Someone once said, "There is no such thing as love, only proofs of love."
I've seen myself doing something, recently, which is rather fucked. I know I've done it longer. I have a very hard time believing in, or trusting, I suppose, love, unless it's attended to by sadness. Happy relationships just seem unbelievable, in a way. I mean, they're what the best works are made of, in most ways. I love romantic comedy. But still the great loves in my mind are Dido for Aeneas, Kierkegaard for Regine Olsen, I dunno... Nietzsche for God? I mean, Christ, have you seen my favorite movies? Not exactly cheerful.
I 'quit' my job at the cafe this weekend by not showing up. I got a few random calls from Cheryl, the wife of the owning pair. She irritates the hell out of me by treating her employees as children, so I didn't care. I've also been getting calls from Greg, the husband, who hates life much more and who I am closer to. He's asking if I'm O.K.. Telling me that he doesn't mind if I don't want to work there but that it seems so unlike me to just up and walk without work. Asking me if I'm in the hospital or if something bad's happened (the last time I saw him I had just gotten in a fight over the phone and he'd made sure I was alright). Tonight Chris, one of the people I hate the most in this area, and a co-worker who's some stake in the cafe, called me and, the fratboy that he is, told me he had my back in whatever is making me not come to work.
It's not only that I need proofs of love from my loved one's to feel comfortable that they're not just amused by me, but that I need prove to them that I love them, always. I have to take up less space in the bed, spend more money, cook more often. Theis is easy to take care of. Cooking makes him ecstatic, and though I want to smack him when he eats with his mouth closed, I feel the right prick whenever I'm short with him. It's hard to love this way without being resentful in some way, eventually. It's silly to resent another for your own behavior. There's just something so obviously harder about living the same life with another person. I've always been one to hide and live my own life as much as I can. Or rather, to not live my life at all.
Also, a startling admission. I think I'm in love with John Hawkes. I've only seen him in 'Deadwood', with which Theis is making me obsessed, and "Me You and Everyone We Know" and I think he's just fucking amazing."Right before I lit it I remembered, it's alcohol that burns up but doesn't burn, lighter fluid just burns, and then I thought, it's OK, it's better this way." not to mention "People think foot pain is a fact of life, but life is better than that!" The movie, also, was amazing. Christ, it was just breathtaking at times (though it had its faults).
It's one thing to know why you do something, and another entirely to know how to not. There was this kid I used to know who'd call me after school and tell me about the amazing blowjob he'd just given. The next told me of all the things she'd done before me. It wasn't malicious, but Christ, comparison is a bitch. I've just never been comfortable in situations where I care so much about something so specific. Even my fucking dog makes me feel worthless from time to time, and he can't even fake an orgasm...
I watched Closer every day last summer. There was a summer in high school where I did the same with Trainspotting. Sometimes I fixate on something that makes me feel a certain way, or something that expresses something I feel so much. I flirted with Love, Actually and with Eternal Sunshine but it was never quite there, or a bit too academic an emotion. I'm not quite sure of the movie for right now. My life, besides everything related to money, is better than ever, at the moment. I'm more in love than I've ever been with someone who's, apparently deaf, blind, and insane, because she loves me back (har har har). Most of the weird things that stop me from enjoying relationships just dissolved when Gang of Four game on the radio the first time we met. I'm doing good work; I'm almost done with college; I'm living with one of my closest friends. It's the fucking beginning of summer and, though I'm stuck in Jersey, I'm head-over-heals with the perfect girl, so who the fuck am I to complain? But then, the issue of money and 'art' ...
It's just such a dark room, with such sad music and so many boring people eating expensive food and acting happy. Such a tedious symbol. God damnit, I wish it was just a symbol. It's so hard to be 23 and published and to have done decent work, for a person my age, and to have absolutely no ability to live a better life. I just cannot, for all my efforts, find a better job or get out of debt or have more time to work. I needed to work at the cafe for all the money it afforded me, but I couldn't stand being such a servile little twat 20 hours a week. Waiting tables is a step below busking: you needn't even have a skill to do it.
I've seen myself doing something, recently, which is rather fucked. I know I've done it longer. I have a very hard time believing in, or trusting, I suppose, love, unless it's attended to by sadness. Happy relationships just seem unbelievable, in a way. I mean, they're what the best works are made of, in most ways. I love romantic comedy. But still the great loves in my mind are Dido for Aeneas, Kierkegaard for Regine Olsen, I dunno... Nietzsche for God? I mean, Christ, have you seen my favorite movies? Not exactly cheerful.
I 'quit' my job at the cafe this weekend by not showing up. I got a few random calls from Cheryl, the wife of the owning pair. She irritates the hell out of me by treating her employees as children, so I didn't care. I've also been getting calls from Greg, the husband, who hates life much more and who I am closer to. He's asking if I'm O.K.. Telling me that he doesn't mind if I don't want to work there but that it seems so unlike me to just up and walk without work. Asking me if I'm in the hospital or if something bad's happened (the last time I saw him I had just gotten in a fight over the phone and he'd made sure I was alright). Tonight Chris, one of the people I hate the most in this area, and a co-worker who's some stake in the cafe, called me and, the fratboy that he is, told me he had my back in whatever is making me not come to work.
It's not only that I need proofs of love from my loved one's to feel comfortable that they're not just amused by me, but that I need prove to them that I love them, always. I have to take up less space in the bed, spend more money, cook more often. Theis is easy to take care of. Cooking makes him ecstatic, and though I want to smack him when he eats with his mouth closed, I feel the right prick whenever I'm short with him. It's hard to love this way without being resentful in some way, eventually. It's silly to resent another for your own behavior. There's just something so obviously harder about living the same life with another person. I've always been one to hide and live my own life as much as I can. Or rather, to not live my life at all.
Also, a startling admission. I think I'm in love with John Hawkes. I've only seen him in 'Deadwood', with which Theis is making me obsessed, and "Me You and Everyone We Know" and I think he's just fucking amazing."Right before I lit it I remembered, it's alcohol that burns up but doesn't burn, lighter fluid just burns, and then I thought, it's OK, it's better this way." not to mention "People think foot pain is a fact of life, but life is better than that!" The movie, also, was amazing. Christ, it was just breathtaking at times (though it had its faults).
It's one thing to know why you do something, and another entirely to know how to not. There was this kid I used to know who'd call me after school and tell me about the amazing blowjob he'd just given. The next told me of all the things she'd done before me. It wasn't malicious, but Christ, comparison is a bitch. I've just never been comfortable in situations where I care so much about something so specific. Even my fucking dog makes me feel worthless from time to time, and he can't even fake an orgasm...
I watched Closer every day last summer. There was a summer in high school where I did the same with Trainspotting. Sometimes I fixate on something that makes me feel a certain way, or something that expresses something I feel so much. I flirted with Love, Actually and with Eternal Sunshine but it was never quite there, or a bit too academic an emotion. I'm not quite sure of the movie for right now. My life, besides everything related to money, is better than ever, at the moment. I'm more in love than I've ever been with someone who's, apparently deaf, blind, and insane, because she loves me back (har har har). Most of the weird things that stop me from enjoying relationships just dissolved when Gang of Four game on the radio the first time we met. I'm doing good work; I'm almost done with college; I'm living with one of my closest friends. It's the fucking beginning of summer and, though I'm stuck in Jersey, I'm head-over-heals with the perfect girl, so who the fuck am I to complain? But then, the issue of money and 'art' ...
It's just such a dark room, with such sad music and so many boring people eating expensive food and acting happy. Such a tedious symbol. God damnit, I wish it was just a symbol. It's so hard to be 23 and published and to have done decent work, for a person my age, and to have absolutely no ability to live a better life. I just cannot, for all my efforts, find a better job or get out of debt or have more time to work. I needed to work at the cafe for all the money it afforded me, but I couldn't stand being such a servile little twat 20 hours a week. Waiting tables is a step below busking: you needn't even have a skill to do it.
I thought I'd comment before sending you a random friend request.