Life’s pictures.

Isn’t it strange the way a persons photos can say reams about the person. Someone made me look at the people I have photo’s of scattered around my desk, supposedly it’s indictive of the people in your life who mean the most to you, strangely small bunch of people… I’m always in photos, there are litterally thousands of photos of me out and about with friends, but looking at the people I choose to keep closest to me has made me think, I’m not going to go into who they are and why they’re there, but there are certain people missing, and thinking about it I know why they’re not there.

Spent tonight quietly contemplating why certain people around me seem to be on self destruct, swinging from one extreme of having great news, and swinging back to the seemingly infinite depths of depression. I’ve never been a depressive person, so I find it very difficult to see how people can hit such deep lows, the past few years haven’t been a bed of roses for me, but I’ve never found myself so totally on the edge of desperation that theres nowhere left to turn, and it frightens me that someone I thought I knew so well could infact turn out to have such “monsters” inside.

I’m going to end todays entry with a tribute to a great man who sadly left us today: George Harrison was a wonderful man, a man who’s music both with the beatles and as a solo artist has had a huge impact on my life. It’s been quite a sombre day all in all and I can’t honestly sum up the mood i’m in at the moment in my own words, so i’m going to use some lyrics off one of my favourite albums:

Staring at the paper, I don’t know what to write.
I’ll have my last cigarette-well turn off the lights.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel a different way.
But here in my delusion I don’t know what to say.

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