I am bored and restless, which is a bad way to be on a quiet night without enough energy to make things happen. Most of the people I know are occupied by All Tonight’s Parties, so the usual haunts are quiet. Drove around out of boredom, ended up back at my house. The saddest voyages loop back and return to home. Viewing the world through my windshield. Isolated, air-conditioned, insulated, sanitized.
Feeling creative, but not enough to make things happen. Song in my pocket. Want to record it. Mostly written, but stuck in my head for two years. I look at my music equipment, play it, know what I need to do to make it happen. But when I arm the Record button, nothing. Just want to turn it off. Why bother? Why bother.
So I’m sipping on vodka against doctor’s orders, looking at the internet, waiting until it’s time for passing out to sleep. Feeling of malaise today; I blame the antibiotics.
Also watched a depressing movie, “The Day After”. Reminded me of the fears of youth, of the ever-present threat of mutually-assured destruction, nuclear armageddon around the corner. What of it now? Too many players in the nuclear club. Things were sharper when we had one enemy. Our focus was like a knife blade. Now everybody’s in the game, and the enemy is ourselves.
Sinus infection is fading out. It looked like allergies, but really germs were to blame. Azithromycin is the poison now. I wonder if malaise is among its side effects. May cause diarrhea, intestinal cramping, sensitivity to sunlight, heat stroke, funny taste to mouth, avoidance of quiz shows, dyslexia, dyspepsia, dystopia, onomatopoeia, death, erections lasting longer than 4 hours, internal bleeding, headache, nausea, and voting Independent. Ask your doctor if Azithromycin is right for you.
I’ve been told my blog entries make no sense. So sue me. Sometimes, you gotta work to pick up what I’m laying down. Can you dig it?
I find it difficult to be not lonely. I don’t mean hanging out with people. That’s easy, just go to the cafe. I mean being with someone who’ll leave the cafe with me. Dance, music, sex, romance. Been over a year since my last date. Difficult making moves when there are no pieces on the board, when there are better players in the game. Grow a pair, they say. Grow a pair, I say. Positive thinking. Magical thinking. That’ll help. Stand up straight. Shoulders back. Look strong. Look viable. Look alive. They will come to you. This all means nothing.
Passing the time thinking about ones far away. It’s a futile effort. Wasted time. Easy, safe, no risk. People are more than words on a screen. Best to push buttons across a table within arm’s reach. At least you can have that someone leave the cafe with you.
Desperation is a stench that takes a while to wash off. Others can smell it. The only cure is to not care, not desire, not want, and to walk alone. But will they come to you? No. Back to square one.
I’m done. No more buzzed philosophy.