This, too ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh, internet cafe's closed, eh? I should, er, leave. Something strange is going on. I don't quite know what to do with it. I finished off my hard won (pfft) bar tab, the other night, and ended up with an extra jug and a bit, pint, and bottle of wine into the bargain before actually having to pay for anything, which was nice enough in itself, but, truth be told, things were really as dull and depressing as ever once Indianguy and I grew sick of discussing Sri Lanka's baffling refusal to swing a cricket bat in anything like the proper fashion. I have felt since returning from Mildura that I sort of fell out of some loops and, I dunno, went back to being like I was in England, which is to say, worse, in the vaguest of terms. Probably before my brother got over here I'd learned, sort of, to go out on my own, to be reasonably happy on my own and/or find interesting people and convince them to talk with me. Then I went away, and when I came back it was either hang out with him, which is fine since he's a decent enough lad, or find that a hundred days in one backpackers' hostel is enough to seriously fuck with your world view. But that's how I always used to feel, less the backpackery bit, in England. Ah, depressing. So, lately, I've been utterly confused by so frequently ending up with, in once again vague terms, the attention of whoever happens to be far the prettiest girl in the bar. What... why, I mean, what the hell is going on? And why must I still spend most of my time scuffing my shoes and looking for someone worth talking to? 4:00 p.m. - 2008-02-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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