Wednesday, February 25, 2004
I saw an ad for American Idol on television Monday night and just started crying, not knowing why. I guess they were tears for humanity. Thank god the midget wedding show came on and my tears of tragedy were replaced by tears of hilarity. And it's not so much that I was laughing at them. Just that...I was laughing at the situation. And well, there were a couple of them that scared the shit out of me. So I guess I was laughing at them. Whatever. Everything's been alright since the breakup. In fact, things seem really good right now. Mostly because I've discovered the writings of John Titor, alleged time traveller, and everything else in my life seems inconsequential. Predictions for the future include an American civil war, beginning late 2004/early 2005, and an all out worldwide nuclear assault in 2015. In a way, I'm kind of relieved. Knowing that everything's going to fall apart within the next few years really takes the heat off. Especially in terms of maintaining a successful career and relationship. I didn't want to get married anyway. So I think I'm going to stop putting money into my 401K immediately, and start planning on getting that new car I want. I'm really going to start living for the now. I already was, but now I will even more. But I'm conflicted...I do want to see civilization as we know it destroyed, but at the same time, there are a lot of movies and video games coming out in the future that I don't want to miss. And having to resort to survivalist instincts might leave me a little fucked, being that I'm completely out of shape and was never a boy scout. Though there's always the possibility that I'll get thrown into jail for some reason when the country goes into martial law. And that's probably worse than having to survive and potentially shoot yuppies from rooftops amidst all the chaos. Maybe I should look into buying a firearm. Personally, they scare me, but it is my right as an American to own a shitload of weaponry. But anyway, I still have about half a year to go before I have to worry about civil war and the collapse of our government, so I'll enjoy my time in this wonderful republic right now, and I won't stop, no, I won't stop consuming! There are DVDs, consumer electronics, music, magazines, clothing, alcohol, and fast food purchases to be made! Plus I'm now "available" for the first time in...I can't remember how long we were dating, but it seemed like a really long time. So I've got to get back in the game and get some tail. But first I need to devise a strategy...
Monday, February 09, 2004
Ugh...so it went like this. I've been neglecting this relationship for the past six months and have been fully aware of it the whole time. I knew she loved me, I wanted to love her, but these days I feel so incapable of loving any living thing (except for Shakie Wilcox, of course), that I just can't reciprocate those feelings. So when she told me she loved me, I'd close my eyes and hold her and say "I love you," only I'd be thinking about a BMW or a 40" plasma television. We hadn't been having much intercourse lately. It seemed like she often wanted to, but no matter how unbelievably horny I'd be, somehow I'd weasel out of it, and when she'd go home, the first thing I'd do would be hop on the computer to look at some of my favorite amateur pornography sites. Last week, things got very difficult and it was evident that the relationship was finally on its last rope. I'm not even sure why she held on as long as she did. Instead of constructively dealing with the enormous problems between us, we went to the bar with some friends and got really drunk. We came home in the mood for love, only I fucked it up when we were having sex and I kept sloppily touching her face, saying stuff like "Oh yeah baby, tell me I'm brilliant. Tell me I'm hilarious. Yeah." She pushed me off of her, angry because we couldn't even make love without me being a complete monster. "What the hell is wrong with you, B? What happened to you?" she asked me. I told her how much it would turn me on for her to compliment me and tell me how funny and witty I am, but she wasn't having any of it. She jumped off the bed, put her clothes on, and went home in tears, leaving me nauseous and flacid in front of a computer screen for the next hour and a half.
The next night, I tried to make it up to her and take her out to a really nice restaraunt, who's name I shall not mention here. It's a real classy joint and I thought it might earn me some 'I'm sorry' points. I begged her on the phone to let me take her out and told her how sorry I was for my actions the preceding night. I picked her up and gave her a bouquet of flowers, which she loved. Things went really smoothly for the next hour and a half. Then, in the middle of our entree, my stomach hurt really bad and I had to excuse myself. I was in a daze in the bathroom...I'm not really sure what I did in there, if anything. All I remember was some guy who was dressed really well, in an Italian suit, using the stall and then promptly leaving without washing his hands. I washed mine thoroughly before floating back to our table and sitting down. God, she looked beautiful. I sat there, looking at her, wondering how a waste of life such as myself could land such a beautiful, loving woman. But there was fear in her eyes. Worry. Doubt. Someone else. That had to be it. How could she not be interested in other people? I must have left her so unfulfilled in every way. We started talking about something. I'm not sure what. I think she was talking about her job. She kept going on about it while I spaced out, staring at her but not hearing her words, ocassionally muttering "mm hmm." and "oh, ok" to whatever she was saying. I started looking around the restaurant, taking it all in. Fucking yuppies. 'When I get out of here, I'm going to key one of those goddamn Acura SUVs in the parking lot that made it so hard for me to find a parking spot,' I thought. I kept scanning the restaurant, while she blathered on. Then my eyes landed on the guy from the bathroom, the guy with the nice Italian suit. Suddenly I felt a massive rush and got really panicky. I loudly pushed my chair back and stood up, frantically pointing to the man and yelling "That guy didn't wash his hands after taking a shit!" I heard a bunch of gasps, and the guy damn near spit his wine out all over his date. I looked down at my girlfriend, and time seemed to slow down. She looked apalled, then she just looked like she was about to cry. She stood up, told me I was a worthless asshole and she's not giving me another chance, ever again. Then she stormed out of the restaurant, in tears. Obviously, I was asked to leave the restaurant, but I insisted on taking my half-eaten roast duck with me. I made sure to key a couple of luxury SUVs in the parking lot, all while stuffing bits of greasy duck into my mouth, and wiping the grease off onto peoples' windshields.
So now it's over. For real. I don't feel sad, I don't feel angry, I don't even hate myself any more than I usually do, even knowing that this is completely my fault, in every way. And yet, I feel so incomplete and empty. What have I done?
The next night, I tried to make it up to her and take her out to a really nice restaraunt, who's name I shall not mention here. It's a real classy joint and I thought it might earn me some 'I'm sorry' points. I begged her on the phone to let me take her out and told her how sorry I was for my actions the preceding night. I picked her up and gave her a bouquet of flowers, which she loved. Things went really smoothly for the next hour and a half. Then, in the middle of our entree, my stomach hurt really bad and I had to excuse myself. I was in a daze in the bathroom...I'm not really sure what I did in there, if anything. All I remember was some guy who was dressed really well, in an Italian suit, using the stall and then promptly leaving without washing his hands. I washed mine thoroughly before floating back to our table and sitting down. God, she looked beautiful. I sat there, looking at her, wondering how a waste of life such as myself could land such a beautiful, loving woman. But there was fear in her eyes. Worry. Doubt. Someone else. That had to be it. How could she not be interested in other people? I must have left her so unfulfilled in every way. We started talking about something. I'm not sure what. I think she was talking about her job. She kept going on about it while I spaced out, staring at her but not hearing her words, ocassionally muttering "mm hmm." and "oh, ok" to whatever she was saying. I started looking around the restaurant, taking it all in. Fucking yuppies. 'When I get out of here, I'm going to key one of those goddamn Acura SUVs in the parking lot that made it so hard for me to find a parking spot,' I thought. I kept scanning the restaurant, while she blathered on. Then my eyes landed on the guy from the bathroom, the guy with the nice Italian suit. Suddenly I felt a massive rush and got really panicky. I loudly pushed my chair back and stood up, frantically pointing to the man and yelling "That guy didn't wash his hands after taking a shit!" I heard a bunch of gasps, and the guy damn near spit his wine out all over his date. I looked down at my girlfriend, and time seemed to slow down. She looked apalled, then she just looked like she was about to cry. She stood up, told me I was a worthless asshole and she's not giving me another chance, ever again. Then she stormed out of the restaurant, in tears. Obviously, I was asked to leave the restaurant, but I insisted on taking my half-eaten roast duck with me. I made sure to key a couple of luxury SUVs in the parking lot, all while stuffing bits of greasy duck into my mouth, and wiping the grease off onto peoples' windshields.
So now it's over. For real. I don't feel sad, I don't feel angry, I don't even hate myself any more than I usually do, even knowing that this is completely my fault, in every way. And yet, I feel so incomplete and empty. What have I done?
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