MIdnight fears of adolescent death dreams, when you’re alone noone can hear you scream Pound your head against the wall Pound your head against the wall How many days until you fall, never to rise again? I don’t care Yes you do, that was all an act Remember when you used to fly? Yes, it was all that kept me from dying That was the only advantage from that vantage point That lonely age and fear of engagement Pushing them all away But there was one? Yes, once Still pounding your head against the wall? Yes, daily, it’s flagrant Frightening enlightenment? ??? Forgive and let yourself live
“We’ve got tonight Who needs tomorrow? We’ve got tonight, babe Why don’t you stay?
“We’ve got tonight” Kenny Rogers and Sheana Easton
Done gone and fucked up again! I’m telling you, when that dude was fucking with me yesterday, other people in the meeting were telling me to join Bumble. I wasn’t looking for dating advice. I told hem the reason I relapsed was because I first got laid and then got drunk.
I didn’t want to join any dating sites but especially not Bumble. I’m supposed to sit there and wait for women to send me messages? Okay? I can see that happening. But I thought about all the women complaining about regular dating sites. They get 300 “hey, babe, you dtf?” messages a night. That is why they never even see my thought out message. These women are all saying they want a serious relationship and sick of the bullshit and so am I. But don’t lie to yourself, everyone is willing to hook up.
So I join this dating site where I am not allowed to send a message to a woman even if she swipes right. Nothing I can do except hope she sends a message. But it makes sense to me. I fit into this site. I’m not one of those assholes. (Actually I am but I’m not an idiot.) But I got a swipe left face. I need words to get me through. There is no room for that. But no, I took a stupid selfie grinning like an idiot and figured out how to get myself across without a profile. Three word user name: BoringOldBill.
Fill out the info, forget about it. What happens? I start getting messages! From real people. Not many, but I didn’t swipe many. High percentage of return! They all say, I bet you’re not boring! I have several answers in my back pocket for that question. Not many matches. But three. Only two sent me messages. And one has only 24 hours to make up her mind. I know she liked me but still, I can’t send her a message. I don’t care. I feel great about this!
I’m just sitting here and women are liking me and sending messages. Because I’m not one of those guys, right? I’m not that much of a stud but someone takes an interest in me and you won’t believe, I don’t believe, (although, I know it) I am a fascinating conversationalist. I’m talking to this woman I don’t even know if I am interested in but she is sure interested in me! All I did was write the simplest fucking profile.
She says she is looking for serious relationship in her profile but from the beginning I was anything but serious. I kept the LOL’s rolling. I know what to do. Something about the weather and I knew she was may age so I screwed up the word’s to the Kenny Roger’s song on purpose. Asking, Is this even a song? She googled it. I blamed her for putting the words in my head. I’m fucking two seconds into my way to hooking up tomorrow! How do I know? I don’t know? How do you know? I hate that fucking song. She is a woman 10 years older than me, I know she loves that song! How do I know? I’m not even trying to do this. I’m trying to make jokes.
Now she is really interested and she is challenging me to do my best. My best what? I’m sitting here on a Friday night doing what I do best. I’m ten moves ahead. Don’t get me wrong. I’m only doing this shit because I like her. She doesn’t know how good I am.
Out of the blue she wants to meet. But can’t directly ask. I know how to flirt around it. I make her invite herself. Square beach pizza and cannoli’s after she meets with her sister. Suddenly her sister is not so important. I know. I know I am important. I know what we are doing.
She wants to me to call her on the phone and we talk for hours. She tells me it is the first time she has met someone online and talked on the phone and made plans to meet the next day. Well, she has never met me before. Finally she hangs up. I plug my phone in to charge and she texts me!
Four in the morning, we are still talking. She went from we might chat to she might meet for pizza to she wants me to hold her in my arms! She can’t wait for tomorrow but she doesn’t want to go to sleep. Then a definitely stated end plan! I didn’t suggest it. I just played along. I’m not playing her. I spent this much time talking to her because I have fun talking to her.
She is forgetting about lunch with her sister she used as an excuse but not really it was a round about way to ask when I am free Saturday afternoon. 4am. I know I am up but what the hell, she said good night 4 hours ago!
I’m a fucking sicko. All I had to do was plant that song in her head. I want to go to bed. She is still texting me.We can’t meet until tomorrow afternoon.
(Saturday, that was then this is now) She texted me at 9am. She cancelled lunch with her sister and can come over earlier. (What???) Okay, sure. I’m waiting for her to get ready and my phone is blowing up! This must be a scam…But no! These are normal looking everyday women. They all want to talk. Every other dating site 9 times out of 10 if I’m not dead serious or I say one thing slightly off color it is the end of the conversation. I would 9 times out of ten I never get an answer. Now I’m just sitting here. They limit your swipes to I think 20 a day. That is more than enough. I can’t keep track of the 7 women I started talking this morning. My profile definitely indicates I am irreverent. They give you a few prompt questions if you want to fill them out. I chose, My perfect first date: “Meeting for iced coffee so I don’t get burnt when you throw it in my face.” What is my plan for the zombie apocalypse? “Run faster than you!” We may get along if you find this funny: “Q. Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? A. Because they are so good at it.”
Almost all the profiles I have read the women say they are looking for a serious relationship but they don’t seem to mind I am completely off the wall. I had to tell them I was leaving for the day so they would stop sending me messages.
I told them at the meeting online dating was a former drinking activity and a trigger. They said oh no, it’s for people looking for new friends and things to do. Okay. Sound about right. Why did I just get laid on the second day? I am keeping it under control. When I was on Tinder years ago when it was still real and the wild, wild west I went overboard. I was texting 4 women with a different variations of the name Christine. Once I accidentally texted the wrong one and that is how I ended up getting laid.
What the hell. One girl who doesn’t look like she would have a problem getting dates was keeping my updated all day. “going out with friends”, “(something)”, and just now, “I’m heading home now, I’ll text you when I get there, if you are still awake.” I said, “That should be easy, I never sleep. Thanks for the warning though. :)”
I’m purposely turning off notifications because they were non stop. I am not that big into texting. I understand that is what everyone does now and it is a necessary evil but can I eat a sandwich?
They don’t look desperate. They are not supermodels but they are pretty. They are well educated. I’m just some old ugly dude with bad jokes. I can’t be doing this but WTF? Maybe it is because I’m new. I think it may also help that I say, I didn’t understand how this site was going to work but then I figured it was for women who were tired of getting 300 “hey u up, dtf?” messaged a night. That is usually a good ice breaker.
I met A– on POF and saw her regularly for 3 years. It was 2am and I sent a message, “What are you doing up so late? Reading through all the messages from the perverts? That’s okay, this pervert can wait.” She answered me right away.
Trying to stay hidden away A strange woman tells me to pray How do they find me? I try to be kind but What do I do When they want to take What I can’t give? She doesn’t want to live Yet she continues wandering Asking for help that’s not coming Telling me she’s going to hell and I am too. She disobeyed the word of god What do I tell her? I don’t believe in hell? I killed god a long time ago? She doesn’t like that I’m going to hell again If she was paying attention She would have seen The flaw in my logic.
“I am just a worthless liar I am just an imbecile I will only complicate you Trust in me and fall as well I will find a center in you I will chew it up and leave I will work to elevate you Just enough to bring you down”
I wrote my last post in a total blackout. Everything I wrote was true. I was sober when I went online. I was sober when she was here. I guess what happened after she left wasn’t integral to the story. It is integral to this story.
All through the afternoon while she was here my maniac brain was feasting upon it’s reward. I was so fucking spun. I remember all of that happening. She wanted to go to the beach and get pizza but I didn’t want to be in public looking all daffed out. I don’t know why, I do it every day. I felt bad but I couldn’t think straight. I walked her down to her car and while she was sitting in there with the door open finding it on gps, it felt like a great idea. I also felt like a loser for saying I didn’t want to go before. I told her, I’ll be your gps, I really want to go now. I don’t think she believed me, saying, that’s okay. I said it again, same thing. I really wanted to go but didn’t push it. Two no’s don’t make a yes.
There were no coping skills to use. I don’t remember making the decision to go buy beer. Obviously it was my decision. I have no recollection. How could I black out being totally straight? She drove off… [something, something] I woke up the next morning, walked to the living room, (why do I feel hungover?) Shook the mouse to activate the screen, Fuck! What did I write? Too much detail. Not too bad; I held back. Can’t delete it, everyone has read it. Oh, I’m going to have some horrible comments. People like it? Did they read it? I guess it’s forever enshrined on the internet now.
What else did I do? From the looks of the tabs I had open I was trying to hook up with the entire world…. Didn’t sign up for anything, okay good. huhhhhhg… my texts? Nothing. Thank Jesus! Why do I need more sex? I just had memory bank sex. She is probably coming back next week. What the fuck?
Maybe I should log on to a meeting. “Friends and Family?” whatever. I got something out of it. Not the place to speak up.
Somehow I’m at Panera again; mind still racing; still thinking sex. How did this happen. Why am I sitting here smiling. I am chugging these iced teas. Dehydrated. This broad walking toward me, she’s hot, she’s smiling, she’s smiling at me…. Why? Oh, I’m smiling but not at her. Maybe she is just nice. I raise my eyebrows a bit. Something happened but she is gone behind me. Whatever. Mindfully eating pizza. Look up. Here she comes again; walking towards me, smiling me dead in the eyes. Smile back idiot. Say something idiot! How are you? Great, thanks, how are you. She is gone. I don’t fucking know. The first time I was already looking in her direction but the next time she was already smiling and staring at me before I looked up. If she’s alone I’m going over to say something. I’m not turning all the way around to look. I do need a refill, get up, coming back. Fuck, she is with the other broad that gave me a dirty look earlier. Oh well… What was I expecting to happen? That’s what I said last night and look what happened. No.. go home.
What the fuck is it? Wednesday? Five o’clock? My phone blings… Different sound. I check it. A notification from Tinder? When the fuck did I download Tinder? And I paid for it? I paid for a free app? I know it’s a scam. I got off it 5 years ago when they changed it. Okay, cancel the recurring subscription and delete it. Delete it? I don’t know? Who is on here? Of course, 3,000 scantily clad super models live in my town and just can’t seem to find a date. And I got a message that says “Hola?” She’s the only one that looks real without a professional photography studio quality pic.
“Hola, como esta?” “Muy bien y’tu?” Gotta be some kind of bot. Weird, I ask a question that can’t be answered by a bot and it’s not a bot. Why does she think I speak Spanish? I use up my conversational skills and say “no habla”, She says, “Si” and asks me another question in Spanish. Okay, I pull up Google translate and start translating. Later she tells me she is learning English but says it in Spanish. I reply in Spanish you know I don’t speak? “Si” I guess I am learning Spanish. She isn’t trying to scam me, I’m just curious. She went to bed I did a meeting about urges but I just want to give in, I’m trying but I really just want to give in. I’m getting really depressed. I give in and by a 6 pack. Walking to the store. Fuck it!Fuck it!Fuck it!
What’s is today? Thursday? I don’t think I slept. Now I’m up again. Mind racing! Moving from place to place doing nothing. Pick up my tablet. Meeting? What time is it 9am? It’s almost over. Fuck it I’ll do the next one. Pick up the tablet, log in. They are talking about the issues I have had all summer. Coincidence but not monumental. That’s why everyone is there. Then they are doing Cost/benefit of your addiction. Someone says euphoria, then another says funnier I don’t know, I’m just listening, then a guy says easier to talk to women, hit it on the head. Exactly what happened Monday but different. Not me. I gotta say something, I’m gonna go crazy all day.
I said I had the opposite happen Monday. Not really having urges, did a couple meetings anyway cause I learn something. 10pm I find myself trying to hook up on a dating site. I’m not worried, I don’t need to be drunk to talk to women but it used to be a drinking activity and I (tried to explain my whole summer in 2 minutes without sounding like a raving lunatic but I sound like a raving lunatic)I meet the woman, have sex, then get drunk… I did the rest of the meeting. I’m getting worked up telling asking them but I already know, I’m not asking them I’m telling them.
My maniac mind got it’s reward and then it wanted more. I know alcohol is a depressant but it fuels my mania. I am lucky the stores were closed when I ran out of beer cause I can go on for days and nights until my mind and body collapse.
They ended the meeting but held it open for me and this the woman is doing a screen capture how to click someone’s name on tthe message board and some dude I’ve seen as a long time member keeps telling me to look in the chat and write down his screen name and his personal email he really wants to help me with this.
I’m depressed now and got another six pack tonight but it was actually quite frantic. I was trying to control myself because it was morning and there are only 15 people in the meeting and they are talking about going to church and I’m dropping F bombs and talking about getting laid online and trying to shut up.
I got a screenshot, they were stressing that I email this guy. I’m thinking yes I should. I did and I remember the message board but his name wasn’t there. I send another email to say that. No answer. Okay, people have lives but he was saying I had to do it right away. Not really worried I feel better until I log into a meeting and see his name in the chat like wtf? I don’t know. I sent him a dm saying I emailed you under this name. No response. waiting, meeting sucks, waiting, meeting sucks, Another six pack. Are these people fucking with me cause I said I’m schizo? They said I was in the right place, they acted like they were trying to help me. then nothing? I’m pissed. I don’t know what is going on. I told them I am trying to cut this off short but I’m drinking a beer right now. WTF? Another group I don’t belong.
“Don’t touch me, please I cannot stand the way you tease I love you though you hurt me so Now I’m gonna pack my things and go”
“Tainted Love” Soft Cell, I prefer Marilyn Manson
Done gone and fucked up again! It’s still happening. I swore off meeting people online and what did I do last night? Oh yeah… You guessed it. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m doing it! I stopped cause I kept getting catfished by guys and they’re not even good at catfishing… Some of them send a message pretending to be a woman and their email is their real name, like “Justin Jones” or something. Sometimes they send you pictures and I google image search them and they are from some Mexican porn site. I’m so bored I play along like I believe them. It just got so stupid. I would go online and these guys are waiting to mess with me.
So what am I doing back online? I know what I’m doing… I’m looking at the fucking calendar and it’s almost November! I know what I’m doing. I really don’t want to sit around all winter watching repeats of “Chopped” on the Food Network. I know that is Black and White and I am leaving myself no freedom of choice, but what the fuck? But 10pm on a Monday? Here I go again. What exactly am I expecting to happen? This site gives me just enough of a tease to give it a chance. But, seriously, last time I wrote about it was a year ago (winter approaching) when I had my dream come true for one day. I’m too old for this shit! I know the real reason. Last year wasn’t my dream come true. My dream come true was three years ago when I met T—- and A—-. Every guy’s fantasy is to have a threesome with two women… But on a regular basis for 3 years? They disappeared this summer. Poof!
There I am, Monday night. I’m thinking I’m so stupid, I’m getting offline right now. Then I get an email. But ten minutes? Too good to be true! She sent a picture but seriously? This hot woman is super interested in me and my lame attempt to get laid? I searched her picture and it wasn’t online but I’ve had that before. Still… She’s talking like she is down the street from me. Whatever… Bored… But wondering? Talking, starting to believe her, nothing too explicit but we are both there too hook up. I said something like, Are you asking me to invite you over right now? She said, no, but maybe coffee tomorrow. Alright, I am talking to a real person. Sorry if I was too forward, coffee sounds great.
Nothing… Then an email from “some hung young one”, saying, Don’t be silly, of course I want to meet you! You know I want to suck that D….! Like we been talking all along. Like what the fuck! I just started to believe she might be real and now it’s a guy using two email addresses. I am an idiot! Told him to fuck off and signed off. Whatever… Red Sox won.. Go to bed. Good one! When is the last time you slept?
An hour later she sends another email with her phone number saying text her but I don’t believe it cause I’ve been sent phone numbers before thinking they are real and all I say is “Hi, you gave me your number online” and it’s is someone saying sorry I broke up with my boyfriend and he is giving out my phone number. Funny story I have already written. The guy I used to buy dope from seemed like he was really cool and friendly until his girlfriend broke up with him and he put her real name Facebook page online pretending it was her looking for some D. Then I randomly hooked up with her on the same site a month later! Like, I never, never, would have thought.
Now I believe she is real cause I looked up her number and it was her email name but she is asking me all these crazy questions like I am a scam. Yeah, I’m posing as a horny guy on Monday night. We figured it out and had a good text convo, Nothing sexual, so I’m thinking she doesn’t do this much maybe. she is getting to know me.. I have no problem with it. I’m too old to be trying to hookup with everyone. We had a lot in common.But she is telling me she has to pick up her son, it’s 2am and bring him to a Doctor at 9am. Whatever? Still she’s not messing with my head now.
But meeting for “coffee” was slowly turning into, I like to dress sexy… oh yeah? Normal conversation… High heels ant thigh highs… Please stop, I live alone and it is 4am… Back to favorite music, favorite bands, she turned me on to Seether. I couldn’t believe I never paid attention to themone way or the other.
All non-sequitors. She keeps dropping sex, in between saying she get’s really wet, like okay, so does everyone. But saying she is really hard to orgasm. I don’t know, I don’t brag I’m a stud but I know my way around the body. But she says it only happens with a man who uses his hands. What? I know to use hands but there are better ways. Now I’m thinking maybe I’m not the guy she is looking for? Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing? But she is really grooving on me. Still talking. Then she starts sending the pictures… Didn’t I tell you not to do this to me? But she asks, Do you promise to be there after my son’s appointment tomorrow? Yeah, bet your ass! But could you not do this to me at 5am? She says great! How old are you? I tell her the truth because I look older and there is no point in lying. She tells me, good, I am 58… The fuck?!!! No way! Sends me another picture… Age is truly just a number. The picture…The whole time talking her and the previous pictures and conversations, I thought maybe 40, 45? Not older than me! I still don’t believe it, She better not be sending me 20 year old pictures. I zoom in on her face and yeah, she’s got some eye lines, a little hook on the corner of her mouth, looks right… But she is fucking rocking that body! I said, Yes, you are truly smoking hot! I’m imagining all kind of shit but it’ 6am and she fell asleep and none of this is going to happen.
I go to sleep. Do you think this is the end of the story? Oh no! I said, I guess I am not going to sleep. She didn’t answer. I’m still like, 99 percent sure. Tried to sleep but who are we kidding? Kinda fell asleep like 7:30, 8am, I didn’t set my alarm but my phone rang at 9am. A New Jersey number!!! It’s true! It’s her! Noooo! She used to live in New Jersey, she has a 603 number like me, New Hampshire. I’m not picking up it. She said 9am, it’s a New Jersey number, I’m answering! I was right, bullshit, fake caller ID. But the badge falls away and underneath is a text from her! “My son’s appointment was cancelled, call me when you wake up!” Whaaaaat? Fucking right I called her! (Am I crazy or are you crazy?) She answered, first ring. She didn’t think the New Jersey call was that amazing, but come on. (If you read me before you may think I’m delusional but you know I’m not, right? Could you make this shit up?)
She told me she usually needs some coffee and a shower, yes I agree… I think I will go get a coffee. Okay, call me back. I call back. Would you like me to come down now or later today? What? Is this an option? Do you think I have a choice? I’ve been dreaming about you since you said thigh highs. The only time I wasn’t dreaming about you was when I was sleeping! But you know me, I played it cool. You know I want you right now, but I don’t want you to rush. Okay, text me your address and I will call when I am leaving. Okay? The stars are lining up, I guess? Not really! The whole summer I’ve been outside. My fucking place is trashed! I can take a shower but this is not presentable. I feel like I threw a hook in the ocean, not expecting to catch the big fish! Now it’s on he line.
Funny because I remember leaving a comment on someone’s blog yesterday about feeling overwhelmed, saying I try to pick the easiest thing and say if I only do that today I will be happy and it usually snowballs and I end up doing a lot more. Only I haven’t been taking my own advice! Do you know another source of motivation? Pussy! I got that coffee and started up fast! I was surprised how fast it went, I didn’t do a deep clean but looking like I am presentable. I can’t believe I never got this started before.
I know what you are thinking [Interruption: You all know the rules of online dating, right? Meet in public, tell a friend, etc.. Do you know how many women I have told I am on disability for schizo and they come to my door with no worries, middle of the night? I don’t know, it’s a lot, a lot, maybe you can tell me how many? Granted, some of them are schizo, but they are the best ones. But mostly, ordinary average people… Your next door neighbor! Can you imagine your neighbor coming to visit me at 3am? Maybe she already has?] Is that what you were thinking?
I got a coffee, I did it all, I look like above a dullard, but I can’t settle down. She texted she was leaving when? I got time to do a meditation… No… The phone rings! She is here! (That is what I liked, she talks on the phone) I have to go down three floors to let her in, I hustle cause I don’t like to leave anyone standing there. Took the stairs cause they are faster than the elevator. Before I turn the corner I remember to smile. Keep smiling. There she is starting down the first step. She said she was not dressing special cause it’s morning/noon, me too, jeans and t-shirt. Turns out, I’m under-dressed! She has style! Fuck! I’m worried, Old? What? Better than her picture! Now I know I’m not pretty, all I have is words. But fucking big smile, hug, kiss on the lips even though I gave the slight option of turning my head a bit. We all know where this is going!
She is one sexy bitch! No way is this going to work… Upstairs. She’s raving about my place, (she loves the coffee table I found by the dumpster. It is pretty nice, that’ is why I carried it’s 200 pound ass up the stairs.) But we’re on the couch forever. Talking cats, kids, cats, kids, she is just trying to make a pleasant exit, right? But then, Mind if I dab? Okay, heard about it, never seen it, go ahead. She pulls out the apparatus, explains it… No thanks, cause me anxiety. Now, we are vibing, we have a little connection, we both like human names for our pets. We both had a lot of really good ones. She keeps pulling videos on her phone, Songs I likebut never heard before. Then, Amy Winehouse. I never knew she played guitar with a horn ensemble before she got big? Not into her before but now I think. (Okay, get to the good part?)
(The good part) I’m thinking, sometimes I’m slow, she is out of my league but we have a lot in common (more than pets) Why am I worried? I think she’s just talking to be polite but she’s been talking for a while and still sitting there, I put my hand on her thigh and everything changed. Maybe she was worrying the same? I don’t know? Much friendlier. This is encouraging. Now we’re talking sex, exploring ideas, she asks me again if I am into the “lifestyle” I know what she means but play dumb… she’s talking, asking me questions, no, I’m not into the “lifestyle”. But fucked up shit has been going on in my “lifestyle’. (never mind that, we are headed in the right direction, I think) She is into some shit. I tell her I am straight up hard sex. Good sex, just sex. She was holding back but asking me leading questions. I told her the truth. The wildest I have done is this couple showed up in the early hours and I banged the guy’s wife in the back seat while he watched from the front. (Not really sure, but maybe) I might have been turned on by being watched? The best part was his wife was hot! Really hot! Why wasn’t he fucking her? I don’t know, lot of guys have sent me pics of their wives, asked if I want to bang their wives and when I ask, have you talked to your wife aboutt this? No. End of conversation.
I’m going on too long, I ask her what she likes and she pulls my thumbs below her pubic bone and right there. Again, only fingers. “Is that my g-spot?”, I don’t think so, i dont’ think so either itt’s my cervix. Alright, I’ve heard this once before but my dick hit it. But she says no. Only hands. She needs a man who is good with his hands. Now I’m intimidated, but this is heading straight to my bedroom. Still, she said it is long time to orgasm and only fingers? Not me? \
(Okay, good part) What ever I was doing, I was doing right and I was doing it right away. Like 20 seconds! I have met many women who say, I warn you, I am a squirter so you might need a towel, ha ha, But then they do it and it’s not much. Different story today! All she said was she gets very wet and it takes a long time. (am I getting too graphic?) Fucking wet was an understatement! Fucking Niagara Falls! Apparently I know exactly what she needs. I can feel it. I don’t know, It wasn’t her cervix. My fingers are not that long! She asked, where is my g-spot, I said, right here, Nope, nothing… I don’t care, I got back to touching her cervix which I know I can’t reach but there is something there. It’s a big lump of erectile tissue and all I knew what that was all about, I know the relation between a man’s erectile tissue and a woman’s. Whatever? I’m no Dr. Kinsey but it was every 20 seconds and every 20 seconds and every 20 seconds! Very wet? I’m cupping my hand, it’s full of liquid and it’s overflowing. [omit some x-rated parts, and some more x-rated parts] Now, 4 hours later, she’s still fucking doing it! Every 20 seconds, I’m just curious if it’s ever going to stop?! No! It never stopped!
(Had enough yet?) So what? Where are we? Oh yeah, coffee… We had lot’s of coffee! Four hours later, I’ve done everything I imagined and more, I’m worn out! My head is spinning, my body is buzzing, I’m totally sober and I’m staggering around, slurring my words. I know I haven’t slept but you know? Maybe you don’t. I put myself aside, I was done, but she wasn’t, I wanted to see where this goes. Personally I’m done but I want to see where it goes. I’m not really done. I am fucking super turned on I know i make people feel good, but this good??? But she’s getting p and saying, wow, your blanket is wet! Everywhere I touch, I’m sorry… No, thank you! This is fucking great! I said I was intimidated before and she was confused. She said never this much! I am not that fucking good?
Should I publish this? (you know I will) Look! Look! It’s 4am again! What am I doing all night. I’m sitting here listening to Marilyn Manson covers. I didn’t know he had like a hundred. And I’m wondering cuz I’m not really her type. She tested me out. I think she had a guy in mind to have a mmf with but I told her it’s not my thing. I do enjoy being watched. But I don’t want touching.
I keep repeating myself. She laughed about the blanket being wet. I texted her after I pulled it off the bed, “Where do I send the bill for the blankets, sheets, mattress, box spring and carpet I have to replace. Haha. But I am serious, half my bedroom is flooded with pussy juice!
small town folk herded by television police into electrified corrals artificial fright and fantasy flights of fancy big brother isn’t watching you you are watching him watching him think for you live for you, die for you subliminally preaching the tenets of consumerist philosophy and intolerance broadcasting negatively charged transmissions disrupting the particle-wave relationship between mind and soul flip-particle-mind flip-wave-soul a positronic symphony of electro-chemical existences and symbiotic sufferings
“So why dispute me and waste my time? Because you really think the price is high for me I can’t look without being watched, no! You rang my buy before I made up my mind Oww!”
“Free Your Mind” En Vogue
I started to write this post Friday/Saturday around 4am. It was going to be a huge rant about some guy I don’t even know and I’m sure doesn’t remember me who I allowed to piss me off. I know I can’t control other people’s actions but this summer I have been working on controlling my reactions. You can see I still need to work on it as I am still trying to rant about it now and it is Monday morning. I am getting really good at it except when someone crosses my boundaries. I am glad I stopped myself because my reaction was out of proportion. He has no idea about my boundaries. I had a 3,000 word post written in my head describing every detail of who, what, where, when and why plus more imagined details about his life so I could get even more pissed. The whole time I knew I should stop and I was trying to stop. I forced myself to lie down and put an hour long relaxation meditation on the television. It calmed me but when it was over I got back up and started again. Fuck it! Another hour long video! I finally fell asleep around six am. (Look at me… I still want to veer off into those 3,000 words!)
It is something that has really been bugging me because I solved the problem when I was 18-20 years old but I can’t remember how. I didn’t like how people could push my buttons and send me through the roof. Some people would do it on purpose for laughs. I had it figured but it became an issue again a few years ago. I just didn’t realize it until now.
My phone alarm went off at quarter to nine (08:45) to remind me of my Zoom meditation. I didn’t set my alarm to quarter to his dumb ass. (22:Dumb Ass) Two months ago I was afraid to download Zoom and when I first heard of meditating with a group online I thought, How the fuck is that supposed to happen? I could not picture myself even trying it and now I’m wishing they did more sessions. It’s not even the meditation. Half the time when they shut off the cameras and mute the microphones I get up and make tea, eat an apple, take a piss, whatever? Sometimes I do the whole meeting. I enjoy it. I like the group (Community Mindfulness Project) because they are science based. But what I like most about it is the people. I think the most I’ve seen at one session was eight. It’s not the same people all the time but there are a few that I see a lot. But what do I have in common with them besides meditation. Like I said, that’s why I am there but not really. I can do that just as well on my own.
What do I have in common with the main coordinator who is a younger woman with a masters in neuroscience. Apparently a lot. Or the retired creative writing teacher who looks like he just rolled out of bed after a drunk? I guess that one makes sense. But what about the older black woman who I think may be homeless? Maybe not but she is always outside in whatever city with her camera on a selfie stick. We’ve had a couple great talks. I guess that one might make sense too. The other day it was just me, the scientist and someone I didn’t think we would get along. When it was done we talked for twenty minutes. I have more in common with them and feel better after than I do with the people in the online addiction meetings. (OMG… I still want to vent about it)
Saturday morning after the meditation I started getting pissed the night before again. Stop! I pulled out a piece of paper I use to write a plan of action when I am ruminating because I know that is a major factor in getting myself all angry. I only have a few and the plan of action is always the same. “Take no action.” But then I thought, there is an action I can take. Work on my reaction. I thought my biggest hurdle would be self acceptance but now acceptance of others has been popping up. I read some about it and the advice was let it go, forget about it, ignore it. I figured that, but how do I do it? It worked when I was younger. I read something helpful which was, “Accepting something doesn’t mean you have to like it” But if I accept it but still don’t like it. Aren’t I allowed to get a little mad? Is it healthy to just squash it? Something I still have to work on.
Then I was like, Fuck this shit! I know what the real problem is now. Back in June when I set my priorities and all the parts of my life I had to attend to in order to keep them straight; making myself go outside as much as possible on every nice day, bicycling or walking or whatever. That was for exercise, fresh air, sunshine and nature to help my mood and mental health; things I do every summer. It was easy because I was manic but somehow it turned into, “I’m going to screw up all my priorities.” I reset my mind on the plan and thought I got back on track but it still wasn’t right. I was still getting out every nice day but I was getting upset because nothing miraculous was happening to suddenly transform my life. What miracle was I expecting? That wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was each day I go out I feel a little better.
A week ago I started getting depressed but bouncing back and forth. I was actually praying for a rainy day so I wouldn’t have to go out and come home depressed. Friday it was finally cloudy and yes, I can stay home! But I still went out for a walk. I don’t know how or why… I remember telling myself to stay inside. I knew it was making me feel worse, I still did it. It was the worst walk of the year. I got back home thinking why did I do that? It’s not helping anymore. Time to change the plan. I’m feeling suicidal. I wanted to get drunk. I didn’t want to get drunk. I just wanted to stop feeling so horrible and slow the fuck down! Luckily I had reset my brain on that subject also. “You think you feel bad now? Imagine how you will feel when you wake up 4 days from now still feeling like this with a hangover on top of it, looking through your devices to see what you did… and flashes of saying crazy shit to people you don’t even know?”
Oh yeah, back to Saturday morning and fuck this shit. My mom texted and said the Red Sox play at 4:20. I know what the problem is. I haven’t taken a day off in months. Take the day off! Watch the game. Nothing! No going outside, no writing 3, 4 hours a day. Watch the game. You know what? Football is on all day tomorrow, take Sunday off too. All summer long I’ve been telling people to relax and cut themselves some slack but I haven’t been taking my own advice.
I know what you are thinking. (Because I can read your minds) A guy on disability has to take a day off? From what? I’m telling you. I was not resting. I remember the past couple weeks, doing shit all day then supposed to chill at night. No, I’m up, I got 14 tabs open on the computer, my tablet propped up against the monitor with whatever shit going on, typing 2,000 word blogs, while I’m writing 4 more posts in my head, I don’t write on the computer, I just type as fast as I can before I forget anything; getting irritated if I have to go back because I skipped something or have to reword it or didn’t correct a misspelling or change the grammar, switching to my offline journal or one of my lists or notes and don’t forget the pen and paper. And why the fuck does my mother keep texting me about baseball!? Okay, I turned the game on hours ago; it’s on mute to my left; they are winning.
(Saturday) My mother was was texting me about baseball because at the beginning of the season I got her into the Red Sox again because I was texting her the play by play. I don’t even care about baseball. I was just doing it to get through my anxiety and then the beginning of my upswing. It just turned out they had a really good team this year and they were exciting because almost every game you never who was going to do something great. All the players are great. She was texting me because they look like they are on the way to another World Series and I just missed them beat the Yankees in a one game do or die to get into the playoffs and I missed them beating Tampa in the first round! It’s not like the end of the world but I do like it. Somehow I cook dinner too.
[Aside] It reminds me of when I first started online dating and I would tell women I was on disability for bipolar. Some would be concerned and play 20 questions, worried if I’m violent some shit. (I’m not) But, so many times a woman’s first concern was, “What do you do all day?” What do I do all day? What do I do all day? What the fuck do you do all day? You are supposed to be doing your job but you have time to cruise dating sites and text me every two seconds. What do I do all day? “Whatever it takes to make it through the day.” I would say. Sometimes that would be the end of the conversation. [But I digress]
I shut down the computer and turned on the television. I couldn’t believe it! For the first time in I don’t know how long I was calm for more than a few hours in a row. I did try to watch Friday nights’ game and they lost. Doesn’t matter, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Saturday they crushed it! Last thing I remember was August and the whole team was in a slump. After holding first place all season they slipped down two spots. Now they look like the team I was telling my mom about months ago. Not only did they win in good fashion, they also pulled another one; the first team to hit two grand slams in one playoff game. Ever…. In 100 and whatever years of baseball. (Okay, so now I’m not so calm, but not too bad.)
[I’m getting worked up again. I’m looking at the clock and trying to type faster like I have a deadline. I don’t even have to finish this today.]
Saturday night I broke the rules and posted a poem. But it was only a copy and paste job. I couldn’t help it! It was all a dream. It meant something at the time.
Okay, I broke the rules Sunday morning too. I didn’t let myself sleep in, I set my alarm for another meditation. My mom texted football at 09:00 because the Dolphins were playing in London. Cool, it really is football all day. Think again! Halfway through I mute the t.v. and put on some music and I’m rifling through my papers trying to find to find the first draft of the first chapter of the book I’m never going to write. That is what I posted yesterday. I called it “Wet Dreams” trying to be funny but I already have a good title; “Adventures in Vagrancy” but I need really good opening line. It might not be the first chapter. Again, it seemed important at the time. I tell a lot of stories but I have never told that one. Like I just found out I only have a couple months left to live or something. I was reminded of it when I wrote the story last week about Joie and I getting let off a big hook by a cop who could have cuffed us and stuffed us! It was the first day I got depressed and I was going to type some really gruesome shit. Luckily that scene popped into my head and I sublimated.
Back to Sunday. The Patriots lost to the Cowboys but it was worth it. Friggin’ game was nuts! Even Romo who was calling the game and used to play quarterback for the Cowboys and is their biggest fan was getting excited about the Patriots. He didn’t care who won, he didn’t want the game to end. Maybe I didn’t take the weekend off. I was having some serious euphoric recall. After typing the story in the morning and the game in late afternoon, I caught myself and did a half hour breathing video. I could still catch the second half of the game and it was the best. There was still another game to go after that but I don’t like either team so I shut it down. I ate some good food and cooked and ate dinner late and went to my bedroom. Made it through the weekend!
Now I’m back at work! I’m slowing myself down now. Up early but made myself stay in bed. Started with another breathing. I haven’t had coffee for a while. I didn’t want to make my own so I went to the store. I was wondering why the Green Mountain in the dispenser looked so watery and noticed they had 6 new carafes. Labels, Pumpkin Spice, etc… “Eye Opener?” I must investigate. It had a long description but all I saw was, “A sinfully dark coffee with…” Sold! On the walk home I wrote the poem I posted earlier. (Guess who is on my mind) I texted my daughter before school. I stayed away from trying to give her a life lesson. Sometimes she just likes to know I’m there. My mom woke up just in time. She liked the coffee story.
I did have a good one for my daughter. I said, It’s not even Halloween and people are already creaming their jeans over xmas. She thought that was funny so I told her, I remember you were 8 and went on a huge rant when we drove by some xmas trees before thanksgiving. You had my mom and I cracking up!
Now here I am. I think I’m doing pretty good. This is coming from a man whose sanity check is, “Can I care for a cat?” Food, water and de-shitted the litter box all summer… So what do you think? I think I stressed him out. He is tired of taking care of me. He had been acting weird the past few nights, keeping me half awake walking circles around my head and over my chest and talking all night. When he does sleep, he crams himself behind the coffee maker and doesn’t look very comfortable. He never gets on the counter when I am awake so I don’t know. I’ve been pretty quiet and calm and giving him extra attention when he is awake. He has done this a few times in his 8 years.
When I started this blog I used to check my stats like crazy, then I had to take a break last winter/spring and when I came back I rarely looked. I used to be afraid to post more than twice a week but when I got back into it I posted almost every day. I noticed I would pick up followers faster so started checking my stats more. I rarely go back and read my own posts. If one gets more likes than usual or an interesting comment I will be interested in why or what I wrote. Also if someone like a post from a long time ago I’ll go back and wonder why or even how they found it. It’s been happening more often lately. I’m only mentioning because I thought it was strange this one got a like and a few views in the past 24 hours. I have never seen that on any of my posts before. It’s from September 21st at 02:00 and I am telling myself to take a fucking day off! Curiouser and curiouser
I was looking for you while I went for coffee this morning Searching every face Again the wrong place I imagine you would be happy to know I am back in the flow The right place at the right time After all these years writing senseless rhymes Getting back home and starting to cry I realize you were the reason I wanted to die I just wanted to thank you Goodbye
It really was love at first sight, for both of us. It was her constant smile that hooked me. He face glowed. She wore fatigues and a mohawk. I was intrigued. She sat in the passenger’s seat. I leaned in through the driver’s side window of Missy’s fire engine red ’77 Camaro. It was all she had left of her father. He died young. He was crazy like me.
I opened with my own crooked smile and non-stop interrogations. After a few minutes I invited them up to my room for a beer. Joie said she didn’t drink so I asked if she wouldn’t mind coming in and watching me drink.
They both followed me upstairs where I continued to put on a show. I hooked her with my manic style. I could be quite charming in that phase. My conversation was off the wall. I was testing her, trying to find out what it took to scare her. She just kept smiling. I was in an exceptionally good mood. The time flew by and I excused myself to leave for work but I invited Joie to wake me in the morning.
I worked the night shift at Texaco for chump change. I felt like a chump, but it kept money in my pocket and I was able to coast through the evenings. I was glib with the few customers I attended, messing with their three in the morning minds.
Two young, high school lovers asking for condoms that hung on the wall behind me. “Sure! What flavor?” I said too loudly. I think I had seen them somewhere before. He turned red but she just smiled and pointed. The rest of the night was mine. I used my time wisely. Reading books, drawing pictures, rifling shelves and smoking dope in the backroom.
On my nights off I partied with family, friends and strangers. I kept up a frenetic pace until everyone passed out. They couldn’t keep up with my deviant schedule. I would continue drinking and watch them sleep, wondering about their lives. What was it that let them function in apparently normal ways? (A friend once commented on my appetite for drugs, saying I needed twice as much just to feel straight. He was almost right)
Joie arrived at my house the next morning. She let herself in and sat on the couch where I was sleeping and punched my leg hard! I woke in an instant good mood. I was all over her verbally. I teased her about her hair and her clothes and her affect. She took it well. I wasn’t usually my style, but I was on the offensive; I liked it. She had to work at ten in the morning; it didn’t give us much time together.
I spent my days walking, I had endless reserves of energy. I walked loops around our small town, trails through the forest, always exploring. I spent most of the week in in the same routine; brief morning interludes, endless treks and eight hours purchased from my life each day by a heartless corporation. Already deep in love. I always looked forward to our meetings. She had a small room in a boarding house and we spent all of our free time together there.
When I met Joie I had a plan to escape my desperate life. I wanted to use the little money I had saved from my plebeian job to finance a trip across the United States. I was going to hitchhike; a method of travel that appealed to my fantasy-adventure lunatic mind. That was it. My master plan. It didn’t seem like much, but I knew there had to be more for me than slowly dying in this small town, knowing my role and getting used to it. Life looked so much better on the pages of my Rand-McNally road atlas. I was afraid of getting trapped in the American dream. Tied to a job working hard to pay for a house and car and family; making just enough money to stay in the same position for the rest of my life. It felt more like the American nightmare. It scared the hell out of me. I was desperately searching for an alternative.
I worried how and when to unveil my plans to Joie. It seemed our love could prove inconvenient or at least inopportune. It wasn’t easy and I turned it over in my mind for a few days. I even considerd scrapping the whole wanderlust idea. But I had a timetable and a stubborn mind. I decided to take a chance once on ruining the best thing in my life so far, by telling her sooner rather than later. “No better time like the present, and no better present than time.
I dropped it on her while she visited me at work. We wer finding more ways to spend time together.
“Where are you gonna go?”
I don’t know. More of a direction than a destination, but I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon.”
“You don’t have any money?”
“Five hundred bucks. I figure that will get me through the summer and I gotta come back in the fall to harvest my plants.”
“And you’re definitely going?”
“Yeah. I was hoping you’d come with me, but either way, I’ll only be gone for three months; for if the weather is lucky.”
She cried. She didn’t want to leave her mom with whom she had recently reconciled since moving to New Hampshire. She left that night without giveing mean answer. The next day she came to my house and said yes. I was neve so excited as I was that day. I bolted out of slumber and babbled about what a great time we would have and how we would find a different, better life.
These prison walls become a a sanctuary Built by my own hand Blocking out the tortured landscape of my mind Outside Clocks ticking Thoughts sticking Images breached Dark creatures speak of my soulless wandering Stop Cast a spell Time will tell Minds fire Bodies tire Sleep comes too easily Shaken Awakened Words broken Misspoken Passively absent Caressing distress Aggressively tested Death would be best Second is life The devil’s midwife Giving birth to strife Demanding to be fed Children led to slaughter Sacrificial daughters Lie down in hunger’s stead Bloody poisoned streams Fill the mouths that scream Drowning fields of dreams Up above the fray Circling birds of prey Eyes and ears of clay Smoke, ashes, dust and bones A king has fallen from the throne Rising above a windswept plain A mother’s muffled cry in vain Deny the wolf’s hunger Starving for pain