steve's Friends

Ah well.
It was just another 4 years long dream, after all.

Plenty more where they came from.

It's always the same at the end of them: "When do I get to grow up? When do I get to grow up?"

I can't tell whose doing the lying anymore. Is it the Universe or me? What if it's both? I've tried telling it the truth but it doesn't like it. It's tried telling me the truth but it doesn't get anything out of it. I always end up saying "so were you lying before or are you lying now? How can you expect me to trust you?"

I'd really like to drop the Universe altogether and go back to being able to see things in their disconnected state, as if they were real, ordinary things instead of twisted messages and slyly concealed meanings dressed up as unfortunate events. But the machine in my head's too strong now, and too old. And I think I built it badly at the start.

I'm reaching inside myself every day now, to find the switch, but it keeps moving around.

I need a magic hammer with the words "its not about you" scrawled all over it in pulsing green ectoplasm to appear above my head that twats my bonce at appropriate moments.