Firstly, I must apologise to all humanity for the title. I have no excuses, my wit is running low – as low as my feet in relation to my body, sinking ever further into this exhausting narrative of loss that is both first-world and entirely irrelevant to bingo, and yet here we are. I’ll spin it like this; bingo is for its part, therapy for my wounded heart. And yes, that rhymed.
I can even hear myself being overly theatrical, see myself briefly from a 3rd person point of view; of course there are others for me, but do I see that right now? Sat in my office writing a bingo blog? Do I ever!? My tears are splashing off the monitor as we speak. There’s a lump so persistently present in my throat I should check it’s not malignant.
It’s not a big deal being a 23 year old single male. And I mean eternally single. I know I’m young. The truth is I’m really really Notebook. Now, I’m not going to sit here and generalise, but this is basically an invitation for women to eat your heart and dispose of you in a fermenting heap of your own dreams. I use Notebook as an adjective to stress the seriousness of this obvious defect in my upbringing. Men, don’t be Notebook, not even for a second! Be more like the Jungle Book or the comic book, or the Book of Eli, or the Book Thief. I’m running out of books. And no I’m not saying my pain is greater than a World War II refugee, but now it’s written, and it sounds good so I’m leaving it.
I gave everything and now I’m sat eating cake, with a heart as broken as my finger when I went to punch a lamppost in a moment of drunken discourse, something like ‘Why why why?!’ before changing my mind mid-swing and clipping my finger. Perhaps that’s it, this limp blue finger could be the answer – in a moment of passion I chose self-preservation over an expression of romance, the first part to healing.
The Book of Eli and blue fingers bring me perfectly to bingo. I know what you’re thinking; ‘It’s your job to play bingo, you’ve basically won at life, quit your moping’. This has another benefit. I have found something therapeutic and reassuring about bingo. Something in the repetition, in the hope, in the sense that ‘this is a game, with no pretence otherwise – but life too is also sometimes a game, and sometimes in games you lose, and sometimes you hit jackpot’.
Thank you for listening beautiful beautiful people! I write for Online Bingo Point, where you can find all the best rewards and deals in the bingo-verse. Come say hi sometime!