mad drunk genius

I used to have all sorts of problems. Now there's just the one.

Tag: Facebook

There are already simulations of you out there & more to come

When I drank a lot more, and wrote slightly more, I used to sound like a religious paranoid schizophrenic, manic-depressive with delusions of grandeur and a handful of nearly obsessive associations.

——Humanity is a perversely well-beloved pustule on
——the face of God that’s appreciated for ripening &
—— soon bursting open in  cysty self-destruction.

——’I smell blood!’ the first shark yelled between his guffaw.
——’Why so do I!’ the second chortled.
——But it was just uterine lining.

I am tired & hot & sore and
staring at the ceiling because
the backs of my eyelids are
a view that provides no rest.

There’s an app to take your Facebook statuses and use them to write something about like you’d say. A bit of you, an exaggerated & often nonsensical but occasionally a reminder you’re not so hard to simulate as you might think.

Some of them aren’t anything like what I’d say, only because the grammar is off a bit.

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Never share your Netflix password; everyone dies alone

I noticed my most recent ex unfriended me on Facebook, so I deleted her Netflix profile and changed the password less out of retaliation than a desire to no longer see her name show up when I wanted to binge watch TV.

And the worst thing about it is not that I miss her or that this will impact my life in any meaningful way, except for some angry drunken texts from her I expect in the next few days.

The worst thing is that this is a parody of how a modern relationship goes, and the last ties that get severed are not meaningful face-to-face conversations or closure but discrete events in superficial electronic consumption.

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In the end, my eyes were dry but my chin was wet

I was getting out of work after another long but OK day & I’d been told about that Connecticut thing & how 20 kids had died, but I hadnt had any time to really think or care about & anyway, it’s my job to tell people on the street that everday 19000 kids dont make it to their 5th birthday because of things like diarrhea & getting bit my a mosquito, so I didnt think it was or could be a very big deal.

And on the way to the bar, because that’s what I do, I was putting my iPhone back in my pocket but it missed & hit the uneven rocky part of the pavement & cracked the front screen in a half dozen places. And I said, ‘Fuck,’ and got upset, but continued to the bar because now I had a proximate excuse for my drinking, so I was weirdly happy.

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