censored summertime

there are a hundred things more important than rugby, i know.

but like any foolish stubborn young thing who's about to hit the big two-zero but still feels like she's one-zero sometimes, i am steeped in denial. instead of blogging about the hundred more important things out there in our messed up world, i'm more obssessed with the odd-shaped ball.

and as it is with everything that i have ever been strongly emotionally attached to, i fear that one day i'll wake up and realise that the game and i have developed a love-hate relationship.

the same way i woke up this morning, remembered that bl*cks karaoke is this afternoon, and all of a sudden it struck me that it didn't really matter. i could go, i could not go;

have i really fallen out of love with them?

i used to think that things turning out this way would definitely be for the best, but now i'm not so sure. this is not liberation and release, it feels more like a depressive void.

what a mood i'm in.