1:58 AM and here I sit banging out yet another installment of, “Called Out at Home.”
Earlier, I broke one of the cardinal rules of blogging, at least one of the rules laid down by, “the blogfather.” I revealed my blog to someone I know. Someone who knows me, and more importantly, someone who makes unannounced, guest appearances in my blog. However, as I have been doing more and more things outside of my comfort zone, “fuck fear” I'm still going to write what I think and feel. Those of you and yes, there are more than one, who read about yourselves in my blog and don't dig on what you are reading...
There are a million and one other fucking things you could be doing right now!
Later on tonight I will be going out for St. Patrick's day. Yeah...it's a week early and I fucking hate going out for St. Paddy's day but if I don't the relentless amount of bullshit I will have to endure from my co-workers is going to be more of a price than, enduring the disease that is Providence night-life for a few hours.
Earlier today I played some Guitar Hero II: Legends of Rock. Fun. Then I did some laundry and looked at my hair for awhile. God damn do I want to cut it! Why can't locks of love accept donations of 5 inches? Phone call to a friend, pasta and beans, writing, remembering or lackthereof.
I think I am developing arthritis in my neck and shoulders. Getting older is awesome. U2 playing in the background and I can still hear the absence of the clackity-clack of my fingers banging the keyboard. What would Chuck Bukowski say? He'd probably call me a pussy, punch me in the back of the head, and tell me to have a drink and get back at it. Thanks Chuck, a blow to the head and a drink are exactly what I need right now. Jerk.
What I really need is some warm weather, some good conversation and some peace and quiet time. Maybe on a beach somewhere in the south pacific. Maybe somewhere where there is no internet and I would have to again scribble my thoughts in composition books bought for a few dollars at the local CVS(hate that fucking place) before leaving civilization.
I turn 35 soon and all I want is to be done with school. To be able to move away, start a new job and a new life of peace and quiet and disconnect. A life consisting of work, four walls, good music, better food, great coffee, and solitude. I want my birthday to pass without notice and will do as much as I can to make sure that happens, even if I have to get a court order to seal my records from my boss. Fuck a birthday card and a balloon. I still have to go to work. The last thing I want to have to do is go out with people I don't really like all that much and drink.
Maybe I'm exorcising demons. Maybe that's what all of this, “FUCK FEAR” bullshit is? Maybe it's a last ditch attempt at being cool. I mean like really cool, not just the, “hey, at least my mom thinks I'm cool,” kind of cool.
Now the Goo Goo Dolls are on and the pain that resides in Iowa is called to mind and to be honest, I could care less. People make their beds, dirty and otherwise and regardless, they have to sleep in them. A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio and I won't tell them your name. Or mine or who I once was or hoped to be.
I hope you all are well.