Y’all Thought I Forgot?

It’s going to be a fast and fucked up week. I’m working twelve hour days every day from now until Sunday. Then one day off and then another three days on and then I’m going to my other brother’s graduation and then I’m going to a Tool concert.

I stopped meditating about two or three weeks ago, whenever Morgan showed up, because it’s hard to meditate in a house with two bedrooms, four people, and three cats. I think I noticed a difference. In any case everything seems more awful than before.

I stopped working out, too, on May 7.

I’m at work looking all fucked up, just wanting a drink and shit. I been drinking a lot at work. The girl I’m obsessed with only works one day a week any more, so getting through the work day is fucking difficult. I’m not even obsessed with her any more because I don’t see her. Out of sight, out of my mind, and all of that, to an extent. I’ve a lot of experience cutting people out of my life. Just moving on. Usually physically moving. Why let anyone get close? Just someone else I’m going to have to hide from.

But you know, I talked to the girl about the whole thing and she made me realize that, while we were playing perhaps dangerously close to a cliff, neither of us had done anything actually wrong. Well, I suppose I had done something wrong by not talking to Molly about the fact that I was falling in love with another woman, but you know what, we don’t even have time to talk these days. She works sixty hours a week now and she works during the day and I work during the night. That’s why I need a new job, you know, so we can see each other.

But anyways like I was saying, here I was all beating myself up about shit, because I was in love with this girl, but I remembered you can’t control how you feel, you can control how you act. I was all thinking in my head that we’re in some kind of sexually charged dance, me and this girl, and that was some kind of sin. Probably because as a super Christian back in the day, the only relationships I could have with girls were exactly this. I would have called this girl my girlfriend back in the day because we smiled at each other a lot and were both into each other. That doesn’t constitute a fucking girlfriend, for fuck’s sake. But there it was, hanging around on the back shelves of my mind, this whole box of bullshit about what a girlfriend is. That’s fucking dumb. No wonder I don’t have a healthy relationship with my wife, I don’t even know what a wife is!

I’m like a fucking guilt factory. Churning out the guilt. Like a fucking goat produces shit. What does a goat need to produce shit? Any fucking thing. A shoe. A fucking heirloom tomato. A bag of dicks.

You know why I’m a fucking guilt factory? A fucking super high efficiency guilt machine? I would have told you it was my parents. I would have told you it was Jesus Christ and the motherfucking bible. But you know why it’s fucking lying that’s why. Weak character, brought on by having no stressors. Only one artificial stressor, maintaining the fucking lie, man, is what.

Say I was to fall in love with this woman. I tell Molly about it and what does she say? Who fucking knows. Maybe we have a long talk about how we don’t fucking talk any more or have enough sex, maybe we modify our relationship, maybe we decide fuck it, I like you as a partner in life, I don’t give a shit about your emotions. Maybe we decide not to act on anything for now, because we’re both busy being broke as fuck, and put that shit on ice for a year, and if nothing changes, then we got to make some decisions. Who knows what the fuck we could even decide because we would both be strong people who knew each other, instead of me being some kind of weak ass bitch fucking creeping around like a depressed little crab.

Why do I curse so much? People asked me sometimes. Probably because I’m fucking angry all the time way down where I can’t even hear myself any more because I built this huge guilt machine to manufacture fucking lies all day to keep me from ever having to experience anything real.

Yeah, so anyway. Me and this girl are just chilling now. It’s not even a big fucking deal. I build it up like its a fucking world changing event, me liking this girl, and really it’s just that she’s super awesome and super hot and she’s attracted to me. Why does that have to be a big deal? Because I’m scared of myself because I don’t even know who I am, that’s why! Is that Molly’s fault? Is that Christianity’s fault? Is that Society’s mother fuckin fault? Is that my parents fault? Nah mother fuckers that’s my fault for lying my ass of for no reason all my life.

Oh shit now I’m going to feel guilty about that!

Haha nah I mean I could, but guilt doesn’t come from taking responsibility for your actions. Guilt, at least the kind I feel, the destructive kind, comes from a kind of self-censorship who’s aim is to keep you down, crammed down inside of a fucking shell so that people will accept you without any effort on their part or your part.

Unlike dumbass indulgent guilt that comes from overthinking and lying to yourself, taking responsibility for your actions empowers you.

Yeah so anyway I meditated and worked out today.

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I am so angry that I am going to say Fuck so many times

These fucking assholes. God damn I try to be a fucking tranquil person and like mother fuckers but the truth is I fucking hate almost everyone. I can’t stop hating them because they’re fucking stupid fucks. Fuck them. God fucking damn it how I hate them almost all of them.

I was just now riding my bike home from a bar, and there were a bunch of people there who don’t give a fuck about anyone and they are mean to people, and they are also stupid and they suck. I hate almost all of them. But I was sitting next to someone that I really like a lot who I like even more the more I get to know them and we had a great time even though all these people who were not only self-absorbed the way that I am, they were self-absorbed without even realizing it. It’s like fucking George Patton said about General what’s his face in that movie, “I know I’m a prima donna! I admit it. I just wish he would!” Motherfuckers so damn stuck up their own ass they don’t even realize someone else is talking. They don’t even realize other people can talk. Fucking hell mother fuckers please shut up for a second.

And so we were having a great time, and then we left. And here my ass is riding the fuck home on a bike and I’m almost the fuck home, like three seconds away, and I catch a light, son of a bitch, and I stop and this mother fucker honks at me from behind.

Now I hate mother fucking bikers like they’re the god damn plague because they are. I thought when I got a bike everyone on a bike was on my team now. It’s us against the cars! We’re saving the earth and shit. Hell no, shit ain’t like that at all. Almost everyone on a bike is an asshole and act like you aren’t on a bike right the fuck next to them and can’t fucking bite their ear lobe off and cut you off actually cut you the fuck off while you’re on a fucking bike! And all kinds of malicious dumb shit that no one ever needs to do and they just fucking do it and why? Fuck knows why those fucks just do it. Because they’re fucking people, I guess, and I don’t know but people lately seem to be really fucking up my day.

And it almost feels like some middle school shit like listening to Nirvana, like oh my god no one else is cool no one understands me but fuck I understand that shit, I know I am the same as everyone else, I am a person. But why is it that no one else gives a fuck about me, or even tries to pretend. I try to pretend I give a fuck about people. I do a damn good job of pretending I give a fuck about someone, but everyone else, almost, is willing to fucking just run into mother fuckers on the street as if they are the only people on earth walking on a god damn street. They don’t even try to pretend.

But anyway, so I hate bikes and I know cars don’t like being behind bikes and shit, I mean fuck it sucks trying to drive around bikers, even nice ones, you wouldn’t know because you’re in a car and they’re not going to cut you off unless they’re super assholes and some of them are. So I understand, being behind a bike is a real bitch.

But fuck Jesus Christ it’s 1 o’clock in the god damn morning and I’m riding home in the right lane and the left lane is completely open and a mother fucker rolls up behind me and honks. Well guess the fuck what. We are both rolling up to a red fucking light. We can’t neither of us fucking go, you fucking bitch ass mother fucker behind me, so fuck you. And you’re fucking honking at me? Fuck you, I fucking hate you you piece of shit.

And they’re honking and you know what, I don’t even fucking hate them, I’m like, ah, they’re honking because when the light turns green they don’t want to be behind me. Fucking hell, I’d probably feel the same way, even though I wouldn’t fucking honk because I’d pretend to understand that this mother fucker on a bike was another human being with a family and desires and a penis or a vagina and some fucking hair on his head and we all got to get through this dumb shit together so why would I ever be like “Hey bitch I’m in a car so honk honk mother fucker.”

But nah, I understand, I don’t give a fuck, mother fuckers are honking.

Well what do you know but I hear, “Excuse me.”

I’m like, thinking oh this mother fucker just wants to know how to get to Dunkin Donuts or some shit.

Well it’s this old drunk bitch in the seat saying “Excuse me.”

And I’m like yeah I just served a bunch of you looking motherfuckers at the bar, and you all were assholes to me but it’s all good, I’ll tell you how to get to Dunkin Donuts, why would I withhold that information just because you happen to resemble a bunch of fucking people that I hate?

Well, this bitch says to me, “Excuse me. Excuse me,” and I nod and she says, “Please pay attention. Just pay attention, please.” As if to say that she really cares about me, and that I’m fucking up right now.

Oh fuck that really pissed me off. What a bitch! I was just riding home, the whole time I was thinking about this person that I was hanging out with and how we were having such a damn fun ass time and shit, and now she’s the only fucking thing that I can think of. “Please pay attention. Thank you.” Are you fucking kidding me you bitch! I fucking hate you! Who are you to say some shit like that, like I’m not fucking Genghis Khan out this bitch, like I won’t slice up your ventricles and saute them bitches to garnish my mushroom soup. Fuck you bitch I fucking hate you. I’m fucking riding home you bitch in a fucking minivan driven by your drunk cohort. You’re drunk bitch, get off the road, go sleep in a fucking lake. God I fucking hate you. God fucking damn it why can’t motherfuckers let another mother fucker live once in a while. Why go fucking other people’s whole fucking nights up. And yes I hate myself for letting one dumb bitch fuck up my whole night, but I can’t seem to change. I fucking hate the whole fucking world, except for some people who at least pretend to be nice.

Just fucking pretend, even if you hate everyone, just fucking pretend that you don’t. The worst thing is that these fucking fucks think that they are nice people. They walk around and say well I’m a nice person! The fuck you are. You are a fucking asshole who destroys days, and you know why you are, because you don’t realize that other fucking people exist. You never once think about other people. You fucks. I hate fucking hate you. God fucking damn it, and you know what I do to people I hate? I say nice things to them. I try to include them, to make their lives less fucked up because obviously no one likes them and they have no friends so their lives are a fucking tragedy and I try not to add to that. Do they do anything in return? Why yes, they do. They act a fucking fool and stick their dicks in my ass. Ah fuck I hate them so much that I want to stick my own dick in my ass and eat a cheeseburger and never see anyone ever again.

I Just Wanna Say This

Well, spring is the mischief in me and in the world so it seems. That is all.

There are so many colors outside now. And the whole week is supposed to be nice, nice, very nice. Yesterday was cold and wet and I took the bus to work instead of riding the bike. Big mistake there. The bus was late getting here and then I ended up taking a cab back from work because the next bus was in 96 minutes. 96 minutes. How does that even work?

That reminds me of a newish thing I hate. It’s funny that I hate it because people say it when they hate or don’t understand something. I hate when people say, “Really? REALLY?” Everyone is at it now. It makes me want to say, “Really?” to them for saying “really.”

The bus situation would have been a perfect occasion for me to say “Really?” And that’s why I thought of the fact that I hate when people say that. Recently Leo from Zen Habits wrote a post about anger stemming from selfishness. Like if you get mad at someone for doing something then you’re just imposing your expectations on a world that obviously doesn’t conform to your expectations even half of the time. In light of that of course I’m just being childish when I expect the bus to come more than once every god damn hour and a half.

Yesterday when I got to work I was like, “Shit man I left my house at 9:30 and just got here at 10:30.” And this new dude at work says, “Well I left my house at 8:30.” Well I’m like shit why do you live so god damn far away? Because this mother fucker drives to work. I’m like damn man you practically decimated the ozone on your way into work every morning. Haha but of course we’re all at work on that one, or maybe it’s a conspiracy. But anyway, I guess you could counter by saying well shit the economy is such a bitch that people have to drive two hours to get a restaurant job! To which I’d say bullshit. The economy is depressed as Eeyore out this mother fucker that’s true, but restaurant jobs are everywhere. But maybe I’m lying to everyone. It did take me a while to find this one. And the general manager drives down from New Hampshire every day. I really don’t think it’s necessary but I could be wrong. Anyway if I had to drive two hours to get to the nearest job, you know what I’d do? I’d fucking move! AKA if I didn’t have any money I’d sleep in the employee bathroom. Fuck driving two hours to work every day.

Yeah but anyway. What the hell was I talking about in this bee-itch. Oh well it’s pretty obvious to certain readers that I have had a lot of coffee today. I try to get down on coffee, like I try not to drink it. I don’t know why, I hear bad things about it and I have a fear of addiction. And GF is definitely addicted. Not crazy addicted but she needs to have it every morning. So just a normal American. But to me that’s scary. I am not reinforced by that. I read a blog post somewhere about how coffee works, some blog about keeping your health or something…shit how did I even find that blog? But anyway it just blocks the chemical that triggers your body to go to sleep from getting into your brain somewhere, so in essence it doesn’t do anything for you, or that’s what the post was trying to posit. And I agree with that from a purely materialistic standpoint. And I usually try to think of things in purely materialistic terms. I have been thinking of cutting that shit out…materialistic thinking that is…but I’ll talk about that later maybe.

But anyway, when I drink too much coffee I feel really great for a little while. Maybe I do crash later and that’s why I am afraid to drink to much of it. But you know what I do when I don’t drink coffee? I crash the whole day. Ok no I don’t crash all day. I just stay at the same level all day. Maybe I’m bi-polar.

Here I found that blog post about caffeine.

Hey while we’re talking about other people’s blogs, here’s a reference:

Q: What do you say to somebody you just murdered for talking to much?

A: Well you’re DEAD now. So SHUT UP.

Oh good Christ that is some funny shit right there.

Hoo damn well it’s nice as a bitch outside and I am sitting in here like a mad man. I was rereading Kurt Vonnegut’s Man Without a Country. It gave me so much joy to read it. I feel everything that he says. The world is so fucked so let’s all laugh and dance, he says, and you can really get behind it because he is a very kind person and he never says fuck or shit and he’s smart and old and wise, even though he’s DEAD now.

Ah but it made me think maybe I should just stop reading new books and just reread the ones I’ve already read that were really good. I think that would be a satisfactory way of avoiding the feeling that I’m missing out on everything.

I’m listening to Charlie Parker now because I read most of Blues People about three times but I still haven’t gotten all the way to the very end. I’m like ten pages away and I put it down to read something exciting I saw at the library. And I’ve got this damn book from the library that will probably make it impossible for me to take new books out since I’ve had it for like three weeks past the due date. I always do that. I don’t see any reason for making a special trip to the library and I haven’t been by there so the book just won’t get returned I guess. But there’s a part of the book where he quotes from an earlier book of his, Cat’s Cradle and he says something like “There was a lot of suffering and misery so I made up lies so that everything would seem to have meaning and everyone could live in peace and happiness.” Something like that. And of course that’s the fake guru Bokonon saying that about Bokononism, which I’ve talked about before.And anyway it’s making me rethink materialism. If I could just convince myself of the lies maybe I could also feel fulfilled.

Well I could go on about whatever now. But I guess I’ll keep this to a somewhat readable length.

Nothing That I Can Think Of

It took a long time to catch up on all you’ve been writing. You guys write a lot. But it was fun. Shit I didn’t think it would take five hours. At least I was doing my laundry at the same time. GF will be out of school soon and it’s back to the god forsaken grocery stores. And Target. To get paper towels and toilet paper. And a bike tire. Fuck it. I was going to try to shop local, but I’m too lazy. And so the world will end in fire.

My bike’s been busted for a week but I am too lazy to go to the bike store and get another tire. Besides I am afraid of those guys. They will probably laugh at me.

My lip hurts. Last night I had a dream that my best friend who I don’t talk to any more who’s in Afghanistan was here and we were in some kind of apartment complex with many floors. We were trying to figure out a puzzle, like a fucked up crossword, and if we didn’t figure it out it was sure death for everyone. And there was another annoying guy with us, fucking the whole thing up. He said he was trying to solve it, too, but we knew he couldn’t, but he wouldn’t get out of the way. We went downstairs and there were some rich white guys in a truck and they flashed a gun at us when someone said something disparaging. I knew it was going to happen. I ran for cover and heard the shot and knew there was a gun in my car, which was next to where I was hiding. Then that annoying guy popped out with my gun, it was a little revolver. He shot at the guys and then things got tense. I knew those rich white dudes were just shooting to scare us, but now someone was going to die. I cursed the bastard and suddenly there was a rifle in my hands and two girls in my car. And I didn’t know if my best friend was dead yet, so I ran up to the white guys’ car and shot wildly. Then there was no one in the car and a tall black man in a military uniform was pulling a sidearm and I knew he was going to kill me. So I shot him in the shoulder. I didn’t know how to cock the gun, but I figured it out as he slowly gathered himself to raise his gun again. And then I shot him in the heart. He looked annoyed and like he was going to die, but he gathered his strength as I cocked the gun again and I aimed for his hand, and I shot that.

Then GF woke me up by asking me if I was tired.

Switching between worlds like that is so jarring. I try to tell her that it is, but she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t have dreams, or anyway she can’t remember if she does. She never understands why I wake up feeling weird or scared.

Dreams are fucking weird. Especially because to me they are so real.

And I don’t know if they end and it just seems like I wake up right away, always breaking them up weirdly, or I’m always waking up mid-dream, which is why I feel so what’s the word ah shit I can’t think of it but you know what I mean. Disoriented.

But anyway. Shit. What’s going on around here? Today GF forgot her chef coat, and we were halfway down the street to the train when she remembered, so I ran back while she kept walking, and then caught back up with her. That was too much running in the clothes I was wearing. It’s pretty windy out there. All the snow’s gone but the scraping woman was out again. Her companion has not been around.

I’m almost to the end of Great Expectations and I’ve pretty much forgotten or perhaps never read all that happens after this point. I think I read it all but it was probably on an all nighter in high school.

I’m reading Proust and the Squid and it’s really interesting. It’s just about reading. And it makes me want to read Proust. But I feel like I should learn French if I’m going to do that.

Watching Midnight in Paris has really made me want to read more Hemingway. And reading Proust and the Squid, since it’s so dense I end up skipping through the middles of some sentences, not on purpose but just because I want to finish, even though I go back and try to reread and get every word, well anyway it made me think of Elmer Leonard’s quote, “I leave out the parts that people skip.” As much as I like wordplay, I think I’m more of a story guy. Just clean writing thanks. But then again I’ll change my mind tomorrow.

Anyway, trying to be more “manly” and have an effect on my environment. Trying to believe I can change things or that life matters. Trying to grow up. Just like always.

When I walk around the city and people walk into me like I am a ghost, it happens all the time, it usually gets on my nerves more than most things. Like Christ people don’t you know how to walk? If there are four of you coming towards me, one of you needs to move to the back so I can get through! Jesus fuck and those god damn strollers! Fucking hell! It’s a baby not a license to plow humanity under like a cornfield. Jesus mother fucking Christ I swear I’m going to get a stroller and put an old time iron ass cow catcher on the front of that shit and mow motherfuckers down!

Alright so yeah that shit really gets on my nerves because I just think people should respect each other. But I’ve started thinking that I’m at war with everyone. Like there are two sides to this war, considerate people and inconsiderate people. I’ll always be considerate, because that’s what side I’m on, but if those bastards on the other side want to be inconsiderate, well I shouldn’t expect any different. That’s what makes it maddening, is that you go out in the world just expecting other people to be considerate. If you expect them all to be inconsiderate because they’re at war with you, well you’re not surprised. And surprisingly there are some other people on my side of the war, and we smile as we pass each other, leaving each enough room to comfortably walk.

I’ve also thought this way about customers and older people. Like I heard this one guy talking at a party I was working, he was talking to this young architect about how he doesn’t understand why young people don’t want to work. He was commending this young man for having a real job instead of just opting out of life and so on. He said it drives him crazy that young people don’t want to work. Well little did that fuckface know but the guy serving him bruschetta on a stick was an out of work architect. Guess what mother fucker people want to be architects but they can’t because no one’s building shit right now!

But of course that guy is probably totally a good person with a wife and kids and struggles and such. He probably would be fun to have dinner with. Maybe. Probably. And on top of that, the server I’m talking about who’s also an architect, well he’s basically a pretentious asshole and I hate him. Not really. He has a good heart and he’s interesting and fun to hang out with. But he’s also pretentious and an asshole and I can see why some people hate him. Or would hate him if they didn’t know him.

The incident made me think of this really awesome blog post on Rarasaur, which was also probably the first inspiration for me to start thinking this way.

But when I think that we’re at war, it helps me to manage my expectations and be more like myself instead of getting really angry on the inside. It’s really not a generational thing, it’s just that this guy and the generations and generations of humanity before us have helped hold up an idea of what society should be that in the end might not be sustainable, and is certainly irrational, and the only logical response to an irrational world is non-participation. Or at least it’s one logical response.

So I think to myself, that’s ok, he’s on the asshole team. Of course he hates me, we’re at war, and I’m on the not-an-asshole team. But just like the Germans and the French that one time on the battlefield, if some shit happened where we could temporarily forget our uniforms, we could sit down and enjoy a beer together.

But yeah, non-participation. I was thinking maybe fuck it, if this is the way the world is, I might as well act like it matters. Even if it really doesn’t, I guess it’s a little like what I was telling Matt on his blog, about induction and probability and shit. The probability of anything happening, really, philosophically, is 50/50. Or at least that’s what David Hume postulated. And it makes sense if you think about it. Like the coin toss and what not, if you flip it 100 times, 50 times or so it will be heads, that’s true. But say you flipped it ten times and all those times it was tails. Well, now you’ve got to believe that this time it will be heads. I would guess the probability of it being heads at that point would be about 91 percent or some shit. But think about the coin. It doesn’t know it’s been flipped ten times and the universe could give a shit less about you flipping a coin so it’s not keeping track. There is nothing keeping track of your flips so there’s nothing that really makes this particular coin toss 91 percent likely to be heads. Nope every time you flip the coin it’s a 50/50 chance of being heads or tails. That is unless you take into account that it also has as much chance (and this is taking a philosophical bullshit leap) to burst into flames or become sentient or ask you “do you want some more?” like that machine in The Fifth Element. Anything could happen, but we don’t really believe that because we believe the past is a predictor of the future, which according to Hume is the logical fallacy upon which science is built.

But anyway, shit what was I saying?

Oh right, non participation. So Hume was a fucking crazy ass for thinking of this shit and articulating it and what all but in the end even he had to agree that a person can’t live without basing his idea of the future on his idea of the past. I mean you can’t live a fulfilling life if you walk around continually conscious of the fact that the sun is just as likely to rape you in the ass as it is to rise tomorrow morning. So the point is to just be aware of it as a logical construct and then just go with it, if it works. Which is somewhat the same as functionality…or shit what is the real word for it? I don’t know but it’s what Newton and those fuckers thought about when they made their theories. Maybe the basis isn’t true, but the end result is true. Maybe calculus depends on something irrational and non-existent, but it accomplishes the desired end so that’s fine.

So probability is bullshit but in a coin toss I’d bet twenty dollars that the coin that’s been tails 10 times will be heads on the eleventh. And if I think this way about that, well shit, I might as well deal with the world as it is. Like some kind of rationality is possible. Like change does matter, however futile it is in the long run.

Ah but it’s so hard, since the world is so farcical. And life is a joke and death is the punch line. Working within the system to change the system. Shit I don’t know. The system is fucked with a capital K but then again, maybe that’s a bunch of horseshit. Maybe there is no system. Maybe the internet is a construct. Maybe they’re after all of us.

But really, you can’t save the world by changing your light bulbs and not going to target.

Mother Theresa said we can’t do great things, only small things with great love.

Be the change you want to see in the world and all that.

But even that was a simpler time.

Or just as fucked up, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe everything that happens has to happen.

Alright well I’ve stopped making sense about a thousand words ago. But what I’m trying to say is that I think I’m going to try to act like the world is a rational place. I’m going to try to make a small difference in it. I’m going to stop thinking that everything is futile and meaningless and just pretend like it isn’t. Just for the hell of it. What have I got to lose?