and having a manger who isn’t a neurotic-psychotic-dumb-as-fuck bint is pretty damn useful. I would like to think that having some direction (my latest plan is to learn HTML properly, XML and CSS and then get some super-well-paid WebCat job) will chill me out a bit. Bollocks will it.

This is the first time I have ever had a job I kind of enjoy – despite only a basic position – and within a few weeks when I have learnt everything there is to know about the system I use,  i’m sure i’ll be bored. As yet I still have to concentrate and learn though, which is to be honest, a godsend. I need distractions and busyness still. I am sad for many things, and I hate it.

Some things/events are and always will/would have been out of my control. A friend dying is not something I can control. I can control how I react, or don’t react, to this. That’s what I would like to believe and consistently get pulled up on unexpectedly. But I don’t know how I can deal with it. It is just a fucked up dream thats not going away.

Writing about this feels like a fictional work. This could easily be a story about someone else. Someone who I have made up. I need to deal with this, not just shed a few tears unexpectedly when I get caught off-guard, before I realise, stare off into the distance for a while and plaster a fake smile on. I want to write about this: normally writing helps. Not now, there is even a detachment from writing. Normally this is where I am most brutally honest with myself.

I like Eisbrecher today.

Now I just have to deal with my own decisions. I am very sad today, the things that are hardest are sometimes the only thing to do. It is easier to cut myself away from people, possessions, communication and responsibility; chill out my mind a bit. The less there is, the simpler it becomes, right? I need to see if everything settles into some kind of sense, rather than to bombard myself with emotions that as I have recently rediscovered still flood back like a lumbar puncture gone wrong.

I wish my life was an experiment, a bit like a ‘Learn chemistry lab kit’, you get when you’re a kid. A load of harmless chemicals that react and foam up and make a bit of a rank smell when placed in some cheap test tubes, some litmus paper and plastic tweezers. Token goggles too, goggles make things more fun.

I was going to go to Bang The Boar – what Bang The Boar is, I am not entirely sure. I don’t think my ear’s will cope with this tonight however.

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