This may be hard to believe, but sometimes I have no motivation to blog. I surf the web and look out for the latest happenings in the blogosphere. I find personal web sites and blogs, online journals and am struck by how interesting and unique, the author leads. Then, I look back at myself and consider my blog as a whole. Overall, it is not generally that exciting and I am nothing but a monotonous exciting, with very few talking points. Though, unlike some, I vow never to leave the blogging world. The ability to record, document my life is crucial, even if somewhat egotistical. It gives me the power to be able to look back at January 2005, in a way I would not be able to do before. I can recall, my movements, the music I was listening to and more importantly the people I was thinking of (and of course, still am!). I needed inspiration. It came in the form of 90 minutes of mind blowing football. I was taken back, to 6th March 2004. Arsenal were playing Portsmouth in the FA Cup, screened live on BBC1. One of the few football matches I was able to watch, in my final year at University. Ironically, it was also the date of my sister Natalie’s birthday, but I had more important things to consider, as I came to sit down on the sofa that evening. I was joined by Paul, not sure where my other house mate Nav was (possibly back home for the weekend). Paul is a casual football fan, but even he was impressed by the free flowing, slick passing of the Gunners and took time away from commercial coding projects to enjoy the game. As an Arsenal fan, it was a performance, that makes you smile with glee. Poetry in motion, as we sealed our place in the semi-finals. The BBC in a master stroke of pure genius decided to play a French song over the credits. The song was by the Beautiful South – Les Yeux Ouverts. Translated means, Open Eyes and the melody is exactly the same as Dream A Little Dream Of Me, as sung by Mama Cass. This was the perfect choice, as you watched some our stars players stroking the ball around the park, toying with the Portsmouth defence. Overall, it was the best performance from Arsenal I had ever seen. Until last night. I had high expectations for the game against Everton, even though there was little riding on it whatsoever. The last Prem Plus pay per view match to be screened this season, and the final pound to be cashed from my Prem Plus season ticket of £50. I still think I only watched a handful of games, mainly those featuring Arsenal. Never mind, this is not a moment for Murdoch bashing. As the teams came out onto the Highbury pitch for the last time in their famous red and white, I had a feeling. A feeling that this was going to be a great game. Everton started off well, but suddenly Arsenal came to live, stringing passes together and Dennis Bergkamp, the Dutch Master was at the centre of everything. We were back to our best, and even surpassing our performance from thirteen months ago. Magical to watch, breathtaking passes, one touch football, patient play. My Mum who has little understanding of football, was well impressed. For a change, I think she was happy to for go her three hours of back to back Indian soap operas. At first half, with a controlling lead, I considered what could happen. Usually we go to sleep, and let the opposition play in the second half, which lets them grow in confidence and as in past games this season we surrender a comfortable lead. Fear, is something all footballers, on the pitch have to contend with. Yet, with a few changes and the captain armband switching to DB10, there was also the introduction of Henry. Never had my mouth watered at the prospect of Arsenal, really turning on the style. The anticipation was just too much and I did not want the game to end, was this well oiled machine getting into the high gears. Read the view from Spain, Arse Blog but also the latest from all the news services on NewsNow. I text a work colleague, at the final whistle, “Anyone remember, boring boring Arsenal?” His reply was to just rub my nose in it, “CHAMPIONS!”. Yes, a Chelsea fan. No matter what anyone says, August is not too far away. That is when dreams will crumble.

Watching Arsenal in this record breaking performance, made me consider the fact that I should be there, watching the game from the North Bank and not from the comfort of my sofa. I need to get myself moving to be in line for a season ticket for the new stadium. First stop however, is the final game at Highbury. Plus, I may not exactly agree with the colour, but going to have to order me one of these.

It is usually at this time we all begin making plans for the summer. So what have you got planned? Every year, I build this period up, as something unforgettable is just around the corner. In the end, nothing major happens and life as always just passes me by. While everyone else goes out and enjoys themselves. Today is going to be different. Today there will not be the sweeping statements that this summer brings with the possibility of sheer joy, happiness and warmth. The realist will tell you that expecting the unexpected is a much better way to live your life. Instead there are no big plans, no surprises, I am just going to continue on this journey and see where it takes me. The door is always open, for anyone. So should they decide to come back into my life, I will always let them in. If I am honest, September has always been the best month of the year for me. Why? Just consult the archives.

So we come to the underlying situation that continues. Progress is slow, almost nonexistent if I am honest with myself. At times I wonder why I have worked myself up into this situation. There are times when they are constantly in my thoughts, in all my conversations, even my dreams. Then days go by, when I am focused on more important aspects of my life. Sure, I wish there was something I could do. Something I could say. A killer line, like the hook in a romantic song that would make life much more easier for me. Yet the truth, if it would be told is. That I am as much in the dark, as the readers of this blog. In recent days I have come to conclusion that I must consider the future. A future which may not include them. A future, when I walk off into the sunset alone. While this is very hard, when anything significant is yet to happen, I realise that deep in my heart it is the only thing that will let me switch off and move on. As difficult as it will be. I must look to the months ahead and while there is just one date in the diary so far, I hope I can be bold enough to make it many more.