C'est n'est pas une blog

que?

Just sitting here in the middle of the night asking myself two questions:

1.  Just how did I get so far down this wrong road; and

2.  What the fuck was I thinking?

I'm trying to come up with a few resolutions tonight.  How did I become so slavishly devoted to one woman?  I've got to get over myself, and get over this whole fantasy.  First resolution, buy a new guitar.  Second resolution, start dating.  This pining thing is for the birds, and as a subject matter it's pretty much exhausted.

still...

i wish it hadn't been
too late to talk to you
i wish i could have felt you next to me
like i wanted to
and you were my  love
like i dreamed you were
that pure perfect thing
not a cold cash demon
that would taste my
blood
for what it was
my heart for you
given
still
freely

sometimes...

sometimes you sit there
too late
and you pick up the phone
and you tell someone
you love them
and they tell you it's pretty late
and you say good night
and it isn't that pretty at all
it isn't that pretty at all
and you say
good night.

washed out...

almost balanced out
with sake
and vicodin
struggling to feel
nothing
watching blue chain smoke rise
to cover the moon
cover my eyes
and let me sleep
tired of the weeks
trying to remember
how it felt to touch you
instead of
pacing and waiting
for the phone to ring
a bell untolled
a bottle almost finished
a life
left behind

apres...

watching the moon
change
stuck with after
and what to do
fortified
with sake and vicodin
almost numb
and ready for
after

a little older, a little colder...

I used to be a cold man.  An exceedingly cold man.  I was dressed in so many layers, no one could see me.  Well, not no one...I have two children, and they were the only ones allowed to see me, or at least the good parts of me.

I spent the last year or so stripping away those layers.  After all those years, I showed myself to someone else.  It was a bad idea.

Now I'm stuck here, naked, exposed.  I'm trying to remember the layers, and put them back on as quickly as possible.  I think I'll become Chinaski again.  It's what I was, what I should have stayed.  Never get out of the boat.

I should have left a trail of bread crumbs...

When I was cold, nothing could touch me.  Nothing could break through the walls of ice I had arranged around myself.  I won't claim I was happy.  I felt nothing.  But the opposite of nothing in that universe is nothing.  And so the worst I ever felt was nothing. 

But when you feel joy, you also feel pain.  I had joy, sure.  But now I have pain.  And I'd rather feel nothing. 

It's been about two months now.  There were a few days of joy in there, one a week, but for the last few weeks, just pain.  I go to sleep with it, I wake up with it, it sits with me all day.  And I'd rather just feel nothing.

For now, sedatives are the key.  Regular small doses, enough to blunt my mind and push everything back below the surface.  Unfortunately, although this an easy fix, it's not much of a long term solution.  True, I am lucky enough to know someone who has a regular prescription and shares, but already I can feel it failing at times. 

The eventual solution is to remember.  Remember that I'm just a sack of meat.  I'm just an animal, no better, and most likely worse, than all the others.  Accept it, deal with it, know it, live it.  Evidently, it was what I was  made for...if I was made for anything at all.

That second conclusion is starting to garner most of my attention today.  As much as I like the notion of being placed here to be a prick, I don't even think I have that much of a purpose.  There really doesn't seem to be any purpose at all.  I'm just here, and I'm stuck here. 

And I can't die.  I've tried it, slow and fast - a handful of pills, or drinking and smoking myself to death.  I always end up still here in the morning.  So I'm giving up on that dream too.

I just have to remember how to be cold, all the time.

epilogue...

I managed to back out of my dinner plans last night.  Should I say managed, or did?  Who knows what the point to the whole exercise was...just to know that someone out there wanted me?  It seems a little irrelevant now.  Even if they wanted me then, in the end, I'd discover they no longer wanted me.  And ending up like I already felt wouldn't have been a boost, just confirmation.

back in the saddle?

Back at the pub again.  Haven't been here in ages, but after the first five minutes of "where have you been," and "the prodigal son returns," it was if I never left.  At least some things remain.

I only went because, well, I just needed to go somewhere...anywhere where there were people who say hello, and were friendly.  And the free drinks keep appearing in front of me.  And the shots - you can't forget the shots.

And she was right...evidently i'm somewhat attractive...there seem to be more woman than usual approaching me...must be that scent of despiration.  I haven't made the leap of going home with one yet, but I did let one pick up my tab there, and at the next bar...and buy me dinner.  I felt a little guilty at the end of the evening as I walked away, but not too much.

And there are the games I can play to amuse myself.  Tonight I won't pay for anything...either someone else will pay for drinks and dinner, or I'll take the emergency exit.  I guess sometimes I just need to know I still have the talent.

That, and calling the people in my address book...trying to at least pretend I have friends.  Unfortunately, it ends up like a bad retelling of that scene in The Matador - where he realizes it's his birthday and starts dialing.  And no one really wants to hear from him.

And who would want to hear from me?

I managed to make it home from the pub now, free tab, although I had 3-4 beers and 4-5 shots...I'm thinking a little music and then back out, into the breach.

...

Yes..you ask...the tab was taken care of.  The dinner, well, that is to be delivered...so I assume I will have to spend the balance of the evening fending off advances.  It happens.  I developed it pretty well by now, although, left alone like this I can't think of why I should resist.  I wait and wait, for love, although the rational reason eludes me.

Rational reason really has little part in it, though.

sake, part x...

"Watch out for that fucker..."

H.S.T.

For some reason, that line is sticking with me.  I was kind of hoping that fucker was me, but I really don't have the energy for a screed tonight.  Trying a little sake (well, maybe a lot) and perhaps that will boost my energy.

fade to beige...

The phone just sits there, mocking me with its silence.  I had been checking it every five minutes or so, to see if I had somehow missed her call.  I finally promised myself not to check it for two hours.  I sat here for an hour and a half before looking.    Then I saw it was locked up - and even if anyone had called, I wouldn't have known.  Which kind of sucks, since I'm back to checking every five minutes, just to make sure it's not locked up again.

I'm just numb.  I can't feel anything, can't taste anything.  Music sounds flat.  It's cold tonight, and cloudy.  Maybe it'll rain.  I just want to sleep.

What I really want is for the phone to ring.  But it doesn't look like it will.  So I'll settle for sleep. 

There is an art to extended sleep.  I've been sleeping so much, it's getting hard to sleep.  I managed almost 20 hours in the last 24.  Tonight, I'm doing it without drinking, but I think I'll be able to manage it within an hour or so.  I hope so.

How did I manage to fuck up the best thing that ever happened to me?