How frustrated I am at myself for:
a) Eating loads of crap
b) Being a lazy sod
c) Not writing
d) My infernal weakness for the married man
e) Taking on projects for others when I should concentrate on my own stuff

Serious extended family issues, which I can’t discuss further.
Suffice to say that Tolstoy was right that every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

I’m so bored, and unfulfilled. I don’t know where I’m going.

I have too much time in which to think about stuff now.

I’m remembering lots of my dreams now; sometimes I “remember” something then realise that it happened in a dream, not in reality.

I think too much.

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Written by PJ | Posted in writing

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