poor little rich boy, all the couples have gone
I haven't written in such a long time. I'm starting again in a shaky, wobbly unsure way. This will hopefully lead to confidence and greatness.
It's not only the blogging that's gone down the pan this summer. I feel pretty much inept at communicating in any way anymore. The ability to prase a text message or an email in such a way as to not appear rude seems to have completely eluded me. I don't know how to make small talk anymore. I don't know how to talk to anyone at work. I probably come accross and wierd and young and completely uncaring, especially in relation to the whole Tim's probably schizophrenic wife situation. I'm rubbish on the phone. When and if I ever get round to it, I don't have any sentances.
Does no one else realise I'm this bad?
I can be better.
Or has it been too long to recover?
1 comment:
I'm not sure what my first language is but I discovered this summer that it isn't English.
The day before yesterday I walked past the old tatty barber's on my street and it was deserted except for an old man (the barber?) sitting on one of the chairs in front of a mirror playing the acoustic guitar all alone. If I had a blog I would have written about him.
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