People are... SUCH a mystery...

I am on the cusp of falling really low again.

I am so, SO exhausted. Work => sleep => worry about money => feel lonely => crack a dumb joke to hide it all => rinse => repeat. As a work flow, it's becoming really tiring.

I enjoy the trappings of modern life. Music, film, internet, gadgets. Yes, I want an iPad. I've wanted a new laptop for a while but hate my work desktop so much I will never buy another PC if I can help it. The limited word processing on the iPad will do me perfectly until I'm home and can write properly. It fits the bill of what I want, and will cost me about half the price of a Mac laptop. Swish.

But do I REALLY need it? Not really. It's just another thing to keep me working, scrabbling for money and never wondering what really matters. How can any of us ever truly finish putting ourselves together - let alone reassembling ourselves after a trauma - when modern society is designed to keep us fighting just to survive.

It feels really hippy dippy to say it but this morning I awoke and wanted something new. I want a tiny little cottage somewhere that is mine and mine alone. Hell, give me some land and sometime and I'll have a damn good go at building one myself. I LOVED building the shop interior and many of those skills can be scaled UP.

Take me off the national grid. I'll use dynamo powered small appliances, solar power - steam power if I have to. Give me space to grow my own crops, raise my own animals, keep my own pets. Give me a computer for entertainment and I'll concede to pay some corporate ass for a phone line. After that, be gone.

I want to opt out of this rat-race. It's the clarion call of the Sixties and Seventies counter-culture movement in my head.

If I have to live alone, I want to be truly alone. I want to make a fort in the woods and live or die at my behest, not the shrill ding of the almighty dollar and it's muted, brain-dead sterling cousin.

Then if anyone wants to be my friend - and not just feed off me and lie to me and make demands of me and resent me when I make demands of them, taking my love without giving back and hate me when I can't be that person any more - then they can come to me. They can walk up the path and stay for a while. For a short while or a long while.*

Human social interaction is addictive. I like it. I have an addictive personality. And to cure yourself of an addiction sometimes you have to go completely cold turkey.

* = yes this sounds a little resentful and mental, hence why I have fudged the punctuation. Because - fuck it - pain isn't organised and carefully worded. Except when you are writing a pretentious and self indulgent blog entry.