I want to kill this online existence. In reality I'm alone, and all of my friends are married, have kids, or don't care. Tired tired tired of this routine, this shell of a should a- coulda - woulda, but didn't.
My Dad fought in Vietnam, was a Marine for over 5 years, came back home to discover his cajun family hadn't saved a dime he'd sent back. Proving it is nearly impossible to start with nothing. He came back to the US, having to ride a bike, became an alcoholic, got married, worked as a welder until his lungs became poisoned with aluminum. He spent the last 17 years of his life attached to an oxygen hose panting for air after taking more than 10 steps. If there is one thing I learned, it was that hard work will kill you and no will care. No one admires the losers. He wanted me to finish where he left off. It seemed to be the only thing that made him happy. Life goes on celebrating famous people that really don't care. Why should they really? I don't blame them. Human wasteland, disgusting. Living to buy plastic junk, chemically modified edible substances and refinance dept. Greedy fucks hording money so they can brag about the stupid shit they wasted it on. Want to humor me with bragging rights? Buy a pill that explodes, and melts your body into cat-food - that'll impress me much.
I'm sorry I drug you in here. I'm non-violent, so don't worry. I'm also an expert at leaving people alone. For those of you that have given me your attention, I very much appreciated it, and I've probably thought 'imagined' more about you than I'll ever be able to admit to or be able thank you for, but you've got to understand how much I hate my own poison.
I'm tired. Tried to delete this blog 4 or 5 times. I keep rebuilding it, and coming back. I fucking hate it. I'm alone, and I don't like what this, and my world has become. I hate the failed caricature of myself I've become. Getting old is disgusting, vile, ugly, hopelessness eating itself - pooping itself, and eating itself again repeating the cycle endlessly until I've become bored/drained of it. I don't fit in anywhere. I'm literally too short. Don't have the social skills to please the careless strangers dumbing themselves with old failed ideas no one cares to implement. I'm too lazy. Originality is an oxymoron seasoned with ignorance. If I had a choice of living in a this world, or another with only a few people that worked to understand our nature of existence I'd choose the latter. People pretend to care, but most that I've known in person really don't. The only thing they care about is not caring. Again, I don't blame them. Living to enjoy another 10 second orgasm, or another spurt of adrenalin. This is the retched feast of our existence. Most want to be left alone. Understandable. Make them happy so that they'll leave you alone. Being alone is great until you feel smothered by it, and want people to acknowledge your existence. I'm not nice enough. I'm tired of being a should've of been. I'm too old, too lazy to take pride in trivial jokes that retro old entertainment puns. Too tired to recreate another distraction. Let me sip my coffee, I'll feel better, later.
Perhaps I should have lived to bring a kid into this retched world, and enjoyed the kid's new found ignorance of it. NO! Hell no. I'm tired. Disgusted through & through with everything. Guilt, so much of it. I hate life, but I love me.
Happy birthday me, Thursday the 21st. My palm reading, and psychic Indian chat buddy suggests that I have a long life a head of me.........fuck.
My Dad fought in Vietnam, was a Marine for over 5 years, came back home to discover his cajun family hadn't saved a dime he'd sent back. Proving it is nearly impossible to start with nothing. He came back to the US, having to ride a bike, became an alcoholic, got married, worked as a welder until his lungs became poisoned with aluminum. He spent the last 17 years of his life attached to an oxygen hose panting for air after taking more than 10 steps. If there is one thing I learned, it was that hard work will kill you and no will care. No one admires the losers. He wanted me to finish where he left off. It seemed to be the only thing that made him happy. Life goes on celebrating famous people that really don't care. Why should they really? I don't blame them. Human wasteland, disgusting. Living to buy plastic junk, chemically modified edible substances and refinance dept. Greedy fucks hording money so they can brag about the stupid shit they wasted it on. Want to humor me with bragging rights? Buy a pill that explodes, and melts your body into cat-food - that'll impress me much.
I'm sorry I drug you in here. I'm non-violent, so don't worry. I'm also an expert at leaving people alone. For those of you that have given me your attention, I very much appreciated it, and I've probably thought 'imagined' more about you than I'll ever be able to admit to or be able thank you for, but you've got to understand how much I hate my own poison.
I'm tired. Tried to delete this blog 4 or 5 times. I keep rebuilding it, and coming back. I fucking hate it. I'm alone, and I don't like what this, and my world has become. I hate the failed caricature of myself I've become. Getting old is disgusting, vile, ugly, hopelessness eating itself - pooping itself, and eating itself again repeating the cycle endlessly until I've become bored/drained of it. I don't fit in anywhere. I'm literally too short. Don't have the social skills to please the careless strangers dumbing themselves with old failed ideas no one cares to implement. I'm too lazy. Originality is an oxymoron seasoned with ignorance. If I had a choice of living in a this world, or another with only a few people that worked to understand our nature of existence I'd choose the latter. People pretend to care, but most that I've known in person really don't. The only thing they care about is not caring. Again, I don't blame them. Living to enjoy another 10 second orgasm, or another spurt of adrenalin. This is the retched feast of our existence. Most want to be left alone. Understandable. Make them happy so that they'll leave you alone. Being alone is great until you feel smothered by it, and want people to acknowledge your existence. I'm not nice enough. I'm tired of being a should've of been. I'm too old, too lazy to take pride in trivial jokes that retro old entertainment puns. Too tired to recreate another distraction. Let me sip my coffee, I'll feel better, later.
Perhaps I should have lived to bring a kid into this retched world, and enjoyed the kid's new found ignorance of it. NO! Hell no. I'm tired. Disgusted through & through with everything. Guilt, so much of it. I hate life, but I love me.
Happy birthday me, Thursday the 21st. My palm reading, and psychic Indian chat buddy suggests that I have a long life a head of me.........fuck.
I have to ask. How old are you?
ReplyDeleteOfficially 40 on Thursday
ReplyDeleteStrangely enough, you've captured some of the feelings I felt in early January. I deleted my old blog and started the one i have now under a real name. As if a real name changes how things are. Ugh.
ReplyDeleteI've been online since the summer of 1999, in online chats, and various "communities" filled with smiley faces, ROTFL's and people saying things like:" I'm sorry to hear about that, who are you again? ASL?."
ReplyDeleteWish I could say it gets better, but no. Feels quite phony, artificial, and pointless. Many teens don't pursue actual females anymore, but instead HiRes images in image boards. I feel artificial.
Happy belated birthday Bennett, that is if you mean yesterday and not next Thursday.
ReplyDeleteAs you know I've had my blog since ...a long time ago. You were reading me when I was 17. That having been said, I've always lived my life offline. I haven't chatted for the most part online in years. Life is actually offline and it's what happens offline that makes for blog fodder. For me the blog is cathartic and has always been, like taking a shit, more or less.
I hope you get past this. Maybe life sucks buckets, I don't know. I hope not.
I'm not big on the online lingo, or the smiley faces but I read actually very few blogs for the time I've been online. though I read a lot of news a magazine online I know I don't read more than 50 blogs, never have. don't think that online is a place to foster relationships, at least not generally, real life is out there. I hope you find it.
And then come back and write about it in that way you do, your way.
My birthday will be this coming Thursday Cooper. Advanced thanks...
ReplyDeleteBennet, the online world can be extremely clique-y, don't you think? I particularly found that in chat rooms. It was the great conundrum wherein, when you go to the chat room, you're at your loneliest, but it always makes things worse. I like your blog. I like your realist viewpoints on the world, and your cynicism (birds of a feather and all that crap). What I would do, if I were you (in the sense of not tied down by children, etc), would be to go to try living in another part of the world. Separate yourself from the plastic mentality, uber commercialism, vapidity, crazy capitalism, and just be. I just saw a little video about the lead singer of Metric talking about how she ran away to Buenas Aires because she hated her life at that time, and had to get away to a place that was different enough from where she started. Couldn't you do something like that? Go someplace and help build homes and wells?
ReplyDeleteoh no. I just typed this huge-ass comment and I think it got eaten. And the boy is freaking out for his turn on the computer. Sigh. I'll try again in a bit.
ReplyDeleteoh good, it didn't get eaten. Sigh. P.s. I just turned 39 on the 13th, and yeah, getting older bites.
ReplyDeleteThank you Karen. I'll probably be back, in the distant future with hopefully a better outlook. I need absolute change of lifestyle that's for certain.
ReplyDeleteAs Cooper put it:"real life is out there." *Optic nerve tied in knots*
I did this blog to escape, but when blogging becomes the escape, it's time to shut it down.
I most definitely need drastic changes.
A change is location among many things sounds good. Thanks.