Mistaken For Strangers – The National

daylight savings just got reverted and we’re only 7 hours behind singapore now; it’s like closure of sorts i guess.

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less with the emo, more with the happy, you once said.

i really don’t see how that is going to happen, but i miss you to bits.

Ice Age – Pete Yorn

this has lasted too long and it has to end sometime soon; i can’t keep going like this, it’s far too exhausting.

Fake Plastic Trees – Radiohead

it is the twenty-third of march and it just started snowing in london. aunty sue called twenty hours before, and all is salient, quiet, peaceful, a configuration of numbers.

there’s not that much to say these days because i’m practically exhausted from recounting the same tiresome story but all i can say and hope for, is that bad luck does eventually come to an end, and i will be able to commence work soon. i’ve come too far to falter, and failure isn’t an option.

nicole’s been asking me if there’s white sleet on the ground in front of me, and i tell her not yet, but soon, yes, soon it will.

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i need to stop writing about the same things, i need to stop sounding like a broken record, i need to look towards new chapters, new layers in life, i need to stop holding onto memories, to let them go, to move onto a new stage of life.

i need to remake myself as a human being because there is nothing worse than stale habits, afterimages resonating when a life has moved on. 

there are many things i need to do.

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a bird just flew into the tree outside staveley close; it hovered upright, inclined at an angle, fluttered its wings, and disappeared into the foliage. it sings to its children “mommy’s back” amidst a gently swirling cloud of snow flakes and it hasn’t appeared since. 

Blackout – British Sea Power

how does someone cry when he wins a bronze?

because coming in third, or second, isn’t enough.

ESPN

Canvey Island – British Sea Power

which is wonderfully apt, because i might just end up working at lake windermere at the lake district in cumbria.

geographical names fluff off like dandelion hairs in autumn, except it’s spring, and the natural order is the exact inverse, and all that’s happening is contrary to all i asked for.

but i can’t let anyone down again, i can’t.

Rose Parade – Elliot Smith

there’s something about this song that reminds me of you, and of a swing on a spring night in basel, outside my old apartment at 11 claramattweg, basel. i say this to myself to not forget, because memories are fleeting, and you usually forget about things you hold dear every once now and then.

i don’t think i’ll ever leave you behind though, not that you would know i am referring to you, and the opening chords of this song somehow just rends, breaks, tears.

(tears.)

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a monofaceted conversation in a multi-dimensional relationship between three people can be entertaining at times and you will laugh affectionately with b about a, at a side you always knew existed but you never really saw.

i wonder if anyone ever felt the same way about me.

Oh Lucifer – British Sea Power

you know you can’t possibly be more screwed when your teacher sends an email like this

“Dear Nicholas,

I am amazed by all this. I had tried to call the Hilton the other day, left a message. Also left messages with Paul Fletcher. I will try everything I can today and will let you know. I am so sorry about what is happening to you. I’ll try to help you as much as I can.

All best“

events are fucking goddamned cowards.

10.20 A.M. – Spoon

it’s a fairly beautiful day, it really is, for some reason or another.

Everything Hits At Once – Spoon

these are remarkably trying times, but i will somehow survive; i have to.

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leap years aren’t really my years and maybe that’s because i am a sprinter. but these days i’m not even that anymore and i don’t think i will ever quite reach my target of 11.5 secs in the century sprint. i went for my second training and the right achilles tendon tormented me throughout; sprinting isn’t sprinting if you can’t go all out, and John was telling me to increase my cadence because my stride frequency was 3 to calvin’s 4 which really meant that i was terribly slow and unexplosive. but cadence was never an issue with me; i used to have the fastest on the team and i wanted to scream at him that i couldn’t because it just instinctively kicks in and it’s not that i wouldn’t but i couldn’t and i couldn’t say that because it would sound like an excuse, and.

i never thought it would end like this, the death of a dream, and i used to think that i would be able to go out on my own terms, but it clearly isn’t the case anymore. i used to go for training with an exhuberance that i would improve all the time, but these days all i can do is to wake up in trepidation, and tell myself maybe things will be better.

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the uk home office rejected my work permit, and that opens up a whole new can of worms and the only thing i can say right now, is just fuck.