And the alien did decree: "abstract pangs of loss"
7:10 PM - Monday, Apr. 19, 2010
Before the nonsense, & After the bullshit.
Operator - Jim CroceI am alone
In a rollercoaster day.
Day:
- Didn't sleep all night; worked on Japanese. Fucking coffee
- Headed out at 8:30, headed for LD -- closed 'til 9
- Hit a coffee shop. Stayed for a long while to chat with the proprietor about my stupid-ass life [apparently rambling overtakes me again with no sleep]
- Hit Jay's; he liked my company so much, he asked me to come back later
- Hit a Chinese restaurant. Ate so quick that the hostess commented upon it
- Hit the bank; found out rent hadn't gotten paid
- Rushed home; called the program, and found out they hadn't bothered to notice whether or not my cheque came in -- still no conclusion on how that ended, got a little note in the door semi-threatening eviction for later-than-the-1st rent payments. I got that in on the 3-4th, it's not my fault that the doofs didn't cash it yet. It's not my fucking job to hound them; I'm peeved about the notice because I usually pay 1-2 weeks in advance. Fucking hell
- Found out I was about to miss my appointment with Dr. Y; rushed to that. Talked to the pharmacist about the things growing in my boiling pot -- I bleached it, and the things got bigger. Must just be the pot?
- Y was in good spirits. As usual, practically called me a mad genius. Gotta love a guy who will reword 'eccentric' in to some kind of fluke skill points
- Got him to look at a foot; what I thought was warts turned out to be hammertoe. Great; my feet are warping
- What saved my mood there was finding out that the sleeping pills were finally covered. Got those suckers, and boogied the fuck on
- Went back to Jay's store. Rambled at Adam a little; he was high, so it all was pretty silly. It seems Nostalgia Roadtrip shit started about then
- I hushed up, and looked through books. Left when the rest did
- The rest is pretty trivial, until:
- I had a random flash-fry depression spat. It was a Big-D moment. It was a, "I don't know WHAT I miss about him anymore; all my thoughts on him have melted in to abstract pangs of loss and regret," moment
- Yammered at Joe-bo about Big-D. Teared up a little, but didn't full-on bawl. All I could think of were the sickly times, mine/his. Abstract remembrances of hugs, his funny bear nose. The way I felt like we knew each other inside out; at least.. he knew me that way
It's coming back; second wave.
I miss ya, ya bastard. I don't even know why. I was your cash cow, your baby-making prot�g�.
I miss the smell of you. I'm not you -- I have to remember that Old Spice and your shampoo never made me smell like you. I can't shop like you anymore, either.
Fuck, Big-D.
I pose this to the blank face of the internet: does he ever miss me this odd way, or is it all hate now?
I don't miss the lonely evenings, with you on the computer, and me begging you to take me to a coffee shop, an ice cream parlor -- anywhere. A park. "Let's go for a walk," was my keyphrase for, "[D] -- I want to wander, and shoot the shit like we used to." All my sad little nights, fretting over wracking my brain for topics to pose. Anything. Anything to make you talk to me.
As if I interested you.
Like before.
Jesus.
It's not even a sexual keening. It's a cry in my soul for the friend I had in you, you fucker. Did I ever really have that, at all?
I hate you for having the power to make me this sad, 12+ months after you eject me away.
I hate myself for giving you the reason.
Before the nonsense, & After the bullshit.
