Well, that "couple of weeks" hiatus lasted nearly 36 hours. It seems the forbidden fruit really is sweeter. Last time I put myself under a Facebook embargo it lasted all of 31 hours. I just can't stop talking crap, apparently, and any attempt to just means I end up bursting at the seams with stuff to waffle about.
At the minute I just feel a little bit dependant on this outlet. I tried to kick the habit because I don't want this to become like a mere log of my emotions: I'd have to change the title to "my shit life and why it matters" or something similar and no-one wants to read that. I certainly wouldn't want to be associated with writing it.
On the other hand, this blog has so far allowed me to talk about stuff that just never seems available for discussion in everyday life, but which I nevertheless feel the need to talk about. I suppose I could just keep a diary but I've always thought that the secretive nature of a diary kind of defeats the object of writing stuff down. If no-one reads it, why write it? Of course, the true, unacknowledged purpose of a diary is not to keep things hidden but to make them accessible. If we wanted stuff kept secret we'd never write it down. However enraged someone may be when you read their private journal, deep down they are rejoicing that you have connected to them in that way without the awkwardness of them actually telling you all this stuff.
Since there's no-one to happen upon my creatively (un)hidden diary and it would be way too much hassle to write everything down 100+ times and secrete it about your houses, it's much easier to blog. Plus, this way you don't have to contend with my terrible handwriting.
Anyway, this brings me smoothly(ish) onto today's topic: friendship and sharing.
I hope it doesn't sound too tragic to say that I had only one person in my life I felt I could properly confide in and now they are gone. There's practically no physical distance between us but a mental or spiritual gap seems to have opened up and either one of us is not the same person we once were, or one of us has seen the other in a new light for the first time. I don't know exactly which of these happened, the change or the awakening, nor do I know which of us changed or awoke. Maybe it's just that they've got their own crap to deal with.
When the dynamic changes in this way the only result is confusion and, to some extent, resentment. Certainly that's how I feel. When that connection is lost, simple misunderstandings can lead to full-blown fights and the total loss of what was a beautiful thing. That almost happened today, I just managed to avoid it, but the repercussions will echo for some time and will unavoidably sour or affect other relationships.
I guess this is why people keep diaries, they don't feel they have someone else to confide in. But I like to think I've got you, reader, and would like to apologise for your being used as surrogate and safety net after the partial loss of a great friend. However little attention you pay, your visits here are most welcome, they turn what is essentially a lonely and depressive young man's diary into a thoughtful and honest attempt to connect to some friends and the wider world. If you've made it this far then you've had to sit through another excruciating bout of my rubbish and my eternal gratitude is with you, as is the promise that I will try to get round to writing something that's worth reading in the near future.
Thanks for listening.
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