Dear diary

Dear diary

Today was a weird day. So I went to watch a load of hunky grown men fondling each other, in a sport they call ‘rugby’. I found it incredibly homoerotic. It is a shame that they don’t show women’s sports on the telly. Anyway. So that was… well… it was what it was. Met some nice swingers. When I say nice I mean friendly, and not in any way attractive.

Trans guy did quite a good job of avoiding talking to me. Thankfully he had a harem of lesbians to keep me reasonably entertained. Although I didn’t know many of them, they are from the valleys (where I’m from) So of course the conversation goes thus:


Do you know T?

Yes, she was my first girlfriend.


So you know R then?

Yes, my second girlfriend.


Oh I used to go out with her girlfriend, K.

Now you mention it, I did sleep with K too.



Yes, although she wouldn’t let me go down on her, she has a one-month rule for that.


The sheer drudgery of it all, I find mildly unsettling.

By this stage I really was of a mind to get totally wankered to be honest, although when it came to it, my stomach, well my stomach was wary. So I decided to treat it kindly. My colitis can be very unforgiving.

So it’s nice to get out of the house. But I’ve gone from being depressed to… bored.

People my age, they’re lovely, but I don’t feel… well I don’t feel I have much in common with them.

When there’s 5 of them crammed together in a toilet cubicle snorting something and you just think… there has to be more to life than this.

I’m thankful I have friends, I have several different groups of friends now, but I just don’t know where I fit.

And I just, am so, incredibly bored.

So I come home and have a cigarette in the garden. I don’t really smoke, except when I’m bored, and hang around with people who smoke.

So I sit in the plastic garden chair, it’s pitch black outside. And the sky, well the sky is beautiful. I see Orion. It’s the only one I know to be fair. And I think to myself, I’d like to learn the other constellations. But I need someone to point them out to me, really.

So my ex taught me that one. And it’s always there. Isn’t it. And it’s always a reminder of everything. I miss her so much. She’s with her new girlfriend in London.

I just miss her.

So what do I do? Do I get addicted to drugs. Do I try and start a band. Do I go and visit my parents in Cyprus, or my friend in Romania. I am trying to get a job, but that just isn’t happening. I have so many choices, I don’t know what the fuck to do. Do I find a girlfriend or boyfriend and start a family. (Obviously my spouse would have to be gainfully employed.) I never was any good at making decisions. One thing’s for sure, I’m so fucking bored, I have to do something.

Everything seems so hopeless. Not in a depressed way, in a boring way. I suppose that’s progress. Is it? Boredom preferable to depression?

Anyway. Everything is a reminder of everything isn’t it. Things we share with people. Experiences we share with people. We’ve got all these memories. And they’re all so pointless. That’s how I feel right now anyway.

Reminds me of that song. Everyone you know, someday, will die.

Fucking hate that song.

6 thoughts on “Dear diary

  1. It’s not all pointless, just mostly. 😉

    In my experience, doors always close until the time is right. As for your boredom, finding ways to spend your time is kind of exciting. I know I’m getting all my travelling and family things done while I’m employed part time. I’m looking forward to a full time job though, because that will mean more money in the bank.

    Either or, you should probably stay away from drugs. Everyone that does them regrets it sooner or later (plus they are expensive). 😉

    • Yes that is definitely the main obstacle to becoming a drug addict – the cost – lol. Although once my phone sex career gets started I should be rolling in it 😉

      Ok, that is a joke, sort of. Although it was a genuine suggestion from one of my friends who knows I’m not having much luck applying for jobs…

      I will find a way to kill my boredom I’m sure. Even if I just stick to blogging 😉

      • LMAO!

        Well, I actually have a legit question because I’m too lazy to use Google… Is prostitution legal in the UK? It’s obviously not legal here (I say we should legalize and tax the hell out of it, but no one listens to me).

        And yeah, I’m curled up with Game of Thrones listening to classical music with a chorus singing in Swahili, so consider my boredom creatively vanquished. 😉

        Happy blogging!

        • I don’t really know lol. I don’t think it’s illegal in itself, certain things are, kerb crawling, soliciting, that type of thing. But even then I don’t think the laws are too firmly enforced. Certainly phone chatlines are ok, advertised in mainstream magazines. There’s usually even an ad or two in the paper… as long as you call it “sensual massage” or something I think you’re fine lol.

  2. It is funny that scene you describe in your post – it seems to me to be anything but boring….but I do feel for you….you seem to be itching to get out and doing something really different….you will, I am sure, and before too long. Meantime, keep blogging. Love reading you. Even when you are fed up, you write about it really well (better for us I guess, but still, just thought I should tell you!). 🙂

    • Thanks 🙂 I guess it’s just the gay scene. It can be fun, but sometimes you’re just not in the mood for sequins and drugs and Kylie Minogue! But it is hard to meet other lesbians without venturing there… There is a non-scene scene, but again, if you’re not into organic cotton, hiking and veganism… same story lol.

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