Basically, I wish that you loved me,
I wish that you needed me,
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars, actually I meant three.

The above is taken from a stupid song I was listening to in the car on the way home. My car, I might have said before, is where I get all my thinking done. It's where I evaluate my day. It's where I let off steam, yell at the world, yell at the radio, and I have a good sing. It's where I become diana ross and have a stab at being leona lewis. In my car zooming home from work, nothing particularly matters except the journey from A to B.

That song comes to mind just because I've been thinking for a couple of days about wants, needs and desires. Why, as human beings we're destined not to want what we can have, but to want what we can't. Very recently I suppose I've started to realise what I actually want, and although i know it's relatively impossible, it appears I can't stop myself from falling into that pit... again. It seems my brain loves car-crash telly. It can't get enough. It sees a situation that it would probably be best to steer away from (or put a barbed wire fence around, even better) and it says 'ah... just a bit... go on' instead. At first it's this 'well, it won't hurt if you just... think it, nobody knows you're thinking it, do they'. Well, that's true, i suppose, but thoughts hurt the person thinking them, don't they. and it's got to the stage where it's beginning to hurt... me. over lunch today my friend said she thinks i 'concentrate on the impossible' because to focus on the possible would be scary. it's true that whenever love becomes highly possible, even probable, it is scary.

I don't have a particularly high opinion of myself. Recently I've been considering where my sights have been all this time. I used to enjoy chasing things and people that i felt were way beyond my reach. when i got those things and occassionally got those people then, the achievement felt greater, more significant. but of course, in reality, nobody wants to fight for all that stuff.
all i really want is for someone to care enough to want to know the stupid things about me (like when i say two sugars, i mean three) or that my lucky number is 27. or that i've got all the classic traits of a gemini. or that one of my favourite songs is 'and i love you so' by don mcclean. that i want that song to be the first dance at my wedding. that i like the sound of rain on windows, milk being poured onto cornflakes, and the ping of the bathroom light. that sweetcorn makes me vomit. that planes make me sick. that i can't shuffle cards. that fax machines freak me out. oh, and that i hate pete doherty.

and the question i suppose is... am i really meant to fight for all that stuff? does everything have to be a draining, gutwrenching experience? does destiny ever really come into play and say 'there you are!' or will i forever be walking into car crash situations trying to find my own slice of what's left?

anyway, i'll sign off with some words from that song i want at my wedding. it's simple enough.

and i love you so
people ask me how
how i lived til now
i tell them
'i don't know.'

night all