you got the love

Again, not a long one.

Again, not in my PJs yet. Still in the jeans, scarf and coat that, despite my recently-changed-yet-still-exactly-the-same-as-it-was-two-years-a-go wardrobe, have become my winter uniform. London is cold again tonight. Again.

Again and again. Again. Again again again (as per Lady Gaga lol).

I must admit, the party/ drinking scene is done for me. Not entirely--not to the point that I can't enjoy it for what it is. But to the point that I reach that point--the one where I'm totally ready and relieved to go home, no matter how good a night its been--earlier and earlier every week. At first I thought it was me, something about or in me. But its not. Its just...its the same. Same lines, same looks, same charms, same small talk, same taste, same feel, same niceties, same exchanges....same. And its getting a little tired. Don't get me wrong, its had a great run. But now, maye because of that, it needs to rest up a bit, relax, recover. Maybe even have a protein shake to help the process along ;)

You convince yourself that the whole ritual is worth it, that its for a greater good. But is it? What are we sacrificing, and what for? Ourselves? For a "perhaps"? No, def not worth it. I'll take my nights in with friends, fam, or even GASP!!!--alone; my movies; my music downloading; my reading; my writing; my wandering; my getting lost; my dreaming; my wine in my juice glass, old-school Italian styles; and my silence over the rest of it all, any day. There's so much to see and do and feel. Why save it all for weekends we forget before they've even really started?

You got me.