A friend is over. Coked up. While I’m sober. No loss there. He’s trying to get bruno to play (by taking apart the remote control) while I just lay here. One part ignoring. Two parts hopeful that it will actually work.
It didn’t work.
This place keeps getting brighter and brighter as days, more like nights, go by. An extra strand of xmas lights. Tinsel. More tacky xmas trees sprouting up in archways and rock gardens. Wall paper… On walls.
My hips are aching and it hurts when I laugh due to a fresh dermal anchor on my temple. I should be at home laying on a heating pad. Instead I’m nursing my fourth pearl diver and typing this, occasionally talking to a friend or two.
What I like about you is that you are so pretty but never take yourself seriously. Remember when you came out in the fall wearing a pencil skirt with an old flannel shirt?
No
And you cut your hair. And it looks nice and not just anyone can pull that off but I miss it long. It was sexy.
… Sorry.
You are really akward. You don’t seem like youde be.
Okay, I’m going to finish this fifth one then go home. New place. In the city. I guess I never posted that I moved anywhere away from the city. But I did. Exit signs are a beacon. Wherever I am.
Ooh someone played ‘wolf like me’ for me.
I like it when you smile. You give these little looks and it makes me sad to think you’ll never see them. Its not like you look in the mirror and smile. You know like Practice. and you’ll never understand how exquisite those dimples are. They aren’t really dimples just…
Divots?
no not at all. They are just beautiful. I think you are going thru a phase where you want a baby. Not a baby. Just someone to take care of. Why don’t you get a cute crack head?
So they can steal my shit, pawn it to buy drugs? Naw…
No it goes: duh dum duh dah help me h e l p m e help me help me! Duh duh dum duh dah.
In my car waiting for it to warm up and I don’t know why I didn’t bring my coat. Or scarf. Or gloves. it was nice today. Didn’t want to be alone so I ran out forgetting it or not thinking I needed it. Meeting my mom at the rich rich mall across from the rich mall to buy soaps, look at expensive things that shouldn’t be so much. Getting stared at like I was going to steal something until my mom showed up.
now I’m in my bed nursing fresh tattoos and not looking forward to tomorrow.
So, death. And love. And sex.
I’m not afraid of death. Sure, it’s an end. I won’t be, anymore. I won’t write anymore
(stop clapping). I won’t breathe anymore. I won’t talk to you anymore (don’t party, yet).
I won’t be, anymore. NOT here, anyway.
Yeah, I believe in an afterlife. That’s the only fear. I don’t want to go to Hell. I’ve
had . . . visions of what await me there. I know what I’ve done. I know where I was wrong.
I know where I am wrong. I know the price I must pay. But I don’t fear dying.In the past six months I’ve gone through some changes. Like that Black Sabbath song, which
I like a lot, and has been a theme for my life often enough. I’ve got a flaming heart.
Blah blah blah. Anyway, death is not something that I fear. I’ve taunted it, somewhat.
In the past six months I haven’t cared much for living. I’ve had little to look forward to.
(I hate ending sentences with prepositions, but . . .) I live with my parents. Blah. Ihave a job in a factory, so it goes nowhere. Blah. I just got a new(ish) car. Blah. What
am I going to do next? Maybe I’ll get my own home. Alone. Then what? So, no prospects.
I’m too creepy to keep a full-time girlfriend. And that’s what I want, really. I don’t
want something to stick my cock into. That’s the for the next subject; now we’re about
death. Which I don’t fear.
I used to drink at the bar. I could tell my limit & I’d ween myself off for the night.
Sometimes the bartender would help me out in that. She was cool. The bar was cool. It was
a home to me. Then I’d go home . . . and sleep ‘til time to work. Sometimes, barely making
it. Driving like Hell was on my tail. Which it might’ve been. I didn’t care about that.
I wanted to drive fast, and I liked those moments when I didn’t care. I liked driving home
from the bar when I’d had more than I should have. Maybe I’d crash. Maybe I’d die. What
would happen? Of course, in my vanity, I’d wonder who would come to my funeral. What would
people say? What would they do? How would my death change their lives? Looking at how
other deaths have affected people . . . probably not much. Not mine. Not theirs. Not much
effect. Not death. So, why fear it? I drive fast. It’s fun. It’s dangerous. I don’t
fear crashish and dying.
I do fear surviving. Ever been in a crash? It sucks when you have to keep on going.
Injured? Sux. Car totaled? Sux. Insurance goes up? Sux. Hospital bills? Sux. Lost
work (less income). Sux. The pain? Sux. Could’a died. Then you wouldn’t have to worry
anymore, right?
Love?
Sex?
What’s sex? Grunting, sweating, thrusting . . . for what? Afterward . . . was it worth
it? What if it was with someone you didn’t care about? What was it all for? That single
moment of physical gratification? Lame. It’s not love. It’s fucking. And it’s sick.
It’s a sickness. Just going together for selfish needs.
What I want is something more. Something to fulfill me, and for me to fulfill. I don’t
just want someone to complete me; I want someone that I complete. It won’t be physical. It
won’t be sexual. It should be something more. Something deeper. And it may never happen.
But I don’t want sex. I don’t want to get laid. That’s boring. That’s over and done with
in a moment. There can be doubt and regret. I’m done with that. I’ve had that. It’s not
what I want. I want the real thing. I want the faerie-story ending. I believe that it’s
out there. It might be shining. It might be dark. But it’s magical. And I’m looking for
it, like I have been all my life. True, my eyes get distracted by shiny things before me,
but what I really, truly want . . . is so powerful that . . . I don’t know what to say . . .
I’m sitting on the couch listening to my room mate brainstorm aloud on how easy it would be to make a couch. My only input being that it needs dinosaurs stenciled on it. And/or Jesus. only words of advice I have as of late are don’t use an electric razor on your armpits. Apparently its supposed to be common sense.
Oh and I miss you boy.
http://www.theonion.com/content/news_briefs/lost_cat_dog_on_journey_die?utm_source=onion_rss_daily :::
JACKSON, WY—After their owners inadvertently left them behind in Yellowstone National Park, Louie, a 4-year-old golden retriever, and Nipsy, a 3-year-old longhair cat, were killed within minutes of beginning their heartwarming journey home, sources reported Monday. “It looks like right after leaving the campsite they fell off a cliff and died upon impact with the highway below,” park ranger Ken Hinkley said after discovering their barely recognizable bodies, which had been partially eaten by a cougar the pair likely would have outsmarted with adorably clever teamwork had they survived. “After that, it appears their carcasses were run over by a tractor-trailer, probably operated by a gruff but kindhearted truck driver who no doubt would have given them a lift. Poor little guys. Had to toss ‘em in a ditch.” Louie and Nipsy’s family reportedly gave up hope immediately, and have already purchased a new kitten and puppy whom they love very much.
like anna nicole. minus the stringy haired toothless relatives.
nice viagra and xanax spams huh? it seems like a very good combination so im not that mad about it.
http://www.parrotta.de/artists/lidy_jacobs/01.shtml
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that’s all i got.
comment [303]
Oh how I hate me. I’m not going to post this to-night. My brain is scatttering as I type this. It’s been three weeks in the waiting. I have several subjects I’d like to address, and I will do none of them in this sitting. I’m not really in the mood to write at the moment. I’m drinking, and I’m itching to play my game. Last-night I started a new character for the game. A character that’s going to do things in bad ways that I might not normally do. My original character does what I think I would really do. Mostly. I want to say “mostily” ever since I saw that “Jizz in my Pants” video. Check it out; it’s awesome. Anyway, ever notice how fast your heart beats sometimes when you’ve been drinking? Ther are times when I wake up after doing lots of drinking and have to piss the Thames. Occasionally, my heart will beat so fast and hard when I do that, that I think I might just die. Now I’m checking my msgs neurotically. At least to see if they’ve read my message.
I want to write about the distinction between love and sex. I want to write about my concerns (or lack thereof) about death. I want to play my game ‘cause when I started that second (bad) character, I accidently saved over my most recent save for my main character. The full implications of this didn’t hit me until sometime to-day, while at work. However, the game does auto-save when one leaves or enters through a door. So, I still have a save for that character. Albiet slightly further back than what I’d like to be. Especially since I made some impressive moves since that time. I think. I can’t remember exactly. I wanted to say “exactily” there. Even though that wasn’t in the song.
I’m listening to some new music right now. My idiot . . . well, a “co-worker” of mine suggested two bands that I might like, based on a band that I do newly like a lot. Usually this guy’s suggestions are shit. Fortunately for him, I’ve already been directed towards this first new (to me) band, so he’s slightly more credible. And it’s pretty good, so far.
I hate it when I reach for my drink and it’s empty.
Usually on New Year’s Eve I try to avoid people. Like, even go to the bathroom to be away from others during the official year-change. I’ve never seen the ball drop, aside from movies and such. This year I’m going to a friend of the family’s, and I plan to get stupid-drunk. I just hope I don’t make a complete ass of myself and hit on everything that is faintly feminine.
I watched a shew to-day that made me sad. I don’t know why. It was an episode of “Terminator: Sarah Conner Chronicles” and I felt like an overemotional little girl watching it. I knew that I’ve been feeling more unhappy lately, but I guess it must be worse that I’d thought. I think about time-travel a lot. I’m often considering the cause and effect of one’s actions. You know, “what if?” and all that. Well, not just that. Some minor change can effect so many things in the future. Especially something that we think of as insignificant at the moment. Even things that no-one else would know, right? Yeah. Things that get dug up later.
So, maybe I’m a lesbian trapped in a woman’s body? lol, I just told someone on messenger that I just wrote that.
I might have to save the convo and paste it here, with names changed.
***
Wow. I read it, and it’s total drivel. I’m not posting that crap here.
***
Oh, lol, okay. So. I suddenly felt the alcohol take hold of me. Colours are interesting. My im’s are slower. Should I publish the new ones, too?
lol, that’d be funny.
and I mean, “taht’dbe bunny!”
comment [525]
