Claustrophobia...

I'm not sure if you can feel claustrophobic about a lifestyle, but I think I'm starting to....

My week is essentially the same every week. I don't really meet anyone new. My room is tiny. Most of my real-life friends are currently in various parts of the country that aren't here, so in those evening when I don't have band practise, I have nothing to do but sit in front of the computer. I have no money, and no higher-paying jobs seem forthcoming.

The social scene here is static, effectively. I'd like to move to London to get a better job and better scene, but I have no money, so I can't even visit.

I am starting to really feel constricted.

I am going to start looking at jobs and accomodation in London.

Anonymity abandoned.

This is my journal, so I feel it only proper that people know who I am. (Those of you who already do, can you keep it down in the front row please....).

This is me:

Me
Me again.

My real name is Michael, and I am 24.

Never let it be said that I hide behind my internet persona.

There. Another mask discarded. Only several more to go...

I'm a trend-setter, it seems...

For it appears that mapp has engaged in that most sincere form of flattery....

The power of music

I should really be more careful. I went out tonight to an Open Mic acoustic guitar night at a local club. Unfortunately, I went on my own was a mistake. See, I'm fairly vulnerable to good music, whatever emotion it is trying to evoke, and the musicians playing were good. But they were all playing melancholy pieces. And since I had no-one to talk to, my full attention (or at least as much as I ever have on one thing at a time) was on the music.

Suddenly, the weight of my woes was back on my shoulders. I decided to leave before I did something silly like bursting into tears in the dark corner I was sitting in.

Pity, because the music was very good. It was just inappropriately timed, as I still have a few old wounds that are prone to being reopened.

*sigh*

More cheerful posts again tomorrow, I promise.