friday/saturday
argh, bad day. woke up with hang-over and massive headache from too many beers last night. this headache changed seamlessly into one caused by the oppressive heat and humidity. it started to rain in the afternoon but as usual the air didn't really cool off enough. gym, supermarket, washing, work, dinner and the day was over.
yesterday night, b. (who is a waiter at the café) walked up to me and took the seat next to me. he had the day-shift and then stayed after work to chat and hang out. he had quite a lot of drinks and his movements started to become a little uncontrolled and awkward. he's not very tall, and he's the embodiment of any stereotype there is about sport-students. it's almost funny to see how he is proclaiming and enacting his weirdly strained and compulsory heterosexuality : every comment about a female person contains some supposedly funny ambiguous statement and he's living in a world spanned between "men's heath" on the one hand and "gq" on the other.
anyway, so he sat next to me, put his short arm around my broad shoulder and his eyes were half closed when he saidlulledshouted:
"phil!"
"yep."
"phil! you know what, actually you're a guy that one should hate!"
"is that so?" i asked him and jodie, who was standing behind the counter and was sensing a good show, made herself comfortable in front of us. i motioned her to help me, but she just smiled amusedly.
"yes, you're one of those guys one should hate. because... because you are good-looking - i find you good-looking, i might say this, yes? and my ex-girlfriend thought so too, so, well, anyway, yes, and you're an inlectectual... you're an inlect... you're intelligent..."
"not, really!" i protested
"you *are* intelligent!" he insisted "you're writing a book!" 'so does one third of the earth's population' i wanted to argue but realized that it wouldn't be much use.
"plus!" b. continued "plus you're talented and musically gifted!"
"thank you. i don't agree on all points, but thanks nonetheless.."
"you know, if i was a woman i wanted to be with you."
at this point jodie's drink came out of her nose.
"i mean, if i was a woman. and i'm certain that if jodie was a woman, no, if you were a woman she would want to be with you, too"
"most certainly!" jodie shouted.
b. raised his glass:
"a toast! to gorgeous victoria's perfect ass!"
from yesterday night:
friday evening. sitting at the café, it's pretty crowded, people in pairs, like animals waiting to board the ark, it's warm and sunny and lonely. there's paper strewn around me with chunks of lyrics but it's no day to write, really. funny, how there are writing and nonwriting days. jodie is sweating and gorgeous victoria is fanning her face with a coaster, the urgent word-file is still blank, i can't think of anything else but that i want to be with you, that i want to be where you are now, that... but it's no use, really.
later
i managed to alienate yet another person. hooray! uh, i'm drunk. so, remember when i reported about the quarrel concerning staying overnight? as you might remember, dear reader, i did not stay but rode home to sleep in my own bed. two days later i wrote a mail, explaining why i didn't stay. it went kind of like that:
hey,
i didn't feel very well last time, which you may have noticed. on the one hand because i felt a flu coming on, on the other because, when the fireworks started [there was a huge firework that night] i suddenly had to think of a person to whom my heart is still attached. and each of the explosions and every colorful flower that the light painted into the sky forced memories into my head that made me sad.
you wanted to hear a good reason why i did not want to stay with you that night. but there is no good reason. at least no reason that would be understandable objectively. i felt like it would have been the wrong thing to do. it would not have been honest. in fact, i did not stay *because* i like you : i didn't want to lie next to you and think of somebody else all the time. i know you think that i'm a stupid ass and i'm sorry if my behavior is hurting you. this is not what i intended.
after that, i didn't hear a word. no answer. no reaction. i wrote a couple of text messages since then: no answer. sigh. it's all soooooo tiresome. what am i doing to people? i was simply being honest. was this wrong? should i have stayed and pretended that i felt differently? i wrote another text message tonight: nothing.
