I'll never be normal but I'll rarely be dull.

I don't pretend to understand most things in life, though that doesn't mean there's an end point that I'm missing. I find the trick is to keep breathing and carry on crashing through regardless

There are times I wake up excited as a child rushing out to play in the snow, every minute of this consciousness a thrill and a bonus. And many times the weight of infinite time and this infinitesimal mockery of existence threaten to crush me and the world can fuck right off. Not before it brings me a sandwich of course.
I've always thought of every book on my shelves as a portal to another world, reaching back, forwards, whole worlds of ideas and experiences. My living room is indeed multidimensional. As a child I used to take my books to bed for comfort, eschewing the supposed pleasures of stuffed animals and dolls (luckily nowadays I'm more receptive to humanoid distractions in my bed.) You know that episode of the twilight zone where the bloke survives the nuclear strike beside a library, but then his glasses break? Haunted me for decades, that one. To say nothing of the giant killer pandas. (Ok I may be conflating a number of programmes here.)

By the way, I have no idea what I want. I don't even know if I could truly have a partner where I didn't feel an essential part of me wasn't lost - or maybe that's just that old fear of commitment... If I end up an old woman living on my own, I guess I'd be alright with that. I'd just put my feet up in front of the open fire, pour myself a shockingly large glass of brandy to the strains of Hank Williams, light my pipe (no I don't know where I suddenly acquired that) break open a hitherto unread Gore Vidal or Dostoyevsky (just picking em at random now you understand) and let my mind go free.

Sometimes I hate people. The weakness, selfishness and cruelty that seem to be inherent in human beings. Sometimes I'm so in love with humanity - it's goodness, it's madness, it's flaws so endearingly absurd they break your heart.

I have no tolerance for those who give a toss for celebrity, and 'Big Brother' or Heat magazine could drive me to kill- but then i went to see 'Sex and the City' tonight and rather unexpectedly cried all the way through. I feel kinda dirty after that. But told you I was contrary.

I'm getting that a lot of people on here are seriously fucked up. As in life though I guess. If you even BEGIN to think this might be you...