A diary of a depressed man: Day 7
Sitting in the seat where I last saw my stalker I struggle to relax. A girl walked up to me at a party and gave me a photo of myself. She returned later saying "its OK, I have more". I was disturbed. I have since seen and avoided her in the shadows in the drains and late at night in dodgy corners of festering Hoxton. I am surrounded by freaks and fiends, amazing people. I know I have good friends, family and people who love me. Big up yourself.
The Vibe Bar, offering free internet access is today's setting, the risk of seeing the freak is worth it. The sun breaks through the clouds and the haunting sounds of DJ Shadow Entroducing smother me reminding me why I hate this bar. Times change as quickly as people, I relish the beautiful moments which armour me against the inevitable shitness to follow. I know this is a chemical imbalance.
The medication has caused few obvious side effects, vomiting at Liverpool Street on Thursday morning in response to photo me machine number: PH 20777835 eating my £3.50, sweatier palms than usual and slight decrease of interest in the "before and after" pictures of breast enlargement operation adverts scattering the back pages of Ms London. Opticians this afternoon and a journey to the dentist on Wednesday.
Some cock just walked up to me and said "Tell me you're going to be finished soon!", keys jingle, doors slam, DJ Shadow skips back to track 1 twice as loud, I am sure there is a sign here somewhere.
#23 May 2005 | Comments (6)