I kinda thought my last post was exactly that -- my last post here -- but I think it's not all of a sudden.
See, thing is, I'm not sad. I'm not depressed (at least I'll deny that.) I'm simply not anything. I guess you'd say if I was anything, if there was a word for what I am, it'd have to be "not".
Sure, all that death and loss and gonads and strife over the last few months may have finally been the tipping factor, but my last post seems to be coming across like Im leaving this site cuz Oh my god I just cant handle it anymore and I am running away
Oh kont-rare.
I feel like I can handle just about anything now. Like it just doesnt fuckin matter.
Morgans death fucked me up, yes. No question. I mean that was like 6 months after Nemo died, and a year or so after pretty much everybody I knew or cared about was gonzo. Outta there, 404, busy signal or landmine or wrong directions or a Denial Of Service attack or whatever and well when the Morgster died, well.... well, fuck. I love that dog.
Yes, present tense. Yes I still love that stinkin hound.
Stinky farty bad breathed sometimes grotesquely incontinent slobbery sheddy gonna fuck up your bed and rip all your sheets and I dare you to think about meeting somebody new and taking them home to this and everything you own will forever be covered in short little dog hairs and you are going to be late for work cuz I just dont feel like walking any faster than this nor do I really feel like taking a dump right now and I guess you should have taken me out earlier if YOU are so freaked out about being late and youre in such a rush hound.
But lately I just havent been sad. Not like I was in the past.
(I remember having some particularly dark moments in the old place, where Id be all like doin the dishes and Id pick up some fork or something that was her fork or perhaps just a fork that Id probably used one day to eat one of her roasts and suddenly be thrown into a marionetted puppet show replay of the end of that really bad 70s movie Endless Love starring brooke shields as she-who-used-to-be-known-as and Im thrown to my knees on the coffee stained linoleum in front of the sink filling up with suds, head all thrown back in feathered hair anguish like Im kneeling in some rainstorm in the dark and sobbing and holding that beautiful fork up to the 60 watt bulb all covered in fly shit at the end of my outstretched arm and Id be all like hyperventilating and shaking and slowly sinking lower to the ground,
huuu Huuuu HUU Whyyyyyyyyy?????!!!, finally collapsing into a fetal curl against the cupboards while the sink overflows and Im cuddling that greasy fork up to my chest and finally that beautiful and lemon fresh waterfall cascades down over my tortured )
Ok, maybe Im exaggerating a little. (but probably not much, which makes me kinda chuckle)
But I do remember being sad.
And Im just not sad.
But its like scary-not-sad.
Not sad, not mad, not happy, not excited, I just am.
(or wait, did I just say that I am not?)
Fuck, I dunno. No chance of figuring it out, really. I came back from Grams funeral, and that was pretty much it.
For a very short period of time there I thought I had some new perspective after her death. Like I finally got it a little bit. I was going to go full on hardcore into the relationship I was in with the most beautiful and perfect woman.. Wed met last summer and had been together in a ridiculously incredible way for like 10 months, but I was fucking that up by doing that thing:
That thing where I just sit here at home on my sofa staring off into nowhere with the TV off and maybe a couple of candles being the only lights for the room and not reading or really breathing all that much for the couple hours that pass before bedtime and my Cell phone is behind me making that special ring that Id assigned to both her numbers and somewhere inside me I recognize that its her calling again but I just cant get up and answer it. Nor could I return the call later when I sorta snapped out of it.
Anyways, Id come back Gram's funeral all thinking that I had this new outlook on life and I get whats important and Im not going to do that anymore, and Im going to be THERE for this perfect woman cuz she is so fucking worth it.
But then a couple weeks later I break up with her instead. Pushed her away from this for her own safety.
Endless Love, you know, all like Im grabbing her firefighter style, hoisting her over my shoulder and running her away to safety somewhere out there in the rain.
Stay right here, somebody will be right along. I say, all authoritative like with my hair black and slick and wet against my forehead, I look down and start to turn and lightning flashes and my profile is all harlequin and roman and rain is dripping off my chiseled chin as I turn away from her and I run back into the burning building as if I have more people to save.
Yes, I loved her that much that I wouldnt put her through this.
(I hope you are laughing.)
So yeah.. I suppose there is some possibility there that all that death had something to do with it, but I really dont feel like it does because I didnt come home sad.
Didnt come home sad for Gram. I was happy for her. Good for you Gram, right on.
Maybe in some way, loss has just lost its ability to get to me. Like Ive made a point to having nothing left to lose.
Nothing left to lose? No, thats not true. I got stuff to lose.
Another 10 pounds, maybe.
See, thing is, I'm not sad. I'm not depressed (at least I'll deny that.) I'm simply not anything. I guess you'd say if I was anything, if there was a word for what I am, it'd have to be "not".
Sure, all that death and loss and gonads and strife over the last few months may have finally been the tipping factor, but my last post seems to be coming across like Im leaving this site cuz Oh my god I just cant handle it anymore and I am running away
Oh kont-rare.
I feel like I can handle just about anything now. Like it just doesnt fuckin matter.
Morgans death fucked me up, yes. No question. I mean that was like 6 months after Nemo died, and a year or so after pretty much everybody I knew or cared about was gonzo. Outta there, 404, busy signal or landmine or wrong directions or a Denial Of Service attack or whatever and well when the Morgster died, well.... well, fuck. I love that dog.
Yes, present tense. Yes I still love that stinkin hound.
Stinky farty bad breathed sometimes grotesquely incontinent slobbery sheddy gonna fuck up your bed and rip all your sheets and I dare you to think about meeting somebody new and taking them home to this and everything you own will forever be covered in short little dog hairs and you are going to be late for work cuz I just dont feel like walking any faster than this nor do I really feel like taking a dump right now and I guess you should have taken me out earlier if YOU are so freaked out about being late and youre in such a rush hound.
But lately I just havent been sad. Not like I was in the past.
(I remember having some particularly dark moments in the old place, where Id be all like doin the dishes and Id pick up some fork or something that was her fork or perhaps just a fork that Id probably used one day to eat one of her roasts and suddenly be thrown into a marionetted puppet show replay of the end of that really bad 70s movie Endless Love starring brooke shields as she-who-used-to-be-known-as and Im thrown to my knees on the coffee stained linoleum in front of the sink filling up with suds, head all thrown back in feathered hair anguish like Im kneeling in some rainstorm in the dark and sobbing and holding that beautiful fork up to the 60 watt bulb all covered in fly shit at the end of my outstretched arm and Id be all like hyperventilating and shaking and slowly sinking lower to the ground,
huuu Huuuu HUU Whyyyyyyyyy?????!!!, finally collapsing into a fetal curl against the cupboards while the sink overflows and Im cuddling that greasy fork up to my chest and finally that beautiful and lemon fresh waterfall cascades down over my tortured )
Ok, maybe Im exaggerating a little. (but probably not much, which makes me kinda chuckle)
But I do remember being sad.
And Im just not sad.
But its like scary-not-sad.
Not sad, not mad, not happy, not excited, I just am.
(or wait, did I just say that I am not?)
Fuck, I dunno. No chance of figuring it out, really. I came back from Grams funeral, and that was pretty much it.
For a very short period of time there I thought I had some new perspective after her death. Like I finally got it a little bit. I was going to go full on hardcore into the relationship I was in with the most beautiful and perfect woman.. Wed met last summer and had been together in a ridiculously incredible way for like 10 months, but I was fucking that up by doing that thing:
That thing where I just sit here at home on my sofa staring off into nowhere with the TV off and maybe a couple of candles being the only lights for the room and not reading or really breathing all that much for the couple hours that pass before bedtime and my Cell phone is behind me making that special ring that Id assigned to both her numbers and somewhere inside me I recognize that its her calling again but I just cant get up and answer it. Nor could I return the call later when I sorta snapped out of it.
Anyways, Id come back Gram's funeral all thinking that I had this new outlook on life and I get whats important and Im not going to do that anymore, and Im going to be THERE for this perfect woman cuz she is so fucking worth it.
But then a couple weeks later I break up with her instead. Pushed her away from this for her own safety.
Endless Love, you know, all like Im grabbing her firefighter style, hoisting her over my shoulder and running her away to safety somewhere out there in the rain.
Stay right here, somebody will be right along. I say, all authoritative like with my hair black and slick and wet against my forehead, I look down and start to turn and lightning flashes and my profile is all harlequin and roman and rain is dripping off my chiseled chin as I turn away from her and I run back into the burning building as if I have more people to save.
Yes, I loved her that much that I wouldnt put her through this.
(I hope you are laughing.)
So yeah.. I suppose there is some possibility there that all that death had something to do with it, but I really dont feel like it does because I didnt come home sad.
Didnt come home sad for Gram. I was happy for her. Good for you Gram, right on.
Maybe in some way, loss has just lost its ability to get to me. Like Ive made a point to having nothing left to lose.
Nothing left to lose? No, thats not true. I got stuff to lose.
Another 10 pounds, maybe.
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
fukidunno:
pica o pica where r u
5lave:
Haha that's too funny. Yeah you missed a good one. The venue was amazing. It was worth going just to see the second (kinda mid floor thingy) and third floors of the Penthouse. the third floor was pretty cool! Hopefully they keep having it there.