most days at my stop,coming home,a stickie-whinge,sorry.

stickie STILL walks by.

eyes straight ahead,
and not a word.

it's like,
well,
okay,
we WERE speaking,
but now we're not.

ho'hum.

i shall always wonder what she was thinking.
and maybe she's not thinking anything.
maybe it's all just "in my head".
maybe she sussed me out,
and thought "up your's mate.forget it.it aint gonna happen "
although "sussed out",
is not how i mean it.

i mean,
yes,
i would like to have got friendly with her,
and who knows?
but i'm not some 25yr old pissing testosterone from every pore.
y'know?

some conversation would have been nice.

and i still want to checkout the asda at corby.
wouyld rather go with somebody who knows the lie of the land so to speak.
i can hardly ask her.
and if i did,
she'd probably mis-interpret it.

i just can't help wondering that's all.

and i always had this contradiction going on i my head.
would like to know her,
maybe.
but it might not be pretty.
maybe.
like,
what might i be getting myself into?

do i REALLY want to get into somebody else's life?
and all that that entails?

it amazes me that she's still walking by.

i HAVE to use THAT bus-stop.
there isn't another one.

life's dilemmas eh?

and?

suggestions on a postcard please.

there's no fool like an OLD fool eh?

but i'm getting there.

i DO wish that she'd go walk her dogs some place else though.

she MUST have SOME thoughts,
good,
bad,
or indifferent.

about it.

and then again,
why?
maybe.

what a strange sort i must seem.


whatever.

every episode,
is just a phase,
another "mood-swing".

from the horny thoughts,
to complete indifference,
interspersed with bouts of guilt,genuine sorrow, and remorse.
talk about pre-menstrual women.

it's all just part of the process of letting go i suppose.

onwards and downwards.
into the abyss,
go i.