25th September 2000

2.30 am and Bewitched's blaming it on the weatherman.

I'm staying up late to get some work done, and predictably enough I haven't. I've done a total of -too little- work, and suddenly I can't go on.

I just say goodbye, the rain goes on, and on again.

I'm tired of goodbyes. If I had my way I'd erase every goodbye I've ever said in this life. It's one of those nights. I feel like I'm staying up late, perhaps to abuse myself? Self-imposed punishment. I don't want to sleep; I'm being contrary. I'm going to pay for this tomorrow; I'll probably fall asleep in the GP surgery... but nothing happens in central london. The teaching's uninspiredly conventional, and the patients all present with depression. How do you keep yourself upbeat surrouded by depressed people?

It's my turn to have my start-life crisis, and if you're reading this, you know who you are (and I know you're not reading this because I've never given you the URL, and nobody ever will, so why I'm writing this I simply don't know) then, yeah I'm going through it too. And I have nobody to talk it over to. My social circle of true and trusted friends has dwindled to so few it's ludicrous. So I write on this page to a handful of people who know me, who've probably stopped checking these pages for updates.

You see, I've become truthful and direct now... maybe it's too late, maybe it's too late to try again, and maybe I can pray, maybe I can blame, the weatherman.

Where do I go from here? I have to make up my mind quick. I'm doing my medical finals this year... and I know so little. I can't work, I keep taking breaks to distract myself.

I'm applying for my house jobs this year... do they decide the future of my medical existence? What do I want to do? Do I want to do it here, or back in Singapore? I used to be so convinced I didn't want to be a GP... but after my Dr Doolittle experience in the English Countryside I'm not so sure anymore. But then again, how does a black-haired, brown-eyed individual integrate into a rural English country community? Self-consciously, I suppose. Where do I do my elective? I've got to decide soon, real soon. I'm torn between big-city medicine - the US of A! Maybe Boston! CV opportunities! Dreams of ER! and my One Last Great Chance to See the Things I Never Did - South Africa! or perhaps to revisit the city I fell in love with - Sydney! But no, not Sydney. The olympics will be a thing of the past. I'll be returning to a shell of memories, and Anna will be in Canada, and I'll be alone. Which defeats the purpose of visiting Sydney... I've already done my solo wanderings around Sydney.

I'm toying with the idea of surgery. Or perhaps cardiology. But as a wise doctor once told me, it's not always what you want to do, but the chances you get, that shape your future.

What do I want? What do I want. The ball's in my court. Heck, the whole frigging ball-machine's in my court.

And still the answer's I don't know.

Isn't it strange? There's no answers when you're being oblique and bashful, only frustration... but there's no answers when you're being truthful and direct either. I've been trying for the longest time to be truthful now. I've written a certain you truthful letters which probably convinced you I'm a fruitcake best avoided... and perhaps I am.

Colin Raye's singing how Grandpa's eyes filled up with tears, cos if you get there before I do, don't give up on me. I'll meet you when my chores are through, I don't know how long I'll be... between now and then, till I see you again, I'll be loving you, love me. Such naive idealism. Pshaw. Far better Step's deeper shade of blue. I'm listening to my mp3s now, if you haven't guessed it yet.

I need answers quick. I need to snap out of this. I need to make decisions.

I wish I had a faithful medic friend to talk this over with - because only medics can fully empathise - but the buddies I once had have all drifted. One of them I bumped into in the street yesterday. But things have changed. It frustrates me how relationships can be ruined by slips of the brain/tongue. Another's far away in Portsmouth and so immersed in her life that anything I say is "not with it" and we don't relate the same way anymore. The one's back home are so far away mentally I don't expect I'll ever know them again. Have you guys even realised I'm back here in London? Do you even care? I didn't think so. And the one that I used to confide in freely to... you're so far, far away. I'm waking to find again that you've gone. But I'm still missing you, nothing's changed, yeah I'm, a deeper shade of blue... perhaps I should change my mp3 collection to hiphop.

Summer is over, and all we are is apart.

What happened back there? Nothing? Or too much? Either way, it was... something good and clean. God willing, someday I'll see it again. Not a person, just "it."

I've got a bottle of Baileys in my kitchen; my dad gave it to me about a year ago. That's how rarely I drink - it's probably gone bad by now and I should throw it away. I downed a bottle of bacardi once. It was a childish attempt - not at proving anything, but an experiment. I was curious to see why people did the things they do - and it did nothing for me. A once-off. It wasn't meant to impress anyone. My poisons now are bailey's, and amaretto. I drink like... a woman. lol

I've got two beds in my bedroom, and on the second is a Paddington bear. He's got a yellow anorak, a blue coat and no boots. And day by day, as time passes, he's turning into an ordinary bear.

A friend was kidding with me the other night that I probably have a whole lot of secret fans out there reading these pages... well, as she advises... feel free to show your appreciation for these pages by sending postal orders, cheques or cash.

Someone commented to me last night that I write observationally from the sidelines. Do I? I don't think so. Read my pages. I write incoherently about the pictures in my head... and judging by the way my mind works, I'm a raving lunatic. Perhaps I should start myself on Seroxat...

And there's nothing more painful, than to let your feelings take you down. It's so hard to know, the way you feel inside, when there's many parts, and feelings that you hide... and when you need, a shoulder to cry on, and when you need, a friend to rely on then the whole world is gone, you won't be alone, cos I'll be... somewhere out there. 3 am.