i couldn't install thief 2 in the flat; i didn't have privilages on my dad's computer, and there's a weird thing on it where if i start in my profile without going into his first, it does a funny thing and seizes up if you hold down any key. ultima underworld 2 was too demanding; i played it for five minutes and was terrified by the commitment it wanted. so it occured to me that, what with the x-box in the flat, i could go out and buy the faction-tastic theif: deadly shadows. i could do. i mean, i don't have to buy it, i could just see how much they want for it. so i pop into hmv, since there's no point in buying it from an indie computer game shop (if there is ever such a thing. what happened to future zone?). they don't have any copies of it. which is when i realise i have to have it now. fortunately, game have a pwned copy.
so then i walk down cross street, not my usual route home, and turn down king street in case i fancy going to sainsbury's. and there's jess nicols. i didn't notice her at first - well, i saw her, thought, 'she looks like jess nicols', and kept walking, but she called after me. we chatted, talked about the last five/six years in as short time as we could. she said i hadn't changed a bit, and that made me feel very odd indeed. i've been through so much since we lost touch, she can only have been talking about my mannerisms/look, but i felt saddened. i thought the same thing about her. my brain is a perpetual storm, and yet i haven't changed? i shouldn't dwell on it. but this is why i need to exegise.
so i went home, played the first couple of levels of thief:ds, got accustomed to the new (awful. [i hate consoles]) control system. made some poor pasta. played some more. felt the emptiness inside growing and gnawing (great word). should have finished this post yesterday when i could remember the point.
continuationed: oh yeah, so then, i slept really badly and dreampt that marion came back to me and dumped me again. i expect to bump into her one day, but i don't think i'll ever deliberately see her again. i dreampt i was on top of the manchester tower with vertigo, and the floor space was shrinking. i dreampt of other people i hadn't seen for ages, i can't remember what they were doing. i very very nearly slept through the alarm, waking up half an hour late as it was on it's last rattle. staggered into work just about on time. felt shit all day, stressed; even though i don't take pride or care in my work, it still gets to me. got home. another rubbish lonely night, but at least i got to speak to robin, who shot down my teaching idea like an experienced pro.
i just..
oh bugger. fuck it. i won't waste this weekend. i'll do something with it. weekends are fine, it's just the evenings don't seem long enough.
1 comment:
She was almost certainly referring to the way you look, and talk.
But if she'd seen you dressed as a (frighteningly convincing) badger, or with a Travis Bickle mohawk, or listened to your new tunes (this 'aint no Going For A Pie, luv), met any of the friends you've got to know since last seeing her, or simply read anything you've written in the last three years here... then she wouldn't say you had stayed the same.
I think people change, but it's the fine print that gets altered rather than the broad brush strokes. And it's the fine print that matters to you and those that know you well. Everything else is just headlines & pictures.
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