I feel a bit boxed in right now. . . jailed. BY LACK OF LOVE AND, AND, AND SOMETHING ELSE ALL DARK AND EMO AND STUFF. Rejection! I want to listen to sad love songs and go off on my own personal Asheville rejection tour, whereby I wander around to see all the men in this stupid fucking town who have decided for one reason or another that a relationship with me is just a really bad idea. I AM ALL BUMMED OUT! Or, well, something.
Actually I'm just hungover and miserable and fed up with my own dysfunction and the dysfunction I'm allowing to happen all around me, argh. I just got home from work only to realize that this place looks like something that was rejected from Animal House as too appalling; there seem to be people asleep on every piece of furniture and they ate all the frozen pizza. Yet again I hit that weird central conundrum of my whole life: I somehow failed to grow up. Somewhere, somehow, along the way I got stuck at about age 23 and I have never managed to break out of it. Which most of the time is a good thing - and I have been trying to make peace with it, or at least stay drunk and stoned enough where it no longer bothers me - but when it comes to after party cleanup?
An inner grownup would be handy.
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2 comments:
I recommend the Smiths for your walking around music.
My Smithshave gotten all blurry and funny, though, when I go to load them into the tape player. I swear, you have a tape for 20 years and then it just goes flooey - no quality control. Imagine.
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