Oh Joy!
2000-09-02 || white girls grooving to the tune of ten dollars and a phone call from Mr Big Stuff

Friday night, again. Home by 1AM with a snicker on my face as usual. I can�t really think of a more pathetic situation than tonight. Again, I am reaffirmed that I will never be like any of them, I will never be completely happy around them regardless of what I just said two days ago or whatever, and they will never be on the same page as me. It�s like this: I�ve tried my best yet again to maybe pull, tug-of-war is a tough game though�especially when it�s 9,000,000 against one. All week I�ve been thinking about this. All week I�ve not really hung out with my friends much, running into them here and there, not really having any desire whatsoever to do it all over again. To go through the drills, to go through the hatred and frustration, and feelings that I want to scream. I can probably guess 4 things that happened after I left there tonight. In the dust a little. The dust settles. I sat there waiting for about ten minutes for these people to stand in a certain area outside so I could escape without anyone seeing me, and I had my chance and snuck around a different way. Predictability is so boring. Predictability is relentless nowadays. It comes on like a massive tidal wave in the form of Jack Daniels breath and fake smiles. Predictability is a weak trait that most people seem to have around here. It kind of goes hand in hand with conformity. Birds of a feather flock together. When I can figure out the allure, when I can figure out the reasoning behind it all, I�ll maybe have a little respect, for now though, laughs and laughs. I had a better conversation with myself in the car on the way home then I�ve had all week. It sounds like thunder outside, or perhaps fireworks. The last weekend of summer and everyone wants to get out. Everyone wants that one more weekend of fun and excitement. Maybe that cute boy will shove his tongue down my throat and put his hands all over my tits. Maybe that chick will finally suck my dick tonight. Yeah, something really exciting needs to happen baby. You�re not really doing anything right now but turning me around. Nothing really happening over here tonight. Even though I try with phone calls and letters and smiles and waves and all of that good shit. Not sure if you realize. I don�t want to sound conceited, I�m not. I just don�t think I should hand you this much right now. I think I�m going to sit up on the balcony and watch for a bit. It�s funny to see how you play. It�s funny to watch you have to pay. I didn�t pay a dime for any of this tonight. I didn�t have to tip anyone. This magnificent high I achieved this evening came from inside of me. It was okay to drive on this high. I swear to god I won�t die on you. I�ll be safe, just like you always tell me to do. I don�t care if the world thinks I�m a big fucking asshole. I don�t care of the world thinks I�m disrespectful. You�re never going to change. You�re never going to be over here. I don�t want to sound full of myself, but it�s the god�s honest truth. I wish I could just talk to you about this right now, right this minute, you would call me, and it would all come out for the first time. Nothing is written down yet. I can say I�m a mixture of happy and sad things in that building aren�t working out right now. I can say I feel like I could easily ignore every fucking last one of you for the rest of my life and I would still feel the same every day. I�d forget your voices. I�d forget your faces and expressions, your pants and shirts and nuances. It goes away in time. When you stop caring, things fade away forever. When I stop looking it will be over. When you realize that I just don�t notice anymore. When you all notice this, just run please. Don�t even worry about me, I�ll be fine. I need a big change, and I have yet to find a single person in this world that has the slightest clue of what I�m talking about. It�s not about the drugs�, and drinking and sluts and all that shit, it�s about ideas. New ideas. It�s about progression. It�s about improvising the day every day. It�s about overcoming things that let me down. It�s about jumping out of the way quickly when that brick falls out of the sky, it�s about not being interested. It�s about being burnt out at thirty. It�s about being ready to smash anything in the way. It�s not about me, it�s about respect and love in a whole. Nobody has any fucking clue at this point, and it�s again, hopeless to think it�s even worth it. How funny I lost my sunglasses this week, and I�ve had sunglasses on my intuition all week. I�ve had the shades drawn while I was blinded by blue light. Shooting stars. I saw one the other night and gave up on it just like I gave up on the horoscope. No surrenders, no white flags, and no giving up. The curtain closes, and we leave the stage. I saw 5 blonde girls I wanted to sleep with tonight. I just called and left a message for some reason. After all of these words, I still need that tiny bit of closure on the night. Just a pointless �goodnight� message. Just a gesture of me thinking still. Thinking about something I don�t know if I should be thinking about.

You were fucking confused. You really sucked me in, and spit me right out. Every guy in the world blames the girl with that: �She�s fucking confused, that�s all she is�� This was true though, wasn�t it? I thought you were this rescue team. Remember when your brother would leave for work we would go upstairs. You were nervous I was going to get drafted into the Gulf war. That was cute. I can�t come to the phone honey, I have to kill people for oil right now. I�ll be home late�don�t wait up. I found a box of letters from you the other day. A whole box of letters about �last night�, and �next weekend�, and �how good your arms feel around me� and it made me upset. I saw you recently remember? I hugged you in front of your husband(?). You seemed apprehensive. I made sure I didn�t make it feel that good. I would have, but you didn�t seem that interested. You must have been in that box of letters somehow watching me. Years of not seeing you, I find those and then run into you the next evening. Coincidence, or something deeper? Yeah right�I sort of missed how good your arms felt around me also. I sort of missed how good it felt to fall asleep with you and the Velvet Underground. Even though I can�t remember how I made you feel so good with my arms, I still think of you when I hear �Oh, sweet nothing� off of �Loaded�. Either way, it was good. I lost plenty of blood, but I picked myself back up, and it seems like you did, so let�s forget we had this conversation.

All you have to do is call back, and all these words will be erased from my memory�

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