Coming back to myself

Listening to a football match on the radio is the most hilarious experience. Like watching a party through a window pane, but in reverse. I love seeing flailing arms, drunken stumbling, writhing around to inaudible music. It makes me feel outside of the world, but even when I'm in the party group I feel like that. Football matches are great to watch, but listening to them forces you to imagine the action.

Sometimes I wish I could hear the music, or see the action.

Being single again is supposed to be a good time to regroup, to reorganize your life. I don't think that's necessarily true, but it is certainly true for me at the moment. Who am I? Why do I need a person to help me enjoy life? How can I give more to my friends and to myself?

And then I'm back on the other side of the window pane, yearning to belong to a silent orgy of forgetfulness and pointlessness. I find it ever so difficult to relax, don't you know?