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All roads lead to me.

This line is disparaging: “When we fall in love, we’re just falling in love with ourselves”.

But there’s a tinge of truth to it.

It’s hard to filter through how someone feels about you, and how much of that appeals to you more than what you feel for them.

Funnily enough, we might just want to hold on to someone for the sake of how they make us feel — and not so much about how much we might possibly feel for them.

It makes you wonder if relationships are ever truly mutual — whether or not you’re getting what you’re giving…and whether or not you’re getting what you’re expecting.

Something real comes from the act of compromising your expectations. Readjustments. Spine reticulations.

I’m not saying that lowering your expectations will solve all your problems; you should never settle for less. But there’s no harm in settling for something different.

We’ve beat the beaten track into submission.

Maybe it’s time for a little air.

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The Bend.

Belated Deepavali firecrackers are erupting on my street.

They’re really annoying.

I hope they don’t affect my cars.

Uno’s already growing slightly cuckoo from the noise.

For the first time in weeks, I’m actually feeling quite balanced.

(Or just a bit happier.)

I’m a chippy bastard.

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I’m so tired.

So I’m simply not going to be around anymore.

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My Paper Ring.

In my heart
My paper ring
You put it on
And I am king

In my mind
My paper ring
You put it on
And I am king.

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Impulse shopping!

I’ve been searching for a toy piano these last few weeks. Since my music is rubbish enough as it is, the sounds of chiming and tinkling can only add to its…eclecticity.

To be honest with you, I’ve spent money on a cheap-o electronic keyboard set that’s not even in tune.One bit of madness is the little girl on the box. Buying the thing and then carrying it in such a way that nobody noticed her was a challenge.

Another purchase I made in my quest for all things trebleish and chimy was a baby xylophone set from Toys ‘r Us.

It works wonders. And it’s quite addictive.

So yes. Let the hammer fall. My next batch of songs should be fun.

Just to let the general populace of the Internet know, I might be performing at Cloth and Clef on the 13th September, as well as at The Podium on the 20th September. Details will follow.

It’s been almost a year since I last performed (and overstayed my welcome onstage), so let’s hope that a year’s worth of meandering has made me all that little bit more prepared.

Salut.

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Rehab for pansies.

I tend to think of myself as an impractical realist. My ambitions are never lofty, yet they seem to be incredibly hard to achieve. It gets even worse when someone gets dragged along for the ride; a journey with me seems like a meandering road of pointlessness.

Or at least that’s what they’d like me to think.

It’s been a while.

I’ve somehow avoided the need to partake in self-destructive behaviour. Since I’ve been (somewhat) well-behaved these last few weeks, I can say that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, although it’s awfully dim.

Things can’t get any worse. Things can’t get any better.

There’s not much of a life to live when you’re walking around in a perpetual sea of limbo everyday.

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25.

A quarter of a century.

It sounds like a long time, and, it just might be. A lot of things have happened over the last twenty five years that I’ve played absolutely no part in.

In hindsight, I’ve lived my life on the periphery (or that’s what I’d like to think). I don’t really see why I’d have to make my way through to some obscure inner circle, or why I’d need to be the center of attention.

I believe that being the star attraction in my own life makes up for the lack of me being the star attraction in yours.

Wishful thinking? Maybe. At least it gives me some form of solace.

So, in staying true to myself, I’m going to make a toast to my cause and wish another fruitful twenty five years to come pass me by.

Salut.

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