Ernest Kazoo, whatcha gonna do?

Consider this a fictional interlude.

We'll call it Ernest Kazoo's heartfelt musings on Daisy Duran.

I would love to express how much it pangs me that I don't have five minutes to sit her down and talk face to face. Because I can't help but feel that it's all I'd need to show something that isn't regularly associated with me, and for the chemistry to take over. But the overwhelming impression I get is of a girl who doesn't want to compromise the hurt, attachment or loss of control that comes with investing her interest in somebody. Which is a shame because I really adore her.

More than anything, I remember a line about 'the best it's going to get'. I've spent a long time scratching my head at that, wondering whether I'm simply too optimistic and not wanting to accept it.

I don't consider myself one of the hopeless emo generation. As far as I'm concerned, if a girl doesn't like me, that's all the more reason to move on in a hurry. But when I have these deep, deep suspicions that she does and simply doesn't want to get hurt, it puts me in a bit of a spin. I'm caught between ignoring the issue completely for fear of pressuring, or approaching her directly and jostling with her defensive logic which is admittedly much greater than my own.

And that's the problem because I really, really can't bring myself to ask somebody to ignore their gut instinct when every last word of this is based on my own.

I know she reads what I write here. When I post something stupid and ultimately misleading, more often than not, it gets relayed back to me - even if a little indirectly and laced in faux kisses. I've given up trying to wrap my words in sweet double meanings. This is, after all, a blog...so if you're reading it, you can't be running for the hills with hands clasped over eyes. And if you are, well y'know, I think that's a reality far easier to come to terms with.

You'd think that documenting all these delicate feelings would be a recipe for awkwardness, but not really. She knows that I like her. I just don't think she trusts me not to like a thousand other girls too. Which is probably why I need those five minutes.

I'm not at all happy with how personal this blog has become in the space of a single entry. So I think that's my call to disappear off the cyber radar for a little while.

Happy travels, Ernest.