View Sidebar
The trouble with raising your hopes

The trouble with raising your hopes

is that sooner or later, they’ll get dashed. Which prompts me into relatively huge feelings of negativity, depression and general woefulness while staring at the sky. Not that I’m going to start writing poetry.

And while my friends (online and offline) can be there for me, and I’m usually there for them to hear their problems, even the best friend is going to get bloody fed up hearing the same old cycle of hope, dreams and dashed disappointment. Sometimes I do!

With you, Dear Reader ™, it’s different. You foolishly chose to read this blog, and I (sometimes foolishly) chose to utter my insane mutterings. If you don’t want to drown yourself in my trivia and minutae, and get back to cool links, from around the net, feel free to choose one of the other categories!

Of course I don’t want sympathy, I want a solution. Or new situations/data in order to give my brain something else to feed on. But not even the highly interconnected/incestual world of Cardiff can seem to help me down a new road, or to help me meet new people.

In this 24-hour period, I’ve had my dreams of a new love/life rather interestingly dashed in a “Well, he’s a 4, you’re a 9, but I’m going with the 4 anyway!”. I never get the prize, but I get a medal for taking part. Great. (Cue cliche about always being the bridesmaid, and never the bride)

And then later on, work raised my hopes in a very interesting and temporary that might mean moving somewhere else for a while. But I bet that won’t come off. Sods’ Law being what it is.

Tomorrow is definitely going to be one of the most nerve-wracking days of my life, and that won’t be fun either.

Oh, and to top it all off, it’s been raining non-stop all day. I’ve been complaining about the endless sunshine but when it chucks it down endlessly all day, give me the eternal sunshine any day. A spotless mind would be bloody handy too.

As a soul singer once sung, “life. Oh life. ohhhh life. doo do doo do.”

1 Comment

  • Don't worry – new and improved dunderdicks
    always come along just to f**k with you…!

    I think it's some sort of law of physics or something.

Leave a reply

%d bloggers like this: