Today I got up early. I had a shit, shaved, I think I brushed my teeth. I then gorged on a lot of food. Well I say a lot, but it's a bit too much for the day to have eaten by 1pm. I've emailed some mates to organise a get together. My favourite comedian, Marc Maron is coming to perform in London. I have also (as mentioned in previous posts) taken an interest in the proms. I've spent an hour looking up prom dates, and scheduling time to listen to them a day or two afterward.
I've found a lot of really good proms, some which are interesting and curious, and one that is so good I simply must go to. Schoenberg, Berg and Webern in one night.
I have to go. In the first part of that evening is Richard Strauss. It's like a 20th Century German orgasm. So, this morning and noon I have concerned myself with planning cultural outings. I booked some tickets to go to the royal opera house. Free tickets (gasp) which sounds prospective. Given that there are a 60-70 or so proms and about 15 that I've taken an interest in, I've taken some time to schedule these concerts to listen to over the next month.
I'm getting a lot of memories from the past. Fond snapshots of the past. Sweet memories turned bitter. I am trying to not let them dominate me. I want to say to mia 'fuck off'; but really, she's the only one who seems to look out for me. My skill at communication has declined lately, I seem to fall into patterns of thinking and speaking. My mind's grammar and diction is formulaic and repetitive. I hate it. All I'm doing is describing. Perhaps if I read diverse literature beyond my current remit I shall improve upon my modes of expression.
I want to jog today, although my schedule says I should not. In these few days previous to today I've not listened to my playlist very much, or at all but concentrated on my podcasts and proms, as well as applying to jobs and shit. I almost (almost) forgot about my trigger yesterday. I've been wanking a lot too.
Anyway I better get on with things. Toodles.
I've found a lot of really good proms, some which are interesting and curious, and one that is so good I simply must go to. Schoenberg, Berg and Webern in one night.
I have to go. In the first part of that evening is Richard Strauss. It's like a 20th Century German orgasm. So, this morning and noon I have concerned myself with planning cultural outings. I booked some tickets to go to the royal opera house. Free tickets (gasp) which sounds prospective. Given that there are a 60-70 or so proms and about 15 that I've taken an interest in, I've taken some time to schedule these concerts to listen to over the next month.
I'm getting a lot of memories from the past. Fond snapshots of the past. Sweet memories turned bitter. I am trying to not let them dominate me. I want to say to mia 'fuck off'; but really, she's the only one who seems to look out for me. My skill at communication has declined lately, I seem to fall into patterns of thinking and speaking. My mind's grammar and diction is formulaic and repetitive. I hate it. All I'm doing is describing. Perhaps if I read diverse literature beyond my current remit I shall improve upon my modes of expression.
I want to jog today, although my schedule says I should not. In these few days previous to today I've not listened to my playlist very much, or at all but concentrated on my podcasts and proms, as well as applying to jobs and shit. I almost (almost) forgot about my trigger yesterday. I've been wanking a lot too.
Anyway I better get on with things. Toodles.
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