I often have to remember what day it is
And
My mate’s mother keeps asking me if I like that electron music
And
I’ve lost count
of the amount
of times my own mother has asked me what the genre of my first album is.
I opened the fridge
And
was smacked on the leg by a slab of loose cheese
And he
had a peasant hunch
And I
thought –
White shoes on short men probably doesn’t work
And why
does everyone say ‘impacted’ instead of ‘affected’?
I blame James Murdoch.
Anyway.
Peasant Hunch had a slightly faraway look in his eye.
He was the boyfriend of this girl who said –
‘Sometimes the concept of being anywhere baffles me. I think people have families just to stop the boredom, the grinding monotony, the sense that really if you think about it, everything has little to no meaning. The drugs are no longer fun, the exchange rate’s fucked, you get gibbed every time. The days after are murderous, crucifying, stultifying, debilitating. And when even the drink starts to do that… Well, fuck me. And you think – what’s left? What else can I do?’
Another woman said – ‘is that a bad thing? I bet life does take on new meaning when you’re a parent.’
He said – ‘it all just seems remarkably hollow. Because then you’ve got the soul scraping procedure of catchment areas.’
The conversation was easy enough at first
But I had the impression we’d talked about all we could talk about.
And anyway
Some of the things I was saying were just so clichéd.
The conversation became stale.
Plus
I was seeing a lot of girls because I had no (or very little) faith that I would actually meet someone I really wanted to be with.
And when I did –
They were with someone else already.
So talking about kids and schools seemed a berserk waste of time.
Sigmund Fraud Books 