Love Songs

Sometimes I think I'm too light on people. I see all the music and art and books and happiness that I want to see, and forget that actually there's a grimy side that we all encounter but push under the carpet. I've hit the stage where I'm freewheeling - day to day, I'm fine, but far off plans are distant and a bit scary. 

Love songs frighten me. Life plans terrify me. I see a nice pot plant or drum machine or saucepan and I think 'Oh, that's nice, I'll have that in my flat when I finish my degree' but then I think, will I have a job? disposable income? have to share the flat with another single friend because I still can't keep anyone close? will I still want to change everything around me every few weeks? will I still cook? who will I cook for? will that saucepan sit in a cupboard, or even worse, on the kitchentop, a testiment to my adult disillusionment for all to see? will I write? will I sell out? will I be happy?

I think part of the problem is that I get on well by myself - a little too well. I forget to need anybody else, so everyone else is actually a bit of a nuisance. I let few people in. I think that's why I'm so pissed about this latest - thing. Because I geared myself up to give another person  a chance that, inevitably, they proved they didn't deserve. I worry I've got only so many shots before I lose all my childish wonder and become very bitter and solemn.

I can't wait for what comes next, and I know I'll do it my way, but I hope the things I cant control, like the people I meet, and the twists of fate that define life, are kind to me.