You can only hold onto a misguided notion for so long.

It’s never a pleasant experience when you finally realise what a fool you’ve been, or just what a gigantic, blind, shit for brains buffoon you really are. They say that the truth always hurts? Too fucking right it does, it hurts like Hell, and I wish I could find some way to snap myself out of it.

Unpleasant as this all is; a sudden moment of clarity really does act like a shock to the system, a real kick up the arse, a size twelve boot to the bollocks.

When you’re in love with someone, I mean really in love with them, this situation becomes unbearable. No matter how much of a fool you know you’re acting, it’s impossible to forget the one you want more than anything else in the world. Perhaps the easiest thing is to laugh it all off, put it down to experience and fuck the fuck off permanently out of her life for good?

No one likes to be made a fool of, even if the situation is of their own making. The temptation is to keep out-of-the-way; maintain a low profile until the dust has cleared, however long that takes. It’s surprising how a sudden flash of enlightenment, overdue from long ago, can help to paint a different picture. Sometimes, and however hard it might seem, you simply have to get over yourself. You can’t always change things and you definitely can’t change the way people feel. Sooner or later you have to let people go their own way, for better or worse. They either want you in their life or they don’t; it’s as simple as that really. If they don’t, just tell yourself that they’re happy, (even if you suspect that they’re not), and try to be happy for them. Oh, and try not to listen to, or be taken in by gossip. Even if it’s true, it’s certainly none of your fucking business. You no longer fucking exist in their mind…..

Let it go…..

Jealousy and bitterness are two very easy paths to end up on, both are bound to end in the same place, a broken heart. At some point you have to wonder why the fuck are you constantly putting yourself through such torture? For what reason? No fucking reason at all. Think about all the wasted hours, days, weeks and months spent holding onto something that never really existed. Only in your mind, no one elses.

Writing is a release. It doesn’t really matter if anyone actually reads this stream of misguided piss; although I apologise to those of you that do; but the simple fact is that you can’t hold these feelings in your battered fucking mind forever. I suppose like your typical English, repressed male, I have a tendency to bottle things up, however, to be honest, that ‘stiff upper lip’ bullshit wankathon can only take you so far. Hence, the recent outpouring of my broken heart on this ere’ blog. Fear not though dear reader, I might return to normal one day; I might return to writing about normal things, such as porn, excessive masturbation, perhaps about how David Cameron can shove his ‘Big Society’ up his big opening and cheese. Perhaps all at the same time.

Of course, if all else fails, (which I can assure you it will), I’ll simply remind myself  about what a complete idiot I’ve been and vow never to make the same mistake again.

Not until the next time anyway…….

My Personal Hell – Valentines Day

All the world loves lovers; all the world loves people in love

I woke this morning with a profound sense of relief. Not for the ‘groundhog day’ existence that I appear to be living at the moment, no, this was far more important – Valentines Day has packed up and fucked off for another year.

For the serial singleton this can be the worst of days. Not only do you have to listen and watch couples acting out some semblance of happiness, (this can be a torture in itself), but you’re also forced to painfully examine the complete balls-up that is otherwise known as your personal life.

Of course, if you’re happily single, then fuck it! It’s a bit like having a get out of prison free card for the day, as well as a much larger bank balance. Things become more complicated when you love someone, but for whatever reason haven’t got around to telling them; perhaps it slipped your mind, or you were too busy watching porn, whatever…. In this situation the anonymous card comes into effect.

I once received a card in the post where the person had spelt my name and address out by using bits of cut up newspaper. This left me in two minds – to begin with, the stalker alarm started to ring; however, even more worryingly, I was fucking impressed by the effort involved, after all, for those who know me, I have got a very long name. Lesson: if you’re going to be an odd ball, at least raise your game – put the work in. What makes this worse is that I recognised the typeface from the various newspapers the she, or he, had used. This probably says more about me than you could possibly ever need to know.

Of all the unhappy people on St Shit’s Day, there are one group of individuals who have my complete sympathy. For those people who find themselves in love with someone already taken this must be akin to going to a twenty-four hour film of your own shit life, in surround sound, and with no popcorn. In this situation one must try to avoid contact with anybody remotely resembling a human being for at least twenty-four hours. This includes all forms of media; do not under any circumstances choose this day of all days to listen to any song that in any way reminds you of anyone that you have even the slightest feelings for. Of course this depends on the lyrical content of the song; for example, if it involves killing, maiming or even just a huge dose of extreme bitterness, you should still keep well away.

I suppose life should be full of little romantic gestures and not saved up for one day of the year when retailers and the media offer up a huge fuck you and forcibly ransack your dignity and your money. Although, who am I to talk about this? A failed career as a hopeless romantic provides me with very little credibility on the subject of love. Still, thank fuck it’s over with for another year and I can return once again to my slightly happier version of miserable.