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Ok I quit. This guy is hopeless. We`ve been best friends (kind of) for about a year now, but lately... I just don`t know. I always knew there were some things we differed about... but REALLY!! This is bloody too much! I cannot tell him what to do with his life that`s for sure, and I really hate to criticize anyone, but I simply cannot continue to tell my secrets and disclose my heart to someone who does certain things. I simply cannot. If that means I`m a prude and a bitch, then so does it. I don`t care. I cannot be honest with someone if I don`t respect that person, and what I`ve been discovering about him lately has not earned my respect for sure.



As such, even though my heart is bleeding and I know I am going to miss him like hell, I`ve simply got to cut our ties now. I`ll do it slowly, over time, so he won`t notice... it won`t be apparent at all, but in days, weeks, months, our communication will get fainter and fainter, and then I`ll just stop sending him messages and chatting to him online, and just let him go...



Damn, it will hurt though.



I hope I won`t backtrack.



Goddamit.

The intolerable heat pressed down on me, indomitable and relentless as a thundering incessant invasion, pressing me into the thin hard mattress. Stiffling all thought. The walls seemed to close in about me, as I shut my eyes tight and tried not to think. Not to be awake. Not to hear. Impossible. A siren intruded into my brain. Fighting. Raised voices. Harsh laughter.



Opening eyes cracked and sore with weeping, I trembled and padded barefoot to the patched up window, opened the dirty curtains stealthily, and peeked out slowly. A big black boor and two other men fighting in the street, a pimp and his girls laughing at the bar in front of my hotel. A police car coming over slowly.



Nothing new. I sighed, went to my tiny bathroom and splashed cool water over my face. Nothing to drink but filthy tap water. Likely that was causing the clenching in my stomach too. Nothing for it but to go back to bed. I stiffled a scream as someone pounded on the door to my room, strange noises... then nothing.



3am...



I pushed the leathery pillow to the floor and moved on the bed restlessly. How long can three days be? Three days... two nights... and if I passed the test I had gone to Brussels to take, would it all be like this? Lousy rooms, frigid collegues, leering strangers...?



And that dark absymal torrent of loneliness eating away at my consciousness like sniggering maggots?



Gods!



__________________





Yesterday I didn`t pass the test... and I WAS HAPPY! YES HAPPY!



I honestly don`t know what I am going to do with my life. Haven`t got a clue. No aim. No target. Nothing.



But I don`t really care. Not now. Later perhaps, but later I could be dead. Things change fast and you never know what might happen. Later I`ll feel alone again. Shut out. Stiffled. Confused.



But right now... I don`t.



:-)

And so finally, here I go again. The plane leaves on Sunday at 4.30pm and I get back here, to indulge in the comforting and dark embrace of my much sought after quilts, on Tuesday at 11.15pm.



To tell the truth I know it`s kind of hopeless, but I`ve got to try and appease my conscience once and for all by at least making one final effort.



At least no one (my dratted conscience included) can say that I let myself be discouraged. No matter how many times I fall on my arse or make myself look ridicoulous (and believe you me, those occasions are countless).



So my ladies and gentlemen... on we go...

I honestly don`t know why on earth I`m going to bloody Brussels again when I know that I won`t pass. So much money spent just so I can shut up my stupid conscience! *sigh*



Anyway, speaking of stupidity, yesterday I met someone who has perhaps been my best friend for a very very long time. A best friend I never met, because I didn`t want to. I knew that once my brain realized he was a real flesh and blood person and not just a shadow on the other side of the screen, I wouldn`t be able to confide in him any longer. And I was right I think. I don`t know how I`ll be able to tell him everything now. I will never be as close to him as I was when I didn`t actually know him. Lol. Doesn`t make any sense, but there you have it.



I never said I knew what I was doing.

Lol, it seems things are kind of moving on this week. First the modelling thing, and now this.



I had my second interview for the post of journalist this afternoon, and in fact I have just received an email telling me I have got it. The problem is that the wage is not much higher than the one I am currently earning. Obviously the job would be very interesting and motivating, however it involves a lot of hassle as I would have to learn to drive in around a month, not to mention the fact that working with the government I have half days during the summer months (around two and a half months actually) and I wouldn`t have that working in the private sector.



The newspaper director wants my reply immediately. He allready called twice and has said he will call again tomorrow morning before 9am.



If the wage had been a little bit higher I would have accepted for sure, but as it is I do not think it is worth the hassle. Working hours are a bit of a pain too as I would be expected to work till 6pm or later (now I work until around 5) and sometimes go in during weekends as well (NO WAY). So... there you have it I guess.



Damn it. My father is all set against it, so I would just love to pointedly ignore all his objections, shove them up his arse and get on with it, however there are good reasons of my own which, I think, will not let me do that.



Mostly, I NEED MONEY TO GET A PLACE OF MY OWN! That has been my number one priority for ages now. This job would be time consuming and interesting, but, as I allready said, it does not pay enough for me to move out I think.

What an amazing thing!! There`s a Maltese gothic photographer whom I`ve admired for quite some time. His style is hauntingly evocative and quite dark with romantic tinges. Anyway, I`ve watched his work from afar, and I`ve seen him various times, which is not so surprising seeing that we frequent the same scene. It seems that last evening he found my profile and pics online (on another website) and sent me a very flattering message asking me to pose for him. What`s more, he said he had been meaning to ask me for quite some time, but that he had always felt awkward as he doesn`t know me very well.



I am really really flattered. Right now I don`t have the time for a photoshoot, however in a couple of weeks or so I will be totally free, so GO MASQUE!

Why am I so fascinated by my guilt? I feel literally torn in two. Dammit I just don`t know what I should do. How can someone tollerate such a situation? How can he know and accept it? Is that a sign that he really doesn`t care? They are so damn different, and there is so much to appreciate in both of them. One is as kind and nice as I can never be, the other one reflects certain parts of me I rarely show, but which are recently prevailing more and more. I honestly don`t know how I coped yesterday. It was terrible. It was wonderful. It was really exciting.



I just know that I could seriously hurt someone right now, and I don`t want to do that. But I seriously cannot stop myself. I cannot choose. Dammit.



The point is, right now I should be concentrating on the bloody exam which is in TWO WEEKS` TIME!!! WAAAAAA!!!