Jan 08, 2006 21:57
I was talking with someone the other day and started to read some of the poetry I had written a while back, and I realized that I just cannot get my brain to get in that kind of a mood any more. My weirdness is still just as present, but I think I have become focused on the reality I live in, and less on what lies beyond rational thought. I have even tried to medicate myself into that kind of a mindset with no real results. I would like to be able to pull that out of my mind every once in a while. I wonder if this is also another subconscious result of what went on with Beth. I have turned toward hatred toward her and what she did to me, and maybe in doing so, I turned that spite against the trippiness that I had enjoyed about her and sharing with her.
She has occupied a large chunk of my brain lately. And I hate when she does, because the cycle is always the same: warm and relaxing feeling talking to her; thinking about how nice it was with her; realizing how much she fucked me over; and finally finished by thinking she is a bitch and hating her. It is so damn frustrating; however it seems to do wonders for my workouts, as my frustration gives me energy and drive.
I really need to break ties with her. I can’t deal with talking to her, because it fucks me up for days. She called me the other night after we hadn’t talked for a while, and she used me as a shoulder to cry on. She had been stricken with some really terrible news of her friend dying in a drunken driving accident on new years. I felt bad for her, but I think she should have fucking called her boyfriend that she left me for. I made many new years resolutions and they are progressing along nicely so far, but I now need to add to it, and that is to never talk to her again.
I also hate that whenever I get around to writing, she becomes the damn subject and I seem like a miserable bloke that can’t rid himself of a certain demon. And I think that some of that comes from my beginning paragraph about losing my trippy side. I always loved exploring that side of thinking and documenting it to see where my mind went. So now that I don’t have that, I have the reality of my life to discuss, and I just can’t make happy as hell interesting enough to write about anymore.
Although, at the bar on Friday, I was extremely intoxicated from drinking since I got off of work and it was about the end of the night. I had just closed my tab and Andy bought us a last round. But he then decided he didn’t really want his, so he bet me my debt with him, about 50 bucks, that I couldn’t finish both of the beers in one minute. So with 50 bucks on the line I downed both of them in about 40 seconds only to realize I didn’t have that much tolerance left in me at that time. I went running to the bathroom and there was a line and in my drunken stupor I sort of spun around wondering what to do, and Andy finally decided we should just leave, so we got about 10 feet outside of the bar, before I showered the sidewalk with my winning beers. A funny sight it must have been to see, I didn’t even lose my step. We then had some of the best damn slices of pizza my tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. It was a good night all around.