"You are required to be happy despite your imminent unfun future. Have a nice day."
Good riddance, 2007, for you were NOTHING BUT PURE SUCKINESS from day one all the way to the end.
I think maybe I had two happy days in that whole year. What were they? I think one of them was the day I watched Babylon 5 with Deekoo, the one with that line about what it would be like if we truly deserved the bad things that happened to us. The other was the day before D. left, when he actually deigned to spend the day walking in Glen Park with me instead of sitting on the goddam moo with...she who shan't be named as per her wishes.
I had a third day that was good: that wondrous zazra consummation when Choronzon installed that new operating system. I have no doubt that this was absolutely vital in seeing to my continued viability and freedom from some mental hospital stay of the indefinite variety. The consummation was fabulous, my first orgasm after almost nine months of being unable to achieve orgasm at all by any means...but it wasn't a HAPPY day...in fact, a lot of that experience, the part prior to the consummation, was scary as hell.
2007, accursed year. Month after month of feeling like a pariah and a loser made me know this was DEFINITELY my life's worst year. Yes, even 1991 was better than 2007. The junkie year was something I somehow knew would end, but the curse of 2007 shall last until I breathe my last breath, assuming the backup herpes test I'm going to get doesn't miraculously show me I don't really have it.
2007: My first year since 1981 with no sex at all. Actually, it's been almost a year and a half since the last time I did it. I hadn't known the last time would be the last time - oh, what I'd have done had I known. It makes me cry to think of it. I try not to, but it stubbornly sometimes refuses to leave my attention lens cursor, as if gluing its thoughtstream to the damn thing so that swerving it has no effect in changing my mind's subject.
2007 technically has the ass end of '06 attached to it, beginning with the horrid 29 September.
2007 was a butt-ugly pug-faced slug-slimed dog from hell. Just like love, according to Bukowski, but this dog isn't the kind that pretends to like you and then jumps for your throat, it's a pure hateful pit bull designed to do nothing but wear down and destroy its enemy, i.e. my self-esteem, or the echo of the shadow of the concept of it, since I can't seem to find the thing itself anywhere, and I've looked everywhere for it.)
2007 needs to end before it starts chomping pieces of 2008 into itself.
Slowly, I learn to heal what's healable, and bleed with leeches that which cannot be healed.
And then ...who can I feed the engorged leeches to?
Hmm, I got an ideeee-uhm, no, let's not go there. That is not how an Effectuary in her right mind thinks. I've managed not to fall into that thinking ever since my replacement (who had promised none of this replacing shit would happen) replaced me. I either deserve a medal or a "YOU"RE SO FOOLISH!" sticker on my ass. Maybe both at once.
In the end, it's not morality that prevents me from bad doings by effectuary means, it's not karma, either. It's simply that it's a waste of time, energy, thinking. It won't get me any closer to what I want, and would in all likelihood swerve me offcourse into a dire and mordant Land of the Lost - and by that, I mean one without the dinosaurs, Pakus, and those bitchin' weather control pylons.
I think maybe I had two happy days in that whole year. What were they? I think one of them was the day I watched Babylon 5 with Deekoo, the one with that line about what it would be like if we truly deserved the bad things that happened to us. The other was the day before D. left, when he actually deigned to spend the day walking in Glen Park with me instead of sitting on the goddam moo with...she who shan't be named as per her wishes.
I had a third day that was good: that wondrous zazra consummation when Choronzon installed that new operating system. I have no doubt that this was absolutely vital in seeing to my continued viability and freedom from some mental hospital stay of the indefinite variety. The consummation was fabulous, my first orgasm after almost nine months of being unable to achieve orgasm at all by any means...but it wasn't a HAPPY day...in fact, a lot of that experience, the part prior to the consummation, was scary as hell.
2007, accursed year. Month after month of feeling like a pariah and a loser made me know this was DEFINITELY my life's worst year. Yes, even 1991 was better than 2007. The junkie year was something I somehow knew would end, but the curse of 2007 shall last until I breathe my last breath, assuming the backup herpes test I'm going to get doesn't miraculously show me I don't really have it.
2007: My first year since 1981 with no sex at all. Actually, it's been almost a year and a half since the last time I did it. I hadn't known the last time would be the last time - oh, what I'd have done had I known. It makes me cry to think of it. I try not to, but it stubbornly sometimes refuses to leave my attention lens cursor, as if gluing its thoughtstream to the damn thing so that swerving it has no effect in changing my mind's subject.
2007 technically has the ass end of '06 attached to it, beginning with the horrid 29 September.
2007 was a butt-ugly pug-faced slug-slimed dog from hell. Just like love, according to Bukowski, but this dog isn't the kind that pretends to like you and then jumps for your throat, it's a pure hateful pit bull designed to do nothing but wear down and destroy its enemy, i.e. my self-esteem, or the echo of the shadow of the concept of it, since I can't seem to find the thing itself anywhere, and I've looked everywhere for it.)
2007 needs to end before it starts chomping pieces of 2008 into itself.
Slowly, I learn to heal what's healable, and bleed with leeches that which cannot be healed.
And then ...who can I feed the engorged leeches to?
Hmm, I got an ideeee-uhm, no, let's not go there. That is not how an Effectuary in her right mind thinks. I've managed not to fall into that thinking ever since my replacement (who had promised none of this replacing shit would happen) replaced me. I either deserve a medal or a "YOU"RE SO FOOLISH!" sticker on my ass. Maybe both at once.
In the end, it's not morality that prevents me from bad doings by effectuary means, it's not karma, either. It's simply that it's a waste of time, energy, thinking. It won't get me any closer to what I want, and would in all likelihood swerve me offcourse into a dire and mordant Land of the Lost - and by that, I mean one without the dinosaurs, Pakus, and those bitchin' weather control pylons.