This was written a few weeks ago but I decided not to put it here as it made me sound, sad, needy and depressed. Then I thought f*ck it, at least its honest. So here goes:
I am sat in a pub, its pissing it down outside, i’m having a beer and waiting for it to stop. It won’t. I’m going to get wet tonight either way, if not now, later. So why am I here? Sat nursing a pint writing stupid ramblings in my book. I could be tucked up at home all snug with a good book or film or video game. But no I sit alone surrounded by strangers in a pub putting off moving. I’m about to finish my pint do I get another? As the Clash once said ‘Should I stay or should I go?’ Here I have warmth and beer, at home I have warmth and beer and my bed, so why am I here? Do I sit here in the vain hope that someone will talk to me? Approach me and say hello, what are you doing sat on your own scribbling in a notepad. Am I looking for pity or just some human interaction? How do you meet someone? I am alone, surrounded by people who are not, I should feel strange, I don’t, i’m still clutching on to the idea that if I sit here long enough eventually someone will talk to me. Its like that saying about giving x amount of typewriters to x amount of monkeys they will eventually come up with the complete works of Shakespeare. Eventually, what if we can’t wait for eventually? What if we need it now? Will someone eventually approach me? Ask me how i’m doing? What i’m doing? In films people who are sat on their own are greeted with ‘hey could you use company?’ alas we are not in films, we are in the real world. The real world doesn’t work like films. Its still raining and I’m sat here alone. I’d smoke but I have no light, I’d go up to people to ask for one but it seems I’m surrounded by non-smokers, maybe that should be telling me something. Well if I’m going to get wet I may as well be happy when I do it. I still sit alone but now I have a full pint. A full pint means more time and more ramblings. Maybe I’m destined not to meet anyone, it’s an old cliché but they say there is someone for everyone, but from where i’m sitting on a rainy night, pen in one hand, pint in the other, it seems impossible. Maybe it is. Someone approaches me for a light, I say how i’m also looking for one, they say that if they find one they will sort me out. They do and then they are gone back into their own interaction I have no part of. The rain beats down harder and faster maybe I should have bitten the bullet two pints ago and just gone home wet. It shows no sign of letting up, my waiting for a gap in the weather and maybe a conversation are in vein. A menial conversation with a cabbie is now my only hope, the usual ‘how’s your night been? ‘Good I guess due to the weather’ ‘how’s yours been?’ he says ‘solitary’ I say without hesitation. Just another night in a rainy city I say as I shake my hat and coat like a wet dog. My bed calls to me ‘spend the night with me’ it says, easy I say, I do every night, second nature, at least I can spread out. Later ‘Hey are you writing your diary?’ someone says ‘kind of’ I reply. Not the interaction I’d hoped for and it goes no further. I drink, I smoke, I write. How long does this go on? How long can I be a shadow? Unseen to anyone, part of the furniture, a fixture, a common sight, a loner, a loser, a nobody. Is this truly the ramblings of a madman? Or just the drunken musings of a lonely heart. Two more gulps and I’m gone, less than a quarter of a pint and still an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I need someone I’ll admit that, its just how do you find that someone? Is it here? Here is as good as anywhere, here is a people place, I need people. They surround me but never felt so alone. In a big city i’m a lost soul. A lost soul knows no home. I wander blind through all of it, conscious, feeling and empty. My body is starved of food and touch. Obviously I can touch myself but it’s not that. I need to be close to someone, someone special, someone who will not judge me, someone who cares. Tonight has been an exercise in that not happening. Again.