tales from an ordinary world

2000-10-31b

I'm withdrawing into myself again. Not talking much, feeling foolish whenever I try and put forward my thoughts on something, and an irresistable urge to just go wandering rather than doing anything else. I didn't want to go straight home, I walked down to St Kilda for a while, ate at the curiously named Thai Panic Cafe and then just walked for a while. There was nothing else I could do, nothing else I could concentrate on.

Something has to change. Something's not right here. I wish it was like a sitcom, like the first episode of The Good Life that was on TV yet again last night, where the guy sits down "for a few hours", writes lots of random stuff on pieces of paper, and suddenly it all becomes clear. What he has to do. What It is.