I started with such eagerness and gusto and I worked with belief. I was organized, worked all day and had to multitask constantly. I was really very happy. Indeed it was the happiest time of my working life and it lasted 4 months. I started my working life in 1995.

Just said ‘Happy Christmas’ to Ash from the Nation. Far out!

For persons who don’t care tomorrow is a day to get over the hangover of today. For those who care… Who cares?

Where did it all go wrong and why does all my effort suddenly feel like it means nothing? I couldn’t care less or be suddenly confused and walled in-up. Am I glimpsing insanity or something else. It certainly feels overwhelmingly depressing or like weight from a subtle increase in the earths gravity.

Snoops is absolutely worn out. Is that his sudden demise too? Is he suffering with something in silence? He makes no complaints if he is. I would hope he would whimper or look different. He just looks shattered. Even talks of ‘where is that damn cat’ seem only to raise his sleepy eyes momentarily.

I caught an episode of ‘Rock and Chips’ dark and woefully troubled. Doesn’t fit with OFAH at all. Del boy is crap. An unreal monstrosity acts his part. NL’s role is like his character from GNSH with a slightly more sinister edge.

By peeling away from the Wetherby bunch at such an age: 32 or 33, I have watched them all marry and settle down and have children. I have not encountered any girls to bend me in my current disappointing empty life, but I think I give off a fetid odour of malignant decay or waste.

Misaligned bus driver does tour of his vehicle which was a change, but while attired like Steve Martin premature grey haired has no semblance of smile for paying guest to his spick show.

A day after booze filled wedding and my queasy stomach signals over doing burgers, crisps and very dry nuggets. Plus vintage cider from Weston’s.

Littlest things get to me. Some guys boring tedious repetitive messaging tone made me move downstairs on the bus.

Just been the props/lighting guy for Paul and his hen do shoot. In and about Leeds docks. Went up the Mint Hotel to their Sky Lounge. Very very posh. Full of hen parties drinking Pim’s and expensive cocktails. Let’s you in to a little of what girls talk about like a fly on the wall. And a bit of flirting ain’t a bad thing. It’s all about banter. I quickly became Daniel or Dan the bagman: but I got flirted with and a smooch off the bride to be for some reason?

Monkey puzzle trees I’ve never noticed before on the juncture of regent street and eastgate.

Enforced exile today after the dance of death with Nick Matthews in the Black Bull. What happened to arrange us there by 7pm and vibrating to the sounds played out on the pa until 9:30pm and the tiny dance floor. It was fun actually, but I discovered Cheryl is in a relationship. And no matter how much fun I had with Nick everyone else was stood pondering. No one got involved. We must’ve looked hideous: two vulgar forty something’s shaking our money makers? Suffering endlessly today. Bored to death. Not heard from Simon at Salsa Mexicana’s. It seems I am not required there? Should I call?

I want to sleep. I don’t want today anymore.
I have to start again. Not do the same.
Not starbucks not mcdonalds nor costa.
It means nothing. I am great. I am worthy.

Shame Shame.


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