You only have the strength left to fall onto your bed, too tired to take off your shoes, leaving yourself clothed for convienience.

All you feel these days is your age. You feel so old that you swear you can hear your joints creaking when you stumble out of bed in the mornings, so old that you feel like you should be in a home already, being fed through an IV tube. Every day you feel it; creeping up on you, jumping out from behind walls and dealing you a painful punch to the gut before it runs off and hides again, only to repeat it's cruel joke again the next day. And the next day. And the day after that...

Twisting your head slightly you're confronted with the sight of the moon, the stars and the sky, all looking down on you. How old are they? Billions of years? More? They're all older than you, that's for sure. But at the moment you feel as old as they are. You feel like time is moving around you on super-high speed and that you are simply standing still, watching it pass. As everything passes you by - friends, jobs, family, events, lovers, pets, seconds, mintues, hours, days - and you feel simply as though you're rooted stuck to the same spot.

---

I dunno. I'm thinking of doing David's story as a diary. I've been reading a lot of diaries recently. I like diaries, and I think it's the kind of thing David would do.

---

*Sighs* Mmmm... Jeff Buckley. Jeff is always good music for when I'm feeling shit.

---

No more jokes. I'm mean to people. I'm going to stop being mean. And crude. I'll generally just stop now. Take a deep breath and think. No one likes a fool. And I'm going to stop being such a pervert too. I'm gonna roll with it, as an incredibly bad British band might say.

Anyway, off to watch the Bill.