Sinister: fuck this shit, I will confess to you

[Ben Apps]

Hi Sinister,

I'm not at work. I should be. I'm not sick. Not physically anyway. It's just 
after 12 noon on a Friday and in the last 24 hours I've made some decisions. 
My glorified switchboard job which I reverted to after a period of temporary 
promotion is crippling me with it's banality. I can't face another six 
months of saying "DTI Enquiries, Ben speaking, How can I help?" only for 
some rude twat to treat me like something that got stuck on their shoe.

*I think I'd better make a move*

I wasn't going out yesterday. Economising blah blah....but I changed my mind 
and after work wended my way along the embankment from Westminster to 
Blackfriars bridge. What am I doing here, in this city? It's not my home. I 
turned left up Ludgate and Farringdon Road, avowed to get hammered out of my 
skull, maybe dance like a maniac and forget it all for a while: my job, my 
dreams, my girl so far away :( I hadn't done this, walking, thinking, 
sulking for a while. Not since I quit college and traipsed about Lancaster 
waiting for nothing. I'm sure it's not 'healthy', but I think I enjoy it in 
some twisted way.

Got to the Old Cock Tavern. No one else is coming. My fault for changing my 
mind at the last moment. I'm going to give notice on my room, and see if 
Simmy will let me stay on his sofa again, like when I first moved here. I've 
either got to do this as soon as possible or not atall. It's not for me to 
compromise. I don't belong here, I didn't belong *there*, maybe I'll belong 
*over there*. I know I belong with Rachel. Or at least more than anyone else 
I could ever imagine.

The paper is red. Read. Flyers are distributed. I'll leave it till ten past. 
Don't want to be the first one there. Oh. I am! Simon and Garfunkel, then 
Seeing other People. But no-one else is here. Feeling calmer now. Less rage, 
the music helps. Ian says "Hi". Hi Ian!

So no more return trips to CalifornIA. When I go I go for good. When? Two 
months? Longer? As soon as the VISA comes through, but I'm not pissing 
about. Shit, I'm smoking. How did that happen? No light, and I'm not asking, 
so it becomes a chain. God, my throat wrecks now.

*FUCK THIS SHIT* Gorgeous. Soaring harmonica. I want to jump aboard and let 
it carry me away.

*My Wandering Days are Over* Not yet. But soon. Six months on.....left the 
town....feeling melancholy. Heh. Think I'll go home. Hold on, familiar 
faces. Some conversation. This is novel. But the last tube is iminent. We'll 
have to cut our pyromania short.

At home Rachel is online. Seems so close. This technology is teasing. We lay 
our emoticons bare. "I'll call you". She likes the plan. What did I do to 
deserve her? I won't let this slip away.

Wake at 9:30. Already late for work. Can't face it. "Team Lunch" this 
afternoon, let's slag of management and grumble about our lives, but not do 
a thing to change it. Well I am.

self indulgent - check
bedroom angst - check
too long - check
top ten list - damn!

Thanks for letting me get it out.

see you tomorrow maybe - I'll bring a ball.
see YOU forever someday.

Ben
x


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