Introspection

Hey, how's it going? Apologies in advance - feel this just may be random ramblings.

I'm a bit concerned. I've been trying to think about it but I don't actually know me at all. I don't know who I am. When you've spent the last three or four days concentrating on one issue and fail to find any conclusions this is pretty worrying. I should know, for christ's sake. If I don't know who I am who else will?

Ok, let's look at the facts. People seem to like me. I have no idea why this is. I don't particularly like me to be honest. I've admitted that I've lied and underachieved for two decades. I am a carrier of misery. Maybe it's pity. I am proud that I have never set out to do any of this, and prouder still that I have never taken any pleasure in the pain I've caused. Should I see someone in pain I tend to cry. If anything the sadness has just fuelled more drinking. Maybe people see what could have been in themselves in me, and are just glad it isn't them. I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything any more. Maybe it's because they know I love them too, unconditionally. And I do love you. Unconditionally. I hope you know that. No shit this time. I really do. Thank you to all of you who've tried to get hold of me of late. Friends, family. Some crazy Welsh girl who stalks my blog..............I can't believe I'm laughing at a time like this. The world should be more like this. A place where piglets and polar bears get on, and have crazy adventures. Nothing is impossible. Hopefully.

Oddly I also always seem to win. Not actually win, but near enough to keep some credit. Not by any outdated conventional manner, or even by score. It always seems to work out that just when literally everything has gone to shit something turns up. Ace on the river, being sober enough to nail an exam. Something always just turns up. Had a chat with a mate yesterday. I felt it best not to go to his daughters birthday party in this state. His dad tragically passed away a few years ago and I am sorry to say that he left the world with the view that I am an international class cricketer. I am however, pleased to say that I knew him a little. "He was a good man" seems a trite epitaph, but I can't think of a better or more fitting one, and it's more than I can hope for. He truly was. He came to watch us play cricket just the once. I was so hungover/drunk I forgot to move position at the end of the over leaving me about 10 yards away from a man with a bat who twatted a ball at me just as I lit a cigarette. There was no time for my team mates customary shouts of "For fucks sake M*****", as I dived full length to my left to catch a ball travelling at about 130 mph, whilst still smoking. This is me. Moments that last but I can't find any substance in me.

Who knows how this will end? My folks are back Tuesday and I can't wait. I need to just sleep. Recover and be something. Maybe that's what I'm scared of. Scared to be great. Scared to be good. The excuse when turning up to work drunk after splitting with my wife sums me up. "H***, I may be drunk but let's face it. I'm better at this job drunk than any other fucker is sober". No substance.

Sleep well. x