On Tuesday I meet Scott and we go to the gym and do shoulders and abs, and the Eastern European guy is also there and Scott points him out to me as “the new guy who’s sexy” even though we’ve seen him about 10 times now, but Scott has a problem remembering anything and I often have to re-introduce myself to him if we haven’t seen each other for a couple of days.
Then I go home and I try to find some old pictures with stupid hair to post on here as promised, so I go through an old cupboard box that I keep on top of the kitchen cupboards and instantly this is not a good idea because I get depressed. I find pictures from Athens when I was growing up and I also find pictures from the 6 years that I lived up North before moving to London.
Pictures from Andrews’ birthday night out during out second year at Uni, pictures of the beer can wall we built in our house in Sheffield, holiday pictures from summers spent on Greek islands, pictures of my last night out in Manchester before I moved to London which I spent in a horrible / fantastic club listening to Livin’ On A Prayer by Bon Jovi, drinking and crying. I think that’s still back when I had feelings.
And I get depressed because – I’m not sure but – I think I was kinda happier back then. Maybe that’s not necessarily true but I definitely want my innocence again, and I don’t think it’s coming back any time soon.
And the other thing I’m sure of is that if I could go back, I would do everything differently.
In any case, here’s a picture of me when I was 21 and I had the worse haircut this side of 1972. The quality is really bad because I had to take a picture of the actual photo (I have no scanner), but you can easily identify:
- The ghostly white skin
- Arms equal size to my wrists
- The delusion that I should be the fifth member of the Stone Roses
So how a person can turn from thinking that’s an ideal body image / look / life philosophy to this (see below, taken this Wednesday 24/10/07 at 1933) I don’t quite know but it seems to have happened. I've sold out, etc, etc.
Incidentally, I found lots of pictures from the past with various ridiculous haircuts like that, so if you wanna see any more, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
After all this I decide to watch some Greek TV, put the porn channel on, watch a girl with no less than 3 piercings where there should be none, contemplate what would drive somebody to choose a career of having sex for money and being filmed for it, lose faith in people even further, apply bronzing, aloe vera-scented moisturizer, go to bed and start reading a Greek newspaper I bought on Sunday, realize that I’m actually having difficultly following the flow because it’s in Greek, feel ashamed, remember I last received education in Greek when I was 17, justify my handicap to myself, turn off the light.
Then Scott decides to turn up around midnight and stay over, I lie in bed for a bit pushing him away, take a sleeping pill, wait another half hour, go in the kitchen, boil some water, fill my hot water bottle up, go in the living room, pull the sofa bed out, finally fall asleep. The last time I look at the clock it’s 0235
PS. I just opened my post and I found out that somebody (erm...one of you) has sent me an item from my Amazon wishlist - the Reader's Guide to American Psycho. Thanks very much (whoever sent it didn't let me know), this is really sweet. Also at the moment I've finally got round to reading the David Sedaris book I received a few weeks ago, so thanks again for that. This has cheered me up a lot tonight.
I have 1 song by the Divynils s and I've played it 14 times
I have 1 song by DJ Jose and I've played it 2 times
I have 3 songs by DJ Quicksilver and I've played them 10 times