So. Went to Richard's place. Broke my phone. Could not ring him when I arrived. Tried to climb over the fence of his house. Could not remember what colour are his curtains. Threw rocks at other people's windows. Until, not involving any other rocks, he just looked of the window to find me on his backyard with fistful of little things I intended to damage his neighbours' windows with.
Reminded me of that story about me calling Robin from the non-stop news kiosk on Dejvická, only this one had a better ending and I wasn't drunk. Or, I wasn't at that very moment, I got a bit tipsy through the night.
Oh. It was a nice night.
It's just that.... we never get relaxed with the other one around. I am stressed because I have problems with finding the right topics, which would not sound too childish or wouldn't be obviously made up just to sound intellectual. And he seems a bit shy. And fragile, in a way. He's my little personal Nick Hodgson, only more into literature and less into music. It's fun, kind of, but we'll never be more than a pair of fuck buddies.
Let's all suck.
The more I get to know other guys the more I'm afraid some feelings will never be got over. The comparison always results in belief that there's just no other.
Let the clocks be reset and the pendulums held.
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