Keep Laughing!: barf

I’ve always been a cynical, critical, lyrical, fucked up mess. I’ve largely got no complaints about that, I don’t know what choice I’ve got. I’ve shared with past girlfriends how I don’t know what happiness is and how it’s not something I strive for. This horrified one of them and made another one scoff because she was much darker in her outlook. Personally I think that’s the issue with many people, they pursue happiness too forcefully. I don’t give a shit. Happiness comes around when you’re not looking for it. To seek it out makes it elusive. I don’t mind trying to set myself up for it but I refuse to beat myself up chasing it as it runs out the door. I don’t fret bad days, they are many, they will happen, and must happen to make the good days what they are. If everyday was good I’d take it for granted and not give a shit. I treasure the bad days in equal measure.

And yet in the face of disaster after disaster I still laugh at my own jokes. Since I’m mostly alone I’m the only one who gets them. It could be worse. It seems like it could always be worse. I’ve grown sick of that phrase. Still, I’m content. I have a short list of regrets, most of which eat me alive so I do my best to make the most of what’s in front of me.

I’d been seeing a psycho therapist these last few months. He’s blind. I thought that was good symbolism. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Turns out he’s an idiot. When the nazis stormed the Capital building he started talking about the dangers of Antifa. I didn’t even bring that shit up which makes it seem even more insulting for him to start talking about it. I wanted to punch him in the face. He would’ve never seen it coming. It would have been funny, and a great story, but it wouldn’t have solved much in the long run so I merely broke it off with him instead. I should have stolen something from his office, but he didn’t have anything that interested me. I’m looking for a new therapist now. I’m only interested in seeing female therapists after listening to that pseudo intellectual macho shitbag. However I do agree with him that I need to stop smoking pot and maybe start trying to be an artist again.

I’m trying to figure out how to stay positive without being delusional. I’ve been volunteering and that helps a lot. And yet I still find myself looking for new avenues of escape. Without smoking doobies. I was never much of a drinker. I just hate having to piss all the time.

Sleep has become harder to slip into. Turning off my mind doesn’t come easy. Getting out of bed in the morning has become harder to do. I find myself unable to open my eyes, to motivate. I push myself back into dreams which I don’t remember. I think I need a dog.

I find new daydreams in which to escape. Many of these dreams aren’t new. For decades now I’ve wanted a hole to open up under humanity to drop us all into the magma core. I lull myself to sleep with visions of it burning to the ground. I want the engines to be gummed up and sputter to a halt. The buildings crack and crumble to the ground. I want everyone to weep the same tears that are falling onto my face. Only silence and screams as a fever pitch of humanity drowns together in the inevitable coming flood. Burning hand in hand in the same remorseless pangs of contagious anger that can not be withheld as we choke and die alone in the smoke filled terror of our own consumption. Til there is nothing left to mourn. A flowing river of pain, and resentment, and fear, and disgust as humanity is torn asunder and chaos smashes the safety and security of the wicked as all hope is left to decay in the flotsam leftover from the tragic illusion that we can stem the tide.

I don’t want to be alone in my anguish. I want to get some of it on you. I wanted you to sneeze it into your hand as you press the button to get you to the ground floor to spread it to the next. On and on in a cycle of emotional pestilence. I want the bombs to go off one by one by one by one until no more darkness exists, only light illuminated by a destruction without end.

If you’re in a shitty metal band please feel free to use these as lyrics, just give me credit. Then please do heroin until you can’t anymore.

I thought I was unique. It’s been a surprise and a disappointment to find that more people feel that way then I could have imagined. It makes me not want to have those thoughts again. But how am I supposed to get any sleep without the dreams of the conclusion dancing in my head? Knowing there will be finality is one of the only ways I relax at night. The latest wrinkle in my fantasies harkens back to the first Indiana Jones film. I imagine the Conservative movement opening the Lost Ark as their faces melt off of their skulls. Those thoughts put me to sleep like a baby.

Lately I hide in memories of space ship rides away from disappoint. That’s some really defeatist bullshit and I’ve always hated when others hide their heads in the sand. I guess I’m surprised in myself for now considering that to be an option. But it’s fleeting. I think this daydream stems from my recent attempts to catch up on Star Trek the Next Generation. I missed that shit the first time around. It’s better than Star Wars anyway, but I still find myself falling asleep on the Millennium Falcon every other night. More often I find myself falling asleep to the standard American prayer mantra: one million dollars, two million dollars, three million dollars- falls in my lap, falls in my lap, falls in my lap. Man that’s fucking pathetic.

I’ve run out of hope and regained it enough times to recognize the cycle. I thought by now I’d run out of things to be afraid of, I tried to make a point of finding more things to make me scared, to make me shaken to my core. Come to find most of the shit that strikes fear in heart is already inside of me. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be a man and become a better person for making inroads to figure myself out instead of trying to figure the world out?

I didn’t have kids. Sometimes I think that may be the problem. Maybe I’d care more. Maybe I missed the boat. Now I have no reason to worry about staying afloat? I’m gonna say it’s too late for that now. Also, why would I subject a new life to such distresses, the worst of which we have yet to glimpse. Humanity isn’t nearly bottomed out yet. Just imagine how much further we have left to fall?

The truth is February wasn’t so bad. Maybe March will live up to the promise of Spring?