| Read some Slymme tales at hagridscock
. Current Mood: amused
I went out last night to a club that was having a Robert Smith Night. I waited until it was about 8:45 and then walked the few blocks from my flat. I dressed all in black, with a leather jacket I inherited last year when someone died.
About a block from my place, there was this bloke waiting by a tree. He asked me if I had a fag. I said, 'Nah, don't smoke' and kept going. He said, 'Don't smoke? That's not possible.' I started to turn back to him to ask why not, but decided to keep going. He noticed my partial turn and started to call after me, 'What? What? You want to say something?'
I kept going but actually thought he was following me. I got scared like I always do with confrontation. Whether it’s a customer, boss, mate, loved one, anybody who yells, confronts or challenges me, I immediately get scared. Then I thought about what I should do. I held firmly to the biro in my pocket (anything can be a weapon) but realized he was still by the tree and was not after me. I just kept going.
I got to the nightclub, but did not go in. I just kept thinking I should go home. I walked around the club. I thought I must be still scared over the encounter with the chap. I thought of going home a different way to avoid him. Then I thought that perhaps I should go back and kill him. After all, people like him make the world a horrible place.
I wonder if this is how Robert Smith feels. Current Mood: anxious
This is my first journal entry. How thrilling. I doubt I will get out here much. I prefer to write stories about others than to talk about myself. I guess I'll just turn on the old gramaphone and spin myself a disc. Current Mood: cheerful