Scotland 1, Macedonia 1. (Bring back Bertie, All Is Forgiven)

How Scotland escaped from the game last night with a draw is a complete mystery to me.  Macedonia were excellent, with Goran Pandev in particular outstanding.  They must be returning to Skopje today wondering how the hell they did not leave Glasgow with all three points.  We are only five days into a qualifying campaign that runs over 13 months, and hope is evaporating fast.  Under Craig Levein’s stewardship Scotland will not have a hope in hell of getting to Brazil in 2014.

He must go, now.  The next match is away to Wales in October.  This is a game we MUST win now.  It is also a game I am quite keen to go to, but I am struggling to arouse any enthusiasm after the last two inept displays.  Three wins in ten competitive matches is not good enough.  Craig Levein is completely out of his depth, and if the man had a shred of self-awareness he would know this.

Last night’s attendance was reportedly the lowest Hampden has seen for a competitive match in many years.  This shows the lack of faith the Tartan Army currently has in it’s manager.  With the limited resources at our disposal, it is a form of suicide to persist with a man who can’t even keep the ’12th man’ onside.  We need inspired and reinvigorated.  Craig Levein is not the man to do that.

Bring back Bertie!  All is forgiven!

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The Boy The Girl Forgot.

I wrote in the last post that my ex-girlfriend had said that I would forget all about her when I met someone else, and how I took that to mean she would forget all about me when she met someone.  Well, tonight I got wind of my erasure from her memory banks, and the consumation of her relationship with another fella.  A fella she first started chatting to when we were still seeing one another too.  Sadly the quote from Bob Marley I referenced previously isn’t working it’s magic anymore.

It’s half past one in the morning, and I am unable to sleep, and unable to rationalise my feelings.  I don’t feel good, that’s for sure.  And I am annoyed by my own inability to ‘man up’ and just ‘get over her’ as a few well-meaning folk have tried to encouraged me to do.

That’s easy for them to say.

Some say that love is “the highest form of energy”, but if this is so then it cannot be destroyed or diminished.  It can only be changed into another state.  And a tempestous energy like love can likely only be changed into something equally as tempestous.  Which is why it is said love often turns to hate, and vice versa.

Not that I am anywhere close to hate.

And I feel this way despite the fact she has met someone else.  I feel this way despite the fact that her love was always conditional and mine was not, and despite the likelihood that she is in the process of forgetting me.  Despite my suspicions that I was a stopgap til something better came along, and despite the fact I am a no good bum, undeserving of such wonder in my life, I FEEL this way.   Despite the fact there is no hope, I feel this way.  Despite the fact she even advised her family to remove me from their friends lists on Facebook, I feel this way.  And despite her desire to remain friends after ripping my guts out, I feel this way.

Maybe one day I shall generate some ill-feeling that will help me get over her.  Just not tonight.

Feelings, they are a pain in the fucking arse.

17 Syllables And The Truth.

Reading Ono no Komachi’s poetry today has reminded me of my fondness for haiku’s, and my own train wreck of a love-life.   The following were composed by my sub-conscious while I was preparing dinner.  Don’t judge them too harshly, I’m aware they are a bit crap 😉

Twice I slept today,
And both times I dreamt of you.
I enjoyed neither.

————

Will it ever stop,
The pain and the loneliness?
All I have is hope.

———–

There you are again.
Always there, but never here.
God damn my wishes!