coming home?
[13 February, 2005 typed at 9:02 p.m.]

as the invisable work scars, bruises and scratches heal, i sit with a cuddly cat in my lap, thought in mind and prepared to write what seems to feel like an entry people could be craving, an entry im craving to get out of my head, an entry that lacks what it should of when it was supposed to be written the day before and the day before that.

this diary seems to be becoming more dusty day after day as the cobwebs fill the empty space of gavin-joel dot diaryland

thoughts that go through my head all day every day at work, but lack substance when i get home....too lazy? i hear you say, no - too tired? no, i dont know what it is, i get home from work, jump on the computer, sign into msn, look at a couple of websites, then get chatting away, so im neither too lazy to write, nor too tired to put thoughts in place - in all honesty i have no idea what it is, maybe i dont want to produce my thoughts online anymore, maybe i secretly like the dirty bubbly waste thoughts stewing in my head, holding grudges, blaming others and being a bitter old man, until i slowly let my guard down and continuiously start apologizing for things i've said and done to hurt others,

what am i doing? this was my comfort when i had fuck all else, this was the shelter i would dream of, no cencorship, no secrets....but now it's getting to be my procrasination chore, that i put off til last moment when all thoughts are dead and gone, forgotten about

maybe it's time to pick up the slack, maybe it's time to set that mind frame, maybe it's time to let the shit hit the fan, maybe it's time to come back, back fully
this comfort when no-one else was there

i found myself looking at music and hating it recently, not all, but some, churping shit about music that i didnt need to, giving shit to artist that cant hear me or wouldn't give a shit if they could....and why?
jealousy, getting the best of me, 'cause im not in the position to influence those young/old minds in that kind of creative million mass manner - music was my love (and still is) for the longest time, and yet i had to take a moment and look at what i was doing and saying, letting it get the best of me, for no reason.....thousands of people write music/poems/hikus/lyrics/lymerics and get no where, just they are happy enough to let those feelings out in that manner, which i am happy to do (only for so long)

now i must bid all you farewell, as this cat is doing it's own attentino craving by sticking it's wet nose im my face while sitting upon the computer desk and not letting me type

[meow]

away + towards