Strangers.

We all start as strangers, so how do we choose which ones we want to turn into friends? Or even acquaintances?

Ive been thinking of this a lot lately, as often in my life I notice somone, who starts as a stranger, but I want to make them a friend, or at least try. But me in my awkward approach, this seems to be impossible. For example, there is currently in my life a guy, a guy who I have notices since September 2013, who seems lovely. A part of me inside is dying because I just want to talk to him, see if he actually IS nice. But how? How does this stranger-friendship concept happen.
Now I know there is a 100% chance he doesnt want anything to do with me, but how would he know if he didnt even try either? Or maybe hes sat thinking the exact same as me... wondering how.

Now ive met a complete stranger before, talked to them online for a few months, then met and had a lovely day together. So this kept me thinking how is this guy different? Well maybe because I see him around a lot, we go to the same educational building, and the feeling of rejection or the other person being horrible could lead to things becoming awkward and unpleseant.

But I cant help that whenever I see said strangers face, I smile and get incredibly nervous, and when I dont see his face, I wish I could.

I wish this stranger to friend idea was so much easier, that being said im the one sat here blogging about it and not actually thinking of a fool proof plan to pull an Augustus Waters and bump into him somehow.

-lesigh.

Work

We probably spend around 90% of our lives working, working so we can earn money to do the things we love. But if we're working so much when do we get to enjoy those little things?

I appreciate my days off so much more now, than I did before. For example, I have worked 4 days this week, given myself friday off, and back to work saturday. So how am I going to spend my glorified Friday? Get a tattoo, and get drunk. I think this is an acceptable way. But the problem is, I spend all my days working, to find at the end of the month all my pay gone. Where does it go? Where did all my hard work go? So im stuck in this cycle. Work. Get paid. Money gone. Work. Get paid. Money gone.

Now its not that I dislike working, I love the feeling of clocking out, or when youre on a shift some pretty amazing people, or when you're in a good mood and your shift just flies by. But money is such a funny thing. We never have enough, we constantly spend it, and we always want more. We were put on this world, forced to work, and learn how meaningless money is. Yet everything that we love in life will require money.

So what about those that dont work. How do you spend your weekends? Where does your unlimited amount of money come from? Are you the people im serving during my weekend? This has always been one of my lifes biggest puzzles, and yet some of the people that dont work are just so content with it. Never wanting a job. Never wanting that satisfying feeling when you’ve hanged a section perfectly, that an hour ago looked like a tornado had hit.
But maybe their okay with that, and I cant tell them their wrong, but I can say from observation some people run at the first sight of hard work. And to those people I feel sorry for you. Because one day you're going to be thrown into a ocean, as a little fish, while all us sharks are swimming round, and you're going to have a shock.

Will you ever forgive me?

Im sorry blog, i truly am, how i have been neglecting you. But you are not alone, i dont seem to write in my diary anymore either.
So i know you my be wondering 'well what the fuck have you been doing then?'
Reading.
Drinking.
Sleeping.
Repeat.

But i had to return to wish you a happy birthday, my blog one year old. I am sorry for abandoning you and i cant promise that i will return to the old writting days, but i hope in time that you will forgive me. Because i can honestly say i miss you. I miss this. I miss writing, and i realised this when i made a blog purley for book reviews. Promise im not cheating on you old friend, oh how ever could i do that? I couldnt.
Ive just found a love for books, one that i never knew i had but when my friends decided they didnt like me anymore, vodka and books became my best friends. And honestly? I dont think id have it any other way.

My love for music is still going strong, infact i think i have slight post gig depression despite there only being a month apart between my last and next. I feel more lonely than ever and my sadness is worse. Infact i went to a doctor after recent thoughts and almost not making it to 2014. Where i got refereed to a place, but i burnt the letter they sent me because i physically couldn't call them. Im a coward.


I have a visa meaning i can leave the country which is good news, never knew how hard it was though to sort out, like i actually had to make a phone call. -gasps- who does that?!

And i spend all weekend working, and i wouldnt have it any other way.

So in a way i started this blog to try to be different, not boring, now im wondering, did it work? My weeks are average, i rarely do anything different, i have no friends and my weekends are spent working.


Did we fail blog? I hope not, because we're not over yet.


Promise.