Monday, January 19, 2004
I am feeling more and more pressured by the state of the universe to consume more and more mind altering substances. This is not something that I have always been comfortable with, or even, something that I condone.
But I have to do something when it is looking more and more parent that the world will be ending soon. Why do I say that?
Could it be because my night terror of the second coming of an unstoppable Bush monster might be coming to pass?
No, not just that thing, but its kinda depressing anyway.
I saw an old man dancing at a club this weekend.
It wasn’t just that he was dancing poorly with people that had no interest in dealing with an old man on the dance floor with moves that were never in fashion in the first place attempting to work his angle on nubile flesh. It wasn’t just the fact he was staring at me for a good part of his little performance.
It was the realization that he would become me and I would become him in just a few short years.
And I am not really all that concerned about most of it. I have always been one that does not really concern themselves with being popular or fitting in. Those that know me are aware of the way I dress and the life I lead. I can quote comic book stats like I am the geek a nerd I am. I don’t want to fit in, I don’t want to be Indie, I just want to be myself, if you can’t handle it, I don’t want to deal with you.
Your not comfortable with me and who I am, that is unfortunate for you. Your shallow stupid ass can sit with the other conformists at the party of the spineless twits. I am attempting to be retro nor anything else you throw at me. I know a Retro, he is more than enough for this world thank you. I can go to clubs and none will talk to me, it shall be an endless parade of loneliness which will in turn, feed my writing.
I am using your apathy to make me stronger. I hope you like the result.
I have faith in a tomorrow when it all shall come to pass.
When my book is finished and I have said what I wanted to say within it. And I can get out of here and finally get away from all the madness and pain that is not being in control of whats going on. I just want a job and a life that I don’t hate so much. I think thats a bit more of a gettable goal that ruling the world or something.
I don’t want to be like the dancing old man, I don’t want to lack a place to fit in at.
What if I never find a person to dance strangely with or a place that I can go where everyone knows MY name.
And they would always be glad I came.
What if there is no point, no place of belonging, no greater tomorrow.
What if everything is like Santa Claus, a good idea in theory, but in the end its just a fairy tale people tell their children because they hate them.
But its not like I want to be like some of the other people on that dance floor. There was some girls there that could give strippers lessons. I am not making a judgement call based on what these women were doing, or questioning their moral character....but....I wouldn’t ram my crotch into the face of someone that I barely knew. Well, at least not repeatedly. It implies a closeness that I don’t think I would be able to come to in my first meeting with someone. I am more of a firm, but steady handshake or perhaps just a friendly nod, not full on groin contact.
It wasn’t the fact she was doing this to a random guy, she was doing this to every guy that walked up to her. They all got the same treatment of groin samwitch. Even though I am without the female relationship right now, I am willing to wait for non shank. But will I be able to hold out?
Will my strength of conviction when out over the calls of the flesh?
I would like to think so. I am not talking about sex really, I am more concered with a selling out of self. Will I go down the path of least resistance, even if its years from now?
Will I become what I hate to sell myself to people?
And if I am actually selling my stuff and living my life, will how I do it really matter?
But when does yourself stop being you?
When did the pop stars sell their souls to MTV and Clear Channel for big bucks and power?
Would I be aware of my not meness and thereby be bothered by it, and unable to get it back?
What if I can never get it back and I sold what made me interesting in the first place?
Jesus, I really need to stop thinking.