bittersweet again

It's late. I'm drunk. Clearly it's time to blog. Blogtime!

Sometimes the moment is more important than the moment after. A lot of the time in fact.

As always, I have nothing to say; I'll find something to say, as always.

Nothing to say out loud, anyway.

It's been a while since I've said what I've been doing.

Today I did this and that, talked to Sam, talked to Joe, talked to Est, talked to everybody. Saw Tim off at the station. I'm pretty sure I talked to him too.

Drank wine, got locked out of my flat and had to gatecrash a party in the block opposite to steal a knife to break my way back in. Also managed to cadge a bottle of wine and two cigarettes off lovely Italian men named Alessandro and Lorenzo respectively.

I've had so many conversations with so many people about the same things that I can't remember who said what and all the words are overlapping into one big mess and I'm attributing the wrong phrases to the wrong people.

In theory, it doesn't matter who said what, only that it was said. In actuality it matters so fucking much, but what I want right now isn't what I'll want tomorrow.

It doesn't matter which 'he' said it, because even if 'he' said it, sometimes the moment to come is more important than this moment.

This moment, 'he' ought to call and tell me he loves me, he ought to come over. But it cannot happen unless it does. Everything that happens is a product of what happened before. Tonight, and the unfair thing that I chose to do, was already going to happen this morning. This morning was already going to happen the way it did because it had to because of last night.

Cause and effect, cause and effect, cause and fucking effect, til there's no point in worrying about tomorrow because it's all already in hand. Not in the hand of God, but in the hands of what every one of us is doing right now. Only that will affect tomorrow.

See how it goes up and down?

I knew in that moment that the moment that followed it would be painful, but our minds were made up. I know in this moment that is painful that the next moment will be better. Things will rise again.

Cheap wine and Italians and closure. Thank God it's Friday.

Roll on Saturday.