Single Man Blues

No matter which way I do the calculations they end up the same.

So I am stuck. My tentacle chopped.

But this is what it is like being single.

That’s a nice image or a good one maybe not a nice one and it doesn’t really help much.

Even if I could go to the corner shop and get tentacle glue what good would it do.

btw. I am not some sort of octopus grabbing available single people with my tentacles. But I would like to do some dating. Which seems hard work and for what? the promise of more dates? I have never dated.

I am short of a good catch. I am not a catch. I am not even a fish. I am a log floating on the surface rolling this way and that, just waiting for a lumberjack! ūüėČ

Or the mill where I will be ground into sawdust. Some future.

Seriously why do people date? You are likely to be attracted to most people well that’s how it is for me. Why do I need to date to tell me that? OK, I like some people more but they will still be unobtainable.

Online dating. Not free. Miles away. Old photo. Please.

Chat? Please. Charity fucks. Please. Is there even such a thing? This is not Hollywood.

I was happy listening to Blur when the expectation that I would write something came to me. I like Blur. Life seems understandable through the Blur lens. Unaccountable how dating works. I think I am perhaps too old for dating ¬†and don’t have the money for it anyway.

Why date someone you already know you like? Maybe I am just antisocial and lacking friends. What did the begonia say to the chav? ‘Say it with flowers’ ha ha. I like being grumpy and listening to Blur. Perhaps I could use that?

I think I have missed out of some dating skills that perhaps I don’t need anyway. Easter is coming. What is the rules about Easter and dating? Is such a formula in existence? Is it buried in Debretts for Men or Hai-Karate For Men? Is the precious egg a nice pregnant metaphor filled with future promise? See even I¬†get sucked into the barminess of metaphor and innuendo when all I want is a toasted¬†bacon and cheese panini and a half decent cup¬†of coffee to go with it.

I watched ‘Im So Excited’ yesterday and was fully immersed when I¬†caught a feeling of nostalgia and annoyance that the audience should be treated so foolishly. Still it was better than the football replays.

Is there a reason why I am still single despite doing all the things expected of one. I do my own laundry. Shopping, washing, cooking and cleaning but can’t escape the feeling that women hate me for some reason.

I say please and thank you.You are everything to me. Every word, movement, syllable, breath, glance, decision, feeling, thought and nuance I appreciate. So why do I get the feeling I am hated universally.

Is it that I don’t get it? I hate that feeling like when you are the only one who doesn’t get it. I used to think I did not get it then I realised it was missing out on something all my life. Exciting people and a death wish got me to Paris, France. In the words of Blur ‘There’s wisdom there you’re sure’ Coffee and TV, Coffee and TV.

I don’t wish to plan my future on some old deathwish that I seem to have exorcised. I am not doing to to impress my sister, my dad, my step brothers in law et al or my neighbours or only friend. I am doing it for me. If it was anything else I would be less depressed. It whatever it is could just be an email away.

There is someone I would like to contact. I have tried once. Maybe I could try again. I think I just might. See writing can be exploratory and useful too.

Are my desperations showing? Tits are birds, Some birds are tits others are not. Some birds have tits. Everyone shits or tom-tits. I am a tit and proud of it. Get down on it. This is rap. I’m doing it literally doing it! How will I know it’s going my way? When she says she wants to meet me? That seems like a good start or maybe too pushy. Face it I have nothing to say except the sort of bollocks I write here. I have 264 followers. But not one girlfriend. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Tonight I watched University Challenge. Isn’t it great being English?

Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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