Himself.
Yeah we all remember who.
Haven’t really mentioned what became of eeeeeeeeertyuiop[
(sorry, just wanted to clean my keys with my new key-cleaning-wipes)
teacher, and the few pints and the food I laboured over for three hours.
So I invited him with about three weeks notice . We bade each other no “howareyanow”s or “well!” or “is it yourself is it?” when traipsing down the coridoors, nor a “thank you for tiring yourself out with all your hard work and cigarette smoking Sensei. ” Sweet nada.
Friday arrives, over he trots. He makes an “x” with his arms , says “not coming” and wanders off. You can be sure that you ain’t coming dahling. (I realise that it’s spelt with a “u” but i like to feel like i’m not swimming in the dank sodden sewers of obscenity ALL the time)
I’m not quite certain but i don’t think he even said sorry.
I should’ve given him lines. “Where are your manners?” ten thousand times for Monday.
But I didn’t.
I picked up my worn and bruised ego, and wondered what to do with it.
i put it in my pocket for safe-keeping.
the dinner went ahead.
it was the dullest evening I’ve ever spent.
three hours of school chat.
there’s eight hundred and fifty odd students in the school and i think a comment was passed on all of them.
And for the timeth time i don’t even want to know, I watched two hearts find each other, aross the dinner table.
They went home together.
And i did my dishes.
best to get them out of the way for the morning.

When I was lying in bed last night fretting over the torrential rain and booming thunder, concerned that there’s no where in my apartment far from a window, I ought have been thinking about the North koreans and their decision to go “testing”nuclear weaponery 600 miles out in the japanese sea.
What can you say.
Yet another wonderful example of the good men do when they’re in power. And don’t anyone come back with a “What about maggie Thatcher?”. there’s a definate ratio of about 10,000 idiotic male leaders to each Maggie Thatcher.
What was that quote about when women are depressed they either eat or go shopping, when men get depressed they invade other countries.
Bless.
Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours.

Anyway, the mood os quare and mixed up at the moment. There’s now just a pair of shirts hanging in the wardrobe that once wouldn’t close; the books on my shelves are out of date Lonely Planets and an encyclopedia on japanese Pop culture; and there’s twenty-six days to get my head around the fact that this will never be again.
Fucking life.
Makes me want to shed a tear.