Tuesday of the completely banal, normal, is this it daylog
Sometimes in dreams, and badly designed platform games, I find myself in some sort of pit, hole, or crater, staring up at the edge that I know marks the join with ground level. The stupid thing about this crater is not that I've fallen into it in the first place - it always catches me slightly by surprise, even though I've been watching it approach for some time - but that it seems impossible to escape from. No matter how hard I run, or how cleverly I launch myself up one side, turn, and sprint off to the bottom and up the slope opposite, I'll always run out of steam a little way before the top.
Sometimes in movies, a helpful droid saves the day, but this ain't the movies kid.
"The greatest gift you'll ever learn
is just to love, and be loved in return"
This is my life: I split up with my girlfriend 14 days ago, after 18 months together, thus bringing my total of unsuccessful long term relationships to three, and forcing me back into single life. I've been single for all of three months since the end of my second year at university, way back in the summer of 1995, and I'm not a big fan. I'm a simple boy with simple needs, who just wants to be loved. According to my personality profile, my moderate narcissism should take care of that, but sadly, it looks like my moderate paranoia is the stronger force these days. So I'm untouchable, unless I find a nice girl with a rebound fetish.
I've been out and about a bit, though, escaping Southampton to see somebody I used to know who seemed happy to see me, even though I'm such a crap friend that she'd deleted me from her mobile phone. I even managed to fit in morning tea in a hotel with my one and only media celebrity friend (Liquid News viewers will know who I'm talking about), on fine form as ever, but it's hard not to be jealous of a man whose biggest worry is how badly his fantasy football team is faring.
The only bright spot in being a miserable pile of bones on the cutting room floor is that suddenly I've noticed that every song that's ever been sung was written for and about me.
So, Johnny Marr's tuning up on my windowsill, and Morrissey's in my bedroom reminding me I'm unloveable, Aimee Mann's got my life figured out, and Airhead, Jesus! Airhead! I'd hoped that my life would amount to more than a couplet from a band whose airplay, as far as I could see, was restricted to an afternoon in the the electrical department at John Lewis "...and this model even has a bass boost". Oh yeah, what's that for then? "It masks the cheapness by making the system sound slightly less tinny."
Anyway, Airhead, unwittingly prescient, saw the last fortnight thusly:
"It's funny how the girls you fall in love with never fancy you. It's funny how the girls you don't, do."
You know who you are.
Not to be outdone by a bunch of hapless indiepoppers whose sole album was called "Boing!" (fer god's sake), Blur have since released a song of quintessential sadness. The kind of song that'll make me nod knowingly. Yup, they've found the nub alright.
No Distance Left To Run
You don't need to tell me
I hope you're with someone who makes you
Feel safe in your sleeping tonight
I won't kill myself, trying to stay in your life
I got no distance left to run
Heartbraking isn't it? No, you're right, not really. Yes, yes, I'll get on with it. Yes, worse things happen at sea, yes it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, and yes there's always someone worse off. I can think of one friend for whom that's certainly true, and my thoughts are with him.
Soon, I hope, I will be able to sing along with Alex Chilton in a totally unironic fashion, with no bitterness, and a grin to shame the cheshire cat. I'll be just another hopeless romantic, listening to appalling upbeat music. But life will taste so good I won't care. All together now:
"I'm in love with a girl
Finest girl in the world
I didn't know
I could feel this way"
Soon? How soon is now?