Sitting up late-ish, strangely calm. Usually i'm pretty stressed out this time of night, but I had fun the last evening and day, probably since I stayed away from the city centre all day. Yay for no hustle-bustle!
The city grinds me down. It's way outside of my comfort bubble. I can handle it, now. It look me the best part of eight months that
Don't I know it.
I've never seen myself as "a culchie". And I fuckin' hate the Dubs that will play on that horrid, catch-all, us/them mentality. Yeah, I hate ya. There's no need for it. What, so I didn't grow up in a place where you have to step over and around the strung-out junkies on the streets? Where every main thoroughfare is now a procession of Chinese restaurants, Carroll's Irish Trash shops and Londis shops - is it self-pity or pride that's going on here?
The Yuppies.
The yuppies kill me. I feel my lungs clench up and embrace my heart in my chest as if to protect me from them. I want to help them more than the homeless. Maybe its one positive thing of what’s going on in the world right now - maybe being let go from their companies will free them from their horrifically hollow and unimpressive lives. Then again, I’ve got other friends who are in no way yuppies, but also feel the need to express everything as the most impressive. Maybe I’m just not easily impressed.
But what I like about
It’s real good.
One thought I had lately that gets me through a bit, needs a little refinement maybe:
"Life is like the middle of a sentence; it rarely makes sense until it’s finished."
Night.
