whatever talk

I'm proud of myslef. I'm reading again! And not just fiction. Poetry too. Although the latter for pure sensual joy...I'm not trying to probe or analyse.
I've just erased 4 sentences in a row. Everything that I typed seemed too scathing, too caustic. Although, I'm not particularly angry at anyone or anything.
Except at myslef. I'm such a doormat. Vat to dos?
I am also commitment phobic. Arre...not like the Hugh Grant type. Just. You know. Like meeting someone at 4 o'clock. Or promising to get a book or a cd for someone. Or going out somewhere. It's weird. But I love it when I can keep a commitment. But it really stresses me out. Planning, remembering, coming, going. I hate it. Everything should be impromptu. Or maybe not. As long as it is not overly planned, you know? And you don't get disappointed when things don't work out.
Anyway, this is quite pointless.
Two people in a span of two days have told me that, I'm spoilt. I agree.

But I suffer for it.