mad drunk genius

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

Tag: love

You’ve loved this much before & know how it ends

Knowing & behaving are cousins, but only
kissing cousins. To be fair, well, we already lost.
——Whores know better than to kiss on the
——mouth. That’s how you mix up work & love,
——esp. when both are pleasurable. But I havent
——learned that yet, or ifI have, I cant
——quit doing it. You cant come back.
There is inside me a powerful critic, good & useful
& worthwhile when pointed at a great many things.
But at myself, in a depression, it is nothing but a
magnificent rot, spreading horrible into everything, esp.
what I love. The peculiar genius is to connect all
that makes me happy back to some triggering incident of
unhappiness. ‘Your grandmother is dying & you’re too
old to be enjoying cartoons.’ ‘Your family is in pre-mourning,
and you dont even bother to tell them about those you
love or why.’ ‘Everything you write is embarrassing,
not just too you but anyone who is connected to you.’
——Your happiness is no less worthy.
I dont see how ‘I ruin people’ is a good addition to my
resume, no matter how accurate it is. She knew better.
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You’re never really dating, just sharpening knives for your future ex

Youth is an experiment in disappointments. Youth is trusting stupidly in the unwitting hopes it turns out well for you against odds you don’t know or don’t believe.

Maturity is the accumulation of aches, not least among them the knowledge that love sours. All sweet wonderfulness felt prior disappears but not invisibly, because like Newton’s Third Law, any affection once gone turns to hate, and so all that you once trusted in a person will be turned against you.

They love you now; they’ll hate you then. If you agree happily to a sex video while mutually raptured, the hell of their solitary relationship confinement ought to make you fret and worry.

I don’t know how relationships work except by this fantasy, and the fantasy is not sufficient to preserve most, even so.

Maybe that’s fine or proper or necessary. Some small portion can be jettisoned off into bliss, or workable hard work, and the rest of us are excised like pus filled infections to torture one another, mostly, till we find someone else poisonous enough complimentary to be antiseptic to our worst impulses.

It’s OK. I have few motivating impulses, but the natural rest of my own misery is one of them. I’ll make no one happy beyond the temporary, but I’ll help a lot of folk learn their future lessons well.

I’m terrible boyfriend material, and I’m non-existent marriage material, but as future ex, I’m tough to beat.

Piss in my bed, piss on my life

On a Friday, I lost my job & with it my healthcare.

On Monday, I learned that my longterm ex had been sleeping with my housemate, and that his infidelities in their relationship—and her complaints about him doing so as her direct superior—led to his firing & her continued mental breakdown.

On Wednesday, I learned my teeth are in need of much attention that will need dental coverage I probably can’t afford.

Thursday morning I awoke to find a sexual partner had drunk herself to excess & pissed herself in her asleep (again).

Thursday afternoon, a woman who’d just gotten out of a break-up let me know that when she wanted to hang out with me, she had no sexual interest implied.

Very little in this actually related. All of it feels like it is.

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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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Ninety percent of self-control is having something to get up for in the morning

June 2, 2016
Being an asshole is like halitosis.

——Your essence projects farther than your breath.
Learning who not to date is like riding a bike
& people’s advice only matters so much.
——Politics is joining people you can stand
——to stop the people you cant.
Franchise restaurants seem like safe bets till
you eat at one.
——I dont know when I got antisocial.

June 11, 2016
The politics of spite & purity mean you’re OK to hate
something without further examination, but any support
will be torn apart if it isnt perfect.
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It’s really hard to realize you’re behaving like an asshole in real time

May 27, 2016
‘I love you’ is more often a brag than a promise.
——Everyone is insecure, has low standards, & wants to fuck
——someone who’ll hold them & say, ‘It’s all right’ afterwards.
These are things sex ed ought to teach, along with
‘Learn to go down & like it’.
——It’s strange that a person can be comforted by
——the thought that descendants or evidence of
——their lives will live on in the minds
——of some foreign intelligence.
It’s strange choker necklaces came back into fashion,
but no stranger than my erection on noticing them.
——It’s uncomfortably difficult to avoid propositioning
——the bartender while drunk. This is the patriarchy.
An amazing, outwardly underwhelming
superpower would be to have an honest &
accurate opinion of yourself. But then it
might also drive you insane.
——It’s really hard to realize you’re behaving like
——an asshole in real time, even sober.
If I piss in a urinal & there’s only a toilet next
to me, someone is embarassed to see the back side
of me at 10 feet away. Add a second urinal & they’ll piss
10 inches away, cock in hand.
——Oregon State Beavers. That’s the joke.

May 28, 2016
I dont know why I feel the way I do.
(‘Maybe no one knows.’)
——She is calling in her favor, the promise
——made of honesty. I’ll give it to her altho
——I know she hates me & will hate more after.
I (somehow) think I’m deserving of sympathy & understanding,
that I am a victim, for being incapable of supressing
my desire to victimize others but not acting on it.
——This line of introspection will have to migrate
——to a different medium.

The painful flavor of nostalgia

May 2, 2016
The trouble with romantic partners is
I see them as a burden rather than someone
to unburden myself to.
——A walk in the park & a bus ride thru part of
——the old neighborhood reminds me of what used
——to & cant be any longer.
Love I used to have is irrelevant now.
——It’s the painful flavor of nostaliga.
There’s still road constructions; that hasn’t changed.
But it seems like all the houses & who’s in them has.
——‘This used to be’ means one thing
——in photographs & another in mem’ry.
‘I dont live here; I just come for the chicken.’
——The city does actually feel different here.
——It’s the hills & the place of the horizon.
Eat, eat, eat. I’m a machine for consuming
but something broke

May 12, 2016
American cheese clumped on the power station wall
Gnats swarming in the wet soil of a potted plant

Love has many homonyms

——I dont know anyone but myself
——& the images I make of others.
All images are hallucinations & all love self-love.
——Sex is masturbation with yrself.
I keep expecting to see her car disappeared.
But then I never expected she’d come.
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Alcoholism is a meritocracy.

The night give up the morning when the birds say.
Dawn is a formality only.
——Non-human persons make sense to me.
——Human non-persons, too.
——An acorn is an oak but not a tree.
——A dolphin neednt thumbs for empathy.
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My body is a temple, but all that’s left is the wailing wall.

When I trip, I try to find a way to see God, but
usually just catch glimpses of the devil.

I am the same person  I was as a child tho no atom, idea or possession remains as it was.
Identity is same-lifetime reincarnation.
——Drinking is its own activity.
Alcohol has more than enough variation & substances, more than an alcohol
ever will appreciate.
——Inebriation lies beyond the laws of math — one becomes ten immediately.
I can tell I’m old because I need sincerity even in parody.

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