I wanna kick myself

And with the last whistle, the little flame for the World Cup dies within me. I'm comforted with the warm consolation that the young team at Deutschland struggled past seasoned Uraguay to hold onto the position they held the last time round. Bye bye, to Schweini, Poldi and Lahm in the Deutschland jersey. I'll see you all back in the Bundesliga.

Tchuss.

Yes I know it's 4.30 and it's high time I kicked myself back into bed. If only I could get back to sleep entirely. Sometimes it haunts me even in my sleep, but I know some things will never return to where they used to be. Are we becoming better people, or worse? Are we learning to compromise, or are we simply stubbing the voice we're so afraid others would hear? "Shuddup and start improving yourself for a start," my nemesis says, "You're too horrible for your own good." How I wish you'd be the one doing the damage, so that I wouldn't feel ever-so guilty about being a perpetual headache for you. And I have grown to hate myself for the fact that, despite all the crappy things that I have done to infuriate you, you still treat me like the best thing that has ever happened to you.