sunday, post-lunch

This is the time of the week when depression sets in and doesn't lift till at least Wednesday or Thursday. When I look at the clock (fuck it's nearly 2pm) and dread the inevitable packing up and getting ready for another tedious week. When I contemplate the emptiness of family and life and a wasted bookout that never lives up to the promising Friday-morning expectations of fun and friends. Bookouts always seem wasted, no matter how productive they are or how long they are or which of my best friends I spend them with, because they're always too short and I try and fail epically every time to condense my 7 days of life into 2.

I'm hard-pressed to explain why I'm feeling down and world-weary. Well I mean there are blessings; there are friends whose support has been fantastic, there is a future to look forward to... there is music. In fairness life's been pretty kind to me. NS is survivable. I was lucky enough to grow up in a family and an environment with lots of love, care and attention.

But maybe that's it too. Now that that my dad's love's been taken out of my life I've been aching for it to come back to me and my mum. I've tried to fill my life with some re-creation of the love that my dad gave me. It's a poor substitute. Because for love to be fulfilling there's got to be someone to love, and someone to love back. And nope, I've tried but to no end.

I'm wallowing in it, let me wallow. I'm empty, let me indulge in emptiness.

Don't mind me, let me Marvin (v.) for a while.