Try and sort this one out Tom, go on, I dare ya

Now what, I'm a far cry away from where I sat two years ago, logistically and metaphorically, I have had to leave Berwick, and it's somewhat dramatic irony that I reference it in the earlier blog. Should I start blogging again? Why should I when I'll be looking back on horrible times, on a time when I'm powerless. There's something wrong with me, the chest pains, the palpitations, the lump on the back of my head, these weigh me down and hold me back. Can they really be nothing? Gerrard's the best metaphor I can use, he epitomizes what I feel right now, what I am right now. Pace, passion, pride, determination, glory, the driving force, that's what he was, and he's past it, or passed it, for some reason I keep arguing which one it is, not that it matters. He came so close to the title, so close, agonizingly close, so did I. He was renown for his passionate, never say die attitude, so was I. Are my best days really past me? Lately I watch and hope Gerrard will score an absolute screamer and convince me that you can retrieve what you lost, but week after week it doesn't happen. To think, a 3rd depression, one worse than the 2nd, and leaving Berwick, that's bitter, that still hurts everyday, and then I'm given the advice of those consumed by cynicism who say, "All good things come to an end y'know". Fuck that, I never reached my zenith, and if I did, it wasn't enough, I never won the title, and now it seems I never will, just like Gerrard says, it will be my biggest regret. Hindsight is brilliant though, allows me to see opportunities I never realised I had, things I was close to achieving but didn't realise. It's unreal to think I was nearly relegated, 23rd July and I returned to the house and the door was locked, the key wouldn't open it, and then when I'd finally given up, the door opened, and I knew I had to win every day for the rest of the season to keep my metaphorical status as top flight. And I did, well one was a draw but it was enough. The last day was huge, I showed I still existed somewhere inside this shell, and I was still capable of great things, but since, I've done nothing, again my fears of illness hold me back. I couldn't win the title back in 09/10 and the 7th January was damaging, even though I'd like to think it wasn't, hindsight again. What a great campaign though, my last great campaign, where I took every day individually and attacked it, even if I was terrible away, what does it matter now, I have no home.