Thursday, March 24, 2011


thursday, march 24, 2011, 10:45 pm

            last night, i spuriously made a rather large list. spurious in that i did not plan on doing it last night. however, i had been thinking of doing it for some time.
            the list is comprised of groups of things that, when thinking of one thing in the group, it reminds me of all the other things in the group. and so on.
            i have referred to these groups in the past as ‘mental boxes’. i think that this is an appropriate expression.
            i was aware of at least a few of my mental boxes, but i did not think that i would end up identifying to many. it was enlightening.
            of the many things i learned about myself from constructing this list was that i seem to always be looking for my childhood somewhere. which is to say, many contemporary things in my life that could possibly find their way into or generate a brand new mental box, also bring along many things from my childhood as well.
             i do not find this alarming and instead i find it to be entirely natural—a very human thing to do. as i age, i cannot help but feel like my childhood memories—old, rarely every thought of, collecting mental cobwebs—are fading from known experiences into transient dreams. and this is sad. although it is not a surprise.
            even last summer seems only like a dream to me. which is to say: my past experiences—solidified and known—are quickly eroding from memory and into dreams—transient, wispy, and of an uncertain source and nature. and this is sad.
            i think i keep trying to find my childhood everywhere because—like most human beings who had a mostly pleasant childhood—i am finding that being an adult is too damned hard and too damned competitive and too damned painful all of the fucking time. i think i keep trying to find my childhood everywhere because—like most human beings who had a mostly pleasant childhood—it was the last time in my life that i can barely remember where i had no responsibilities whatsoever. and everything and everyone seemed to get along fine. and nothing hurt. and—so it seemed—most of the human beings who surrounded me at a predictable frequency seemed to be living solely for me. i was the unselfish center of their little universe. and everything was grand.
            and now everything about life beyond those years lives in the looming shadow cast by a pleasant past. there is barely anything to look forward to that has any long-term merit. no real human success. no love. no friendship. just money. slave. a job. slave. an education. slave. bills. slave. taxes. slave.
            i can get more out of my life than this, for sure. but it saddens me to think that stripped down to the bone—this is what life has become about. not love or music or art or dancing. none of the simple things anymore.
            none of the simple joys of being a child. clad in nothing but diapers. running around the den. no more. none of the home life in which an infant (that which i still am, of course) can—if it is lucky enough—find itself to be raised in: grandfather, father, television and chicken noodle soup. no more.
            this is not coming out right. i have been typing this mostly while sleeping. i will give it another go soon.
            still, i think it is ok.
concluding statement: there has got to be more to life after childhood than this. but i find that adults are just big babies anyway. and so, in that case, why in the fuck are we taking everything so seriously?
the real babies aren’t.
ga ga goo goo.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

last night on earth

it had been a fitting last night on earth, nearly two years ago. but prior to then—since the end—and thereafter, never the outcome i can now only dream of.
            oh well. it was still all—and always will have been—worth it.
            worth it.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


tuesday, march 8, 2011, 9:32 pm

            today i had an exam in my statistics class. it was easy. so i probably did awfully.
i left the exam just moments after another student—who i had never spoken a word to or heard speak anything—had left.
as i came up behind him, i said something along the lines of this: “it was either one of those exams that was so easy that it was a joke, or so easy that you must have fucked it up.”
i don’t remember precisely what his response was, and it’s not important. what is important is from the moment he opened his mouth, i knew i loved him.
it’s not a homosexual thing. quite the contrary, i am as straight as they come. however, at this point in my life, i am probably what kurt vonnegut referred to as a neuter: someone who is neither straight nor gay, and has no interest whatsoever in physical or intimate contact. i am open to that changing. though i have no opportunities. thus, intimate contact, after years of sparse opportunities—to me, in my apathy, loneliness, and entirely fucked up view of everything else that nobody else seems to give a second thought to—still translates into a $3.00 load of laundry and taking out the garbage. get it?
i digress.
i did not love this person because i am gay, for i am not. i loved this person because when he spoke to me, it sounded as though he had been waiting his entire life for someone he did not know to just start a conversation with him—regardless of the conversation’s premise. i might be wrong as to whether that’s how he felt. but that’s what it seemed like. and in my pity, i felt love.
i think i also felt it because i could tell in his voice that this may be a human being who had never wronged anybody, and who maybe had been fortunate enough to never have been wronged. he seemed pure and innocent—not because out of the perpetuation of ignorance he chose to be—but simply because life never offered him a taste of the dark side.
he reminded me almost of what we were all born into—before our hippocampuses started working and we remembered all the lousy things, which always seemed to be preferentially remembered over the wonderful things.
it was refreshing. it didn’t give me hope, but it gave me a smile. and it was nice.
i sound like a complete fucking nut right now. and i do not care. in fact, i hope that anybody reading this has the same chance that i had.
it was nice to see a human being that didn’t have shit all over him for once.