am subsiding

dear reader

i have come to a conclusion that the world is too much. i've been feeling quite empty lately, probably because when everything is just fanatical and busy and overbearing (such is life) and people are coming at me from all directions, yelling 'buy me!' or 'look, look at me!' making me feel insecure and shapeless and hapless, and just small small small I resort to simply feeling empty, because if I were to be anything else I would be insufficient.
I have also concluded that I have no readers anyway. As I said in previous pieces, who will take me seriously? impassible versus impossible. what am i among the kids, with their backstreet hair cuts, painfully touching (art) blog contributions, people with success and cars, kids again who kiss boys in bands and have photos taken of them as if underground urban celebrity.
i am none of these.
god, i don't even capitalise my 'i's'.
I is a word used too often here and there and everywhere.

One day, when I am big I'd like to be a freelance journalist. I'd like to have time, no day job or power cuts or boy troubles or self troubles at least! just me, my keyboard, my coffee (and it doesnt have to be vida!) and my brain working as if oiled new and slick for a new and rainy day of analysis, arguments and a whole lot of bloody cheek, until i can finally and ultimately GET SOMEONE TO HEAR ME THE FUCK OUT.

there is no time. life is not enough time.
there will be time, time for romance, time for projects. time to meet, time to fight.
i am never enough. never awesome enough. never me enough. surround yourself with awesome people, who write about their days in blogs. sit slumped with drink in hand at gigs, sling back your hair, dance with hands above your tilting head. make out with a girl. pretend pretend!
visit the biscuit mill and pose a bit more. design and sew your own clothes and be an indie kid. do you know, do you know? you're trying in vain to stand out from the rest, when all you're doing, kids, is fitting straight in.