She's so pretty; so calm, so collected and happy. I don't buy it. There's something there submerged that will eventually bubble up to the surface and blow up in my face. Just drop it, I won't sacrifice for you, won't compromise with you and most probably won't respect you. Although you will forcibly accept my resentment, contempt and possibly my pity. Sounds like a good time? No - of course not.
Think you can change me or wait for me to do so independently? Don't hold your breath, count me out for your bullshit psychology and strictly stop starting sentences with "you have to" or I will walk away at best.
Well then beautiful, welcoming and innocent simple smile I will have to see where you take me, because I can't resist your evil temptations. As much as I know it will go poorly, possibly destroying me emotionally and draining my ability to trust, I'm at your feet. Helpless and naive. Curiosity - worse! Weakness. Keep telling yourself it will be worth it someday and they can't all be the same. Hopeful and willing, more than that, pursuing and trying. For now.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
banishing the negativity
Tomorrow I am breaking up with her. I must, for her. It's been three months and I've known all along I wasn't going to love her. Now that I've written it I have to do it - no pussying out. That is the main reason I haven't written anything else about her, since the beginning it was doomed to fail and I went along with it. Poor girl. It went from a casual "come over" to a committed "relationship."
In every sense of the word it failed as a relationship, at least for me. I despised her friends, her choice in films, music, food. We disagreed on basic things, even on smoking and drinking there was no common ground. Worst of all though, was the fact that she had no hobbies, her life consisted of working, watching films ("trash" by her definition), and lots and lots of sleeping. No exchange of ideas, beliefs, thoughts or conceptions and when I tried to initiate anything that was a touch less than honky-dory she didn't want to explore it.
I let it slide, let it ALL slide. The ignorance, or commonly known in a less obnoxious way, lack of worldly knowledge. The sex - jesus - the sex at first was abysmal -> worse! It was mediocre. Worst of all, the negativity. She would go on about complaining about the way things are: her job, the weather, speed bumps in the road and when it would appear to change to what she had "wanted" she would complain about the change.
All that I let go to try and experience a "normal" relationship with a "normal" girl. Not as different as I first imagined, less sparks, for better and worse, mostly better if I could say in her defence. She would obey me in every way shape and form, not to say I was a dictator- HARDLY - but she was dead set in her aim to please me.
When she said it the first time, I ignored it and excused it to myself as an inexperienced girl's confusion of sex and love. The second time also, "she is being silly". Since then, she hasn't said it, but I can feel it from her more than ever, this intimate closeness, this admiration that I "can do no wrong". All I can think of is how the only thing I receive from her is sex. That's all it is was and all it will ever be for me, I just don't see her in that way. Never have, never will.
It is only merciful that this must end then, the uncomfortable nature of ending a relationship and the added uncertainty of sex in the near future is not enough to halt me from completing this task. I'm no martyr, at least to anyone else that is - but to myself... perhaps? I know where my intentions lie and based on those I can honestly say that it is time to end it, for her benefit and mine.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
"Wake up!" - I'm in a rush.
Focusing in on where I am. Uncomfortable benches, tall ceiling, busy people walking quickly back and forth. I look to my side and I see her. It's been over a year since we last spoke and just about three since I saw her. She appeared seemingly unchanged, that warm, understanding and accepting smile melts the cold embrace of waking up uncomfortable, thawing the deepest strains of my past experiences.
Just like old times.
Urgency in her tone, yet soothing to my ears. "Quickly! We're going to miss the plane!" I find a suitcase resting at my feet. Looks familiar enough. We start marching in a semi-panicked pace. In hindsight, I recall spotting a quasi-familiar face, an unwelcome and smug one at that. Then the penny drops - it's her current beau. Being the former gives all the satisfaction of watching your once-loved one embrace another.
Not questioning anything, I should've know. Apathetic about the destination, my heart drops to my ankles, throat arid and I realise - "I'm in my own worst nightmare."
Two days ago this was my dream, well, the one I remember. Wish I didn't and glad I do simultaneously.
Focusing in on where I am. Uncomfortable benches, tall ceiling, busy people walking quickly back and forth. I look to my side and I see her. It's been over a year since we last spoke and just about three since I saw her. She appeared seemingly unchanged, that warm, understanding and accepting smile melts the cold embrace of waking up uncomfortable, thawing the deepest strains of my past experiences.
Just like old times.
Urgency in her tone, yet soothing to my ears. "Quickly! We're going to miss the plane!" I find a suitcase resting at my feet. Looks familiar enough. We start marching in a semi-panicked pace. In hindsight, I recall spotting a quasi-familiar face, an unwelcome and smug one at that. Then the penny drops - it's her current beau. Being the former gives all the satisfaction of watching your once-loved one embrace another.
Not questioning anything, I should've know. Apathetic about the destination, my heart drops to my ankles, throat arid and I realise - "I'm in my own worst nightmare."
Two days ago this was my dream, well, the one I remember. Wish I didn't and glad I do simultaneously.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Prelude
"Come over," he said, "there are girls here that want to see you."
"What girls? Do I know them?"
"Nope, just some girls - come on!"
Reluctantly I caved to his request. Not because he asked - curiosity, intrigue and a little bit of boredom were my drinking buddies that night.
She comes over - seemingly very drunk and horny. Her pale skin damp and slightly shiny from the bar-sweat. Freckles. Red hair that goes on forever, like waves crashing on the shore endlessly. My interest was teased, tickled and by the end of the night her phone number was mine.
Smitten
We talked, laughed, shared and opened up to one another about ourselves. We kissed over and over again, satisfying our sexual tension from the last time's teaser. Perhaps too much so as we were left bare - not in skin, but in intimacy. As such, our relationship seemed to progress with lightning speed.
Confused - just as you let a shrapnel of light in...
But, there was something missing. Actually two things. First, it felt as though we couldn't hold a conversation without resorting to light petting to cover the overly-concious realisation that we don't match intellectually. It took me a while to figure out the second. Sex - there was none. It wasn't synchronising up - very intimate talks and touching, but... nothing, no progression.
Surprised
So I asked her, lo and behold she was a virgin in all manners of the word. An inexperienced, naive and most likely, scared girl. I wasn't totally taken by surprised, wasn't my first time around in this situation, but there was something different this time. I just didn't know what yet.
On the fence
These two obstacles stood firmly. Bothered me constantly and I kind of liked it - at first. I didn't think it would concern me as much as it does.
Now what?
"Come over," he said, "there are girls here that want to see you."
"What girls? Do I know them?"
"Nope, just some girls - come on!"
Reluctantly I caved to his request. Not because he asked - curiosity, intrigue and a little bit of boredom were my drinking buddies that night.
She comes over - seemingly very drunk and horny. Her pale skin damp and slightly shiny from the bar-sweat. Freckles. Red hair that goes on forever, like waves crashing on the shore endlessly. My interest was teased, tickled and by the end of the night her phone number was mine.
Smitten
We talked, laughed, shared and opened up to one another about ourselves. We kissed over and over again, satisfying our sexual tension from the last time's teaser. Perhaps too much so as we were left bare - not in skin, but in intimacy. As such, our relationship seemed to progress with lightning speed.
Confused - just as you let a shrapnel of light in...
But, there was something missing. Actually two things. First, it felt as though we couldn't hold a conversation without resorting to light petting to cover the overly-concious realisation that we don't match intellectually. It took me a while to figure out the second. Sex - there was none. It wasn't synchronising up - very intimate talks and touching, but... nothing, no progression.
Surprised
So I asked her, lo and behold she was a virgin in all manners of the word. An inexperienced, naive and most likely, scared girl. I wasn't totally taken by surprised, wasn't my first time around in this situation, but there was something different this time. I just didn't know what yet.
On the fence
These two obstacles stood firmly. Bothered me constantly and I kind of liked it - at first. I didn't think it would concern me as much as it does.
Now what?
Monday, May 9, 2011
Don't read
We're all just a bunch of idiots.
Then what's the point of it all?
Why do we expect reciprocation from our equals? It's not going to happen, it's not coming or just around the corner or any other bullshit that we force ourselves to believe.
Just like Slipknot say - People = Shit.
This façade we employ is just our coping method, to ignore this simple fact.
The worst thing is - everyone is equal. That means that the most screwed up individual you can come up with is just as good as yourself. No better. No worse.
So we buy into this hoax that you treat someone else as you would like to be treated yourself.
For what? Disappointment and grief.
We lose more than we win. Fact.
Think of all the opportunities you ever had in your life. Now consider those that you succeeded in. Statistical proof. So if we're "playing" to lose, why bother? Putting ourselves in harm's way repeatedly just for that off-chance that it will pan out. Try and make sense of that. On second thought - don't. Why would you? This contagious disease of dissecting these thoughts will not end well.
End.
Then what's the point of it all?
Why do we expect reciprocation from our equals? It's not going to happen, it's not coming or just around the corner or any other bullshit that we force ourselves to believe.
Just like Slipknot say - People = Shit.
This façade we employ is just our coping method, to ignore this simple fact.
The worst thing is - everyone is equal. That means that the most screwed up individual you can come up with is just as good as yourself. No better. No worse.
So we buy into this hoax that you treat someone else as you would like to be treated yourself.
For what? Disappointment and grief.
We lose more than we win. Fact.
Think of all the opportunities you ever had in your life. Now consider those that you succeeded in. Statistical proof. So if we're "playing" to lose, why bother? Putting ourselves in harm's way repeatedly just for that off-chance that it will pan out. Try and make sense of that. On second thought - don't. Why would you? This contagious disease of dissecting these thoughts will not end well.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Just talk
Happiness
The timeless question - What makes me happy?
To me, it's people. Ones that make you smile, make you giggle uncontrollably, that for some reason just being around them make you feel better, or in extraordinary cases, feel more like yourself. I am fortunate enough to possess such people.
I seek it.
The so-called "click", chemistry, love at first sight, not the love that you see in films or read about in fairy-tales. The connection you make that surprises you when you realise it. Feels like divine intervention. As if you were put on this earth to encounter this otherwise pedestrian-looking individual.
It doesn't require anything, don't need common ground, similar background, comparable uprising, nothing parallel at all between the two of you. Yet, this celestial sensation is signalling you to under-no-circumstance let this pass you by. The feeling you get when you talk yourself out of talking to the hot girl at the supermarket is the realisation that you could've missed out.
You miss 100% of the shots you don't take - Wayne Gretzky.
The crazy thing is - we don't allow ourselves to encounter these magical connections. We avoid it. To sit next to someone on the bus and just feel better because they are around. To feel free, to feel "it." Why do we deny ourselves of one of our most sought-after desires?
I've yet to hear an answer that isn't fear or fear-related.
Fear - Unacceptable
The timeless question - What makes me happy?
To me, it's people. Ones that make you smile, make you giggle uncontrollably, that for some reason just being around them make you feel better, or in extraordinary cases, feel more like yourself. I am fortunate enough to possess such people.
I seek it.
The so-called "click", chemistry, love at first sight, not the love that you see in films or read about in fairy-tales. The connection you make that surprises you when you realise it. Feels like divine intervention. As if you were put on this earth to encounter this otherwise pedestrian-looking individual.
It doesn't require anything, don't need common ground, similar background, comparable uprising, nothing parallel at all between the two of you. Yet, this celestial sensation is signalling you to under-no-circumstance let this pass you by. The feeling you get when you talk yourself out of talking to the hot girl at the supermarket is the realisation that you could've missed out.
You miss 100% of the shots you don't take - Wayne Gretzky.
The crazy thing is - we don't allow ourselves to encounter these magical connections. We avoid it. To sit next to someone on the bus and just feel better because they are around. To feel free, to feel "it." Why do we deny ourselves of one of our most sought-after desires?
I've yet to hear an answer that isn't fear or fear-related.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Hop of Faith
Firstly, that ^ isn't a typo.
As I write this, it's been 2 days - one day overdue since the occurrence.
Fine. I'll just go. I say to myself as I get in my car to go to a rock show. Friend of the band, or at least band member. Situated on the bar, I'm waiting, but not for someone - for anyone.
BREAK IN THE STORY
Attractive people. Attract, which is what they do. To be attracted to someone is to physically find yourself around them subconsciously knowing you are trying to be nearer.
When you realise you are attracted/want someone, whether it be romantically or not, it's very simple - right? - you just actively try to find ways to get closer. This is a common and very well-known weapon in my personal arsenal of "being cool" - be around cool people makes you cool. Easy.
The problem comes in not when you want - not even when you are wanted - rather when it's one-sided.
Most guys have experienced this many times, you want a girl - simple - she doesn't want you - clear cut - so what happens is eventually it ends.
With that out of the way - what do you do when you find the shoe on the other foot? When you find yourself being desired and you are...nonchalant.
BACK TO THE STORY
Surely enough, I'm approached by a good-looking girl, "Could I trouble you for a vodka-bull?" Me, feeling in a generous and outgoing mood, I go with it.
Blah, blah blahblah...
Sounds good so far, RIGHT?!
Not only do I give her a ride home and being a total gentleman - and oddly not into her - I proceed to go home, where I find myself talking to her on facebook. She proclaims: "I'm not tired at ALL - up for something?"
So I go and pick her up, we go and sit down and talk and stuff and I am TRYING to figure out why I'm not into her. To this moment it's still unclear to me. I'm not going into details with this one, but take my word for it she kept trying to "upsell" herself, which in turn, made me feel like I'm out of her league.
On paper, there is no reason I shouldn't want her... then wtf?
She's adorable, hot, pretty, smart, indie, unique and out-of-her-bloody-mind. Just my type I'd think.
In short, the next day she sent me a message among others: "I was thinking of inviting you over to sleep or something. Completely innocently" - Did not go.
On top of that, tonight we went out. I was on the brink of losing my mind. WHY wtfwtfwtf
I'm too frustrated to even finish this up yet I want to keep the integrity and genuineness of these feelings. I'm posting it.
P.S. I changed my mind, there SHOULD be a "The Game" for girls, only the hot ones
Bear - you da man: The Party Song - Blink 182
As I write this, it's been 2 days - one day overdue since the occurrence.
Fine. I'll just go. I say to myself as I get in my car to go to a rock show. Friend of the band, or at least band member. Situated on the bar, I'm waiting, but not for someone - for anyone.
BREAK IN THE STORY
Attractive people. Attract, which is what they do. To be attracted to someone is to physically find yourself around them subconsciously knowing you are trying to be nearer.
When you realise you are attracted/want someone, whether it be romantically or not, it's very simple - right? - you just actively try to find ways to get closer. This is a common and very well-known weapon in my personal arsenal of "being cool" - be around cool people makes you cool. Easy.
The problem comes in not when you want - not even when you are wanted - rather when it's one-sided.
Most guys have experienced this many times, you want a girl - simple - she doesn't want you - clear cut - so what happens is eventually it ends.
With that out of the way - what do you do when you find the shoe on the other foot? When you find yourself being desired and you are...nonchalant.
BACK TO THE STORY
Surely enough, I'm approached by a good-looking girl, "Could I trouble you for a vodka-bull?" Me, feeling in a generous and outgoing mood, I go with it.
Blah, blah blahblah...
Sounds good so far, RIGHT?!
Not only do I give her a ride home and being a total gentleman - and oddly not into her - I proceed to go home, where I find myself talking to her on facebook. She proclaims: "I'm not tired at ALL - up for something?"
So I go and pick her up, we go and sit down and talk and stuff and I am TRYING to figure out why I'm not into her. To this moment it's still unclear to me. I'm not going into details with this one, but take my word for it she kept trying to "upsell" herself, which in turn, made me feel like I'm out of her league.
On paper, there is no reason I shouldn't want her... then wtf?
She's adorable, hot, pretty, smart, indie, unique and out-of-her-bloody-mind. Just my type I'd think.
In short, the next day she sent me a message among others: "I was thinking of inviting you over to sleep or something. Completely innocently" - Did not go.
On top of that, tonight we went out. I was on the brink of losing my mind. WHY wtfwtfwtf
I'm too frustrated to even finish this up yet I want to keep the integrity and genuineness of these feelings. I'm posting it.
P.S. I changed my mind, there SHOULD be a "The Game" for girls, only the hot ones
Bear - you da man: The Party Song - Blink 182
break from the regularly scheduled programming
At this point I would like to say that I will not censor myself in regards to other people I know whom I reference in these stories/thought-journeys. If I have hurt/offended anyone and they would like me to take it down (even though I don't reference anyone by name) please contact me and it will be done.
On the other hand, if you find yourself here (meaning I've either given you this address or it just got around) then know that I'm thinking of you beyond our relationship.
That will be all.
On the other hand, if you find yourself here (meaning I've either given you this address or it just got around) then know that I'm thinking of you beyond our relationship.
That will be all.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Butterfly wing
Unbelievable really, how everything affects us. What we read, eat, smell, the temperature or even what other people are feeling. As I write this I am feeling such a mixture of emotions.
Wind whistling through the window, cat purring on my lap and just got done with a quick and far painless emotional self-torture. Confidence, awareness of the lack of awareness, the will to explore things that are otherwise far too frightening to expose. Hurrah for emotional masochism. This probably seems like utter nonsense as I've not slept in a while and my face is not doing the typing for me thanks to caffeine.
Scariest thing is coming to realisation, everything is motivated by fear. Don't want to believe it - first stage: denial. Oh how spectacularly proficient I am at this, to conceal the anguish of survival. I do mean survival, powering through the sadness, anger, confusion. Feeling distant, alone, misunderstood to those around you and to yourself. Having the rug pulled under your feet consistently, to the point where you want to cling on to those things which are constant, but are too afraid they will be taken away. That's the worst, the reason why it's easier to open up to a complete stranger rather than to those who are close to you. The problem being, of course, that once you open up to them they are no longer a stranger.
So I move on, peddle the fake sense of intimacy to those victims I choose to bear this cross, initially selfishly, but far too quickly do I find myself attached to them, my brethren, my biggest weakness. Whom without I cannot get out of bed, let alone function or be "satisfied" with my existence. I am happy when I am helping, teaching, instructing, bestowing knowledge useless or otherwise. Seeing a smile which reads you helped me overcome is the biggest satisfaction I can get.
It's not about being right, rather knowing that thanks to me, they could do it. Imagine my elation when after reading through these unnamed pieces of me, my own mother learned something about herself. Perhaps I misunderstood, but just feeling that I contributed to her regardless of our relationship.
The feeling is gorgeous.
Wind whistling through the window, cat purring on my lap and just got done with a quick and far painless emotional self-torture. Confidence, awareness of the lack of awareness, the will to explore things that are otherwise far too frightening to expose. Hurrah for emotional masochism. This probably seems like utter nonsense as I've not slept in a while and my face is not doing the typing for me thanks to caffeine.
Scariest thing is coming to realisation, everything is motivated by fear. Don't want to believe it - first stage: denial. Oh how spectacularly proficient I am at this, to conceal the anguish of survival. I do mean survival, powering through the sadness, anger, confusion. Feeling distant, alone, misunderstood to those around you and to yourself. Having the rug pulled under your feet consistently, to the point where you want to cling on to those things which are constant, but are too afraid they will be taken away. That's the worst, the reason why it's easier to open up to a complete stranger rather than to those who are close to you. The problem being, of course, that once you open up to them they are no longer a stranger.
So I move on, peddle the fake sense of intimacy to those victims I choose to bear this cross, initially selfishly, but far too quickly do I find myself attached to them, my brethren, my biggest weakness. Whom without I cannot get out of bed, let alone function or be "satisfied" with my existence. I am happy when I am helping, teaching, instructing, bestowing knowledge useless or otherwise. Seeing a smile which reads you helped me overcome is the biggest satisfaction I can get.
It's not about being right, rather knowing that thanks to me, they could do it. Imagine my elation when after reading through these unnamed pieces of me, my own mother learned something about herself. Perhaps I misunderstood, but just feeling that I contributed to her regardless of our relationship.
The feeling is gorgeous.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Don't... please
Being a hero or doing something heroic is subject to bias. It has to be.
Sometimes being an asshole is the most heroic and thoughtful thing to do.
Sigh.
This girl, she drove me to the edge of my everything: patience, sanity, ecstasy, intimacy and countless others.
"I can't believe I could live without her"
This was said on 2 occasions, when it was good and after the post-breakup bad ended. Never thought I would.
It was chemical, atomic even the attraction - physical and emotional. We were both damaged and needed each other. Co-dependency you can call it. I needed to give and she, well she needed a lot, most of which I could give her. Alas, young love is doomed to fail, lack of real world experience (read: real is not used sarcastically) or whatever other reason.
"If we only met at a different time"
Ugh, this makes me visibly ill to even write. Worst of the excuses for failed relationships.
Week on, week off as we broke up and made up almost simultaneously and that kept it going, filled some desperate disfigured need for adrenaline and not for support. When that phase was over, there was a brief 2 month radio silence where the silence of the night was not calm, but frantic with thoughts, feelings and the almost incurable desire to share them with her.
Some mighty impressive self restraint -eventually - and she calls. I am cold, rude and unappreciative of her effort - thank god. This was followed by a lot of self destructive behaviour on my and her behalf.
I like to believe I was being an asshole for both of our sake's, but a part of me thinks I was protecting myself and my ego from shattering repeatedly. Either way, had it not been for that incident, this long overdue end to a relationship that was once like a pair of wings lifting up both to bigger and better things and now was more like a swamp of infinite sorrow and grief would not have occurred - this way at least.
I'm glad it did.
Sometimes being an asshole is the most heroic and thoughtful thing to do.
Sigh.
This girl, she drove me to the edge of my everything: patience, sanity, ecstasy, intimacy and countless others.
"I can't believe I could live without her"
This was said on 2 occasions, when it was good and after the post-breakup bad ended. Never thought I would.
It was chemical, atomic even the attraction - physical and emotional. We were both damaged and needed each other. Co-dependency you can call it. I needed to give and she, well she needed a lot, most of which I could give her. Alas, young love is doomed to fail, lack of real world experience (read: real is not used sarcastically) or whatever other reason.
"If we only met at a different time"
Ugh, this makes me visibly ill to even write. Worst of the excuses for failed relationships.
Week on, week off as we broke up and made up almost simultaneously and that kept it going, filled some desperate disfigured need for adrenaline and not for support. When that phase was over, there was a brief 2 month radio silence where the silence of the night was not calm, but frantic with thoughts, feelings and the almost incurable desire to share them with her.
Some mighty impressive self restraint -eventually - and she calls. I am cold, rude and unappreciative of her effort - thank god. This was followed by a lot of self destructive behaviour on my and her behalf.
I like to believe I was being an asshole for both of our sake's, but a part of me thinks I was protecting myself and my ego from shattering repeatedly. Either way, had it not been for that incident, this long overdue end to a relationship that was once like a pair of wings lifting up both to bigger and better things and now was more like a swamp of infinite sorrow and grief would not have occurred - this way at least.
I'm glad it did.
Strangers in the night
Arghhhhh... I'm sick of this pompous self affection of faux-intellectual masturbation. You won't find it here.
*except the above*
Hopefully
I was many people, feels like lifetimes apart, reincarnated again and again. There was a time where it lost familiarity, where behaviour was predictable - but unfamiliar. As the evolution progressed it never lost meaning. Everything and everyone was a part of an equation and I had to pick my "tech tree." So I look around and see many proto-types: "life of the party" "stoner" "loner" "geek" "creative one"
How do you decide who you are going to be? Well for me it wasn't simple, but it was methodical. Try each of the above (and countless others) on their own, or by combination to see what they all feel like and pick the favourite one - sounds simple enough. The problem is that each dynamic group now has a different opinion and expectation of reactions and thoughts. S#@t.
So now I learn all about first impressions and how hard they are to change, because I believe you are what the people around you think you are. Usually.
Over this lost time, string by metaphorical social string this rope of who I am braids itself. Lovely.
*except the above*
Hopefully
I was many people, feels like lifetimes apart, reincarnated again and again. There was a time where it lost familiarity, where behaviour was predictable - but unfamiliar. As the evolution progressed it never lost meaning. Everything and everyone was a part of an equation and I had to pick my "tech tree." So I look around and see many proto-types: "life of the party" "stoner" "loner" "geek" "creative one"
How do you decide who you are going to be? Well for me it wasn't simple, but it was methodical. Try each of the above (and countless others) on their own, or by combination to see what they all feel like and pick the favourite one - sounds simple enough. The problem is that each dynamic group now has a different opinion and expectation of reactions and thoughts. S#@t.
So now I learn all about first impressions and how hard they are to change, because I believe you are what the people around you think you are. Usually.
Over this lost time, string by metaphorical social string this rope of who I am braids itself. Lovely.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
truth
This is the first time I wrote something down and kept it. Brutally honest, more than I am to myself.
Be gentle.
Be gentle.
Okay. I'm just gonna do it.
This is the first in hopefully many entries into what I cannot describe as anything specific. In here, there will be my thoughts, actions, re-actions and conclusions, but not exclusively. In other words – these are my doodles.
I lose days, perhaps weeks to this nasty habit of mine. Watching the sun rise and feeling a refreshing wave of energy just gives me a naughty feeling of shame. I have nothing to wake up for, not in the suicidal or depressed sense, but in the sense of which there is no difference between right now, tomorrow or next week.
The act of doing something has lost meaning along with the feeling of free time – which doesn’t actually exist – sucks me down to the lowest pit of my imagination.
Even now, as I so-called "try" to change back into what I was, way back when I had something. Anything.
Distance is a deceiving mistress, time meshes together. The real difference is how much you miss it, how long you think about owning it, whatever it may be.
For me, it's not about the actual achievement, I think. It's not about how I got there either, I'm assuming. Rather the way I feel right here right now. The impatience and self awareness of a little child.
As I look around, for memories, for thoughts and ideas, I can't help but think about thinking and how immensely boring it is. Theme of the day – grey.
And so I lie awake, thinking, dreaming, wishing and fantasizing about a girl. A girl to live for, die for, care for and go crazy for. I know she waits for me too, wherever she may be. The distance once more, not physically, but existentially tugging at my being.
These lost feeling rushing up to surface this barren template of an existence of which I wake up to nightly. The consistent dealings of such fruitless nonsense and inconsequential discussions methodically smear my window to life, to see, to remember what I miss most. The agonizing hope that something will rescue me from it, some sort of angel. Divine I am not, at best you can say I am not the devil.
I've hidden it well, but at what cost. The chance to change this damned structure lies within – I'm sure – but I fear to think of what will answer when I knock on this door that has stayed closed for so long. Or so it feels. Without truth there is no lie, therefore with this blinding white truth that I uncover and dust off, I may be led to lie.
I hope I wont regret putting this up.
was at a strip club - thought of you
It was so surreal, unbelievable in it's simplicity and awe-inspiring. There are no words, many thoughts - most of which were culturally inserted.
I went to visit Bear, took the train so we could go out and party - surprisingly something we've never done together. With no plans in mind, just a good mindset and a decent amount of sleep I get to his place where I'm awaited with a beer. Good start.
After a bit of random youtube clips we head out - where to? Fuck me if either one of us knew where we would end up. After about an hour or more of walking around with no good bar scene to find we come across this self proclaimed "Go-Go" bar. We take a look at each other and shrug, obviously over-thinking something we have been thinking of doing for months, but never got around to doing.
So we ask the unusually casual big bouncer at the front - reasonable price. Then we get inside our own heads, end up going to a bar next to it where we are incredibly rudely greeted by what can only be described as a hag. A fat-armed, short-haired, feminist wannabe who thinks she's funnier than Jim Carrey's asshole in Ace Ventura but came off as a gigan-ormous tryhard. We proceeded to drink our unreasonably overpriced beer at this 80's style bar which was suspiciously overpopulated with dudes, but not prettyboys - if it was a gay bar, it was a low-end one at that.
So we talk ourselves into going there - done! lets do it! Now sufficiently (or so I thought) lubricated with alcohol we go inside.
As we step inside, I'm underwhelmed and yet increasingly uncomfortable - we are clearly the youngest people here (22) So we situate ourselves on a bench right in front of the main stage and I start smiling from ear to ear at all the thong-bearing strippers littered across the place. The stage is empty, I glance to my left at a stripper (probably the classicly hottest one there) giving an unhealthily fat looking man a lapdance. Bear shouts to me over the strangely ambivalent background music: "I'm gonna get a lap dance from her!" and shamelessly points at the beauty on top of the beast to my left across the stage.
Shocked at his concerningly comfortable behaviour I can't get the words out of my mouth fast enough before I'm approached by a hot piece of stripper in a dental-floss g-string and a tiny bikini top. She places her surprisingly warm hands on my lap and simultaneously two things happen in the reverse order - 1. I am overwhelmed with shock at the thought of a lapdance from a stripper 2. I perpare for a totally normal situation of a hot girl hitting on me.
Offering a lapdance and "touch anything" my self-flattery denies me of the chance at saying something semi-coherent and I blurt a syllable never heard before in this half of the galaxy. I shake my head and she indifferently turns her head to Bear and raises her eyebrows - while still basically having my eyelids a mere inch from her nipples. Calmly, he disperses of her.
As the carefully sanitized pole is being rubbed, humped, climbed and slid down the surprise of the level of the performance continues to stun me to a state of near-euphoric stupor. My complete and utter concentration at the acrobatics and well... "theatrics" is abruptly broken at the sight of a mere mortal woman in jeans and t-shirt no less. As I notice her approaching from the corner of my eye the concern of interruption looms.
Surely enough my right leg is being grinded, my shock at this obliterated my motor and speech skills - yet again! "Get your knees together so I can dance for both of you" this evil temptress commands and I must obey so I move up closer to Bear. Throughout this ordeal I have no knowledge of what he was doing/thinking/saying.
This is abruptly interrupted by a "super-sketchy" (as was decided at the end of the night) angry-looking dude. He pulls her away and they start shouting at each other or so I assume - there was a main stage performance. I spot him coming at us with a scorn across his face. He shouts: "Did you pay her?"
What is the right answer here do you think?......................
I go with the truth and shake my head, he repeats his question and follows up with a glare. I stick to my head shake and he walks away. This is followed by a long break in which we blankly stare at the stage and occasionally I try to put my thoughts into words unsuccessfully. Finally Bear turns and asks me "You'll never guess what's the time" "2 guesses" I said, "10 minutes.... or 10 hours" I had no idea. As he had to get up early, we go home, but not before coming across supersketch and the double-lap grinder.
I went to visit Bear, took the train so we could go out and party - surprisingly something we've never done together. With no plans in mind, just a good mindset and a decent amount of sleep I get to his place where I'm awaited with a beer. Good start.
After a bit of random youtube clips we head out - where to? Fuck me if either one of us knew where we would end up. After about an hour or more of walking around with no good bar scene to find we come across this self proclaimed "Go-Go" bar. We take a look at each other and shrug, obviously over-thinking something we have been thinking of doing for months, but never got around to doing.
So we ask the unusually casual big bouncer at the front - reasonable price. Then we get inside our own heads, end up going to a bar next to it where we are incredibly rudely greeted by what can only be described as a hag. A fat-armed, short-haired, feminist wannabe who thinks she's funnier than Jim Carrey's asshole in Ace Ventura but came off as a gigan-ormous tryhard. We proceeded to drink our unreasonably overpriced beer at this 80's style bar which was suspiciously overpopulated with dudes, but not prettyboys - if it was a gay bar, it was a low-end one at that.
So we talk ourselves into going there - done! lets do it! Now sufficiently (or so I thought) lubricated with alcohol we go inside.
As we step inside, I'm underwhelmed and yet increasingly uncomfortable - we are clearly the youngest people here (22) So we situate ourselves on a bench right in front of the main stage and I start smiling from ear to ear at all the thong-bearing strippers littered across the place. The stage is empty, I glance to my left at a stripper (probably the classicly hottest one there) giving an unhealthily fat looking man a lapdance. Bear shouts to me over the strangely ambivalent background music: "I'm gonna get a lap dance from her!" and shamelessly points at the beauty on top of the beast to my left across the stage.
Shocked at his concerningly comfortable behaviour I can't get the words out of my mouth fast enough before I'm approached by a hot piece of stripper in a dental-floss g-string and a tiny bikini top. She places her surprisingly warm hands on my lap and simultaneously two things happen in the reverse order - 1. I am overwhelmed with shock at the thought of a lapdance from a stripper 2. I perpare for a totally normal situation of a hot girl hitting on me.
Offering a lapdance and "touch anything" my self-flattery denies me of the chance at saying something semi-coherent and I blurt a syllable never heard before in this half of the galaxy. I shake my head and she indifferently turns her head to Bear and raises her eyebrows - while still basically having my eyelids a mere inch from her nipples. Calmly, he disperses of her.
As the carefully sanitized pole is being rubbed, humped, climbed and slid down the surprise of the level of the performance continues to stun me to a state of near-euphoric stupor. My complete and utter concentration at the acrobatics and well... "theatrics" is abruptly broken at the sight of a mere mortal woman in jeans and t-shirt no less. As I notice her approaching from the corner of my eye the concern of interruption looms.
Surely enough my right leg is being grinded, my shock at this obliterated my motor and speech skills - yet again! "Get your knees together so I can dance for both of you" this evil temptress commands and I must obey so I move up closer to Bear. Throughout this ordeal I have no knowledge of what he was doing/thinking/saying.
This is abruptly interrupted by a "super-sketchy" (as was decided at the end of the night) angry-looking dude. He pulls her away and they start shouting at each other or so I assume - there was a main stage performance. I spot him coming at us with a scorn across his face. He shouts: "Did you pay her?"
What is the right answer here do you think?......................
I go with the truth and shake my head, he repeats his question and follows up with a glare. I stick to my head shake and he walks away. This is followed by a long break in which we blankly stare at the stage and occasionally I try to put my thoughts into words unsuccessfully. Finally Bear turns and asks me "You'll never guess what's the time" "2 guesses" I said, "10 minutes.... or 10 hours" I had no idea. As he had to get up early, we go home, but not before coming across supersketch and the double-lap grinder.
and then there was blog
She is crazy. Then again, they were all crazy.
Lets not start at the beginning.
Lets not start at the beginning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)