Loneliness. Part Two, it would appear.
So continues my blast from the past. As I said before, I found it interesting that in the first part of this I used a third-person viewpoint to narrate. Then, here, I find myself using first-person. Why the change? Did I intend the first part to be a selection from a larger narrative or story I wanted to tell? Or did I decide it was absurd to put myself out of myself in order to get the emotion across?
Who knows? Not I, assuredly. The question is neither here nor there, I'm afraid. That is what I did, therefore that is what I will transcribe here. No reason to edit when I'm just copying, so take it for what it is, as I am doing.
By the way, I'm not certain of the time frame between the last one of these I so diligently penned. I believe it was a day or two.
_____________________________
I don't have a TV.
Well, I do have a TV, but it has not been delivered yet. She took the one we had (feels weird to say HAD, but there it is), which is understandable considering it is hers. But now I don't have one. It's been so long since I have been in this situation, and it leaves me wondering what to do, exactly.
Don't get me wrong, I like reading and all, but it still feels like I'm disconnected somehow. I don't think we realize the utter dependency we have on small, material - if you will - things. I don't watch news, really, so it's not like I'm really missing anything there. I work at a TV station that does strictly sports, so ESPN isn't a daily necessity. I haven't seen a boob in a few days now... that kind of sucks.
But otherwise, what am I missing? A movie I've already seen over and over? The chance to play a game that I own that I've played the hell out of already? Sitcom shows that will be repeated countless times? Commercials? Fuck that, can't stand 'em. Although, the energy-drink-eye-of-the-tiger one is pretty funny. I work at a TV station, where there is a monitor or 10 in every room. It's not like I never see the thing. So what is it?
Maybe the loneliness thing again. Although, I had a TV before and that didn't help, so that can't be it. The glow, I guess. Just having it there. If I'm reading, I can have it on muted, maybe it keeps my apartment from being so damn empty. That's got to be part of it. My walls are pretty much barren. Shit, who am I kidding? You know what I have up on my walls? ONE PICTURE.
It's a good'n, mind you. A big silkscreen pic of Baltimore done in 1975. She bought it for me after we were dating for about 2 months. The fucker cost almost 600 bucks. That'll teach her to drink, right? That shocked the hell out of me, when I first saw it sitting in her room. Helluva thing. It's a pretty strong connection to her, which brings up some hurt, I suppose, but it's not just that. I liked the hell out of it ever since I saw it in the bar. Always talked about how I was going to buy it someday. It's now a reminder of what it was like then, that would be about 3 years ago or so, I think.
When everyone was around. When I hit the bar and knew half the people in it. Nowadays I go in, I might know 3 people, maybe no one but the bartender. Sit there at the bar, drink, and hope someone shows up or calls me or something. It sucks, in a word. So I sit here alone, then go out with nobody and meet up with no one. Quite a life, huh? Not my fault, really. Damn musicians moving around trying to break into the biz. It was like everyone scattered right around the same time. All of a sudden, every other day or every week you hear "So and so's moving to so and so with so and so." Great, happy for 'em.
Part of me thought everything would be great to get back here. Settle in, re-insert myself, return to the haunts, etc. The rest of me knew it wouldn't and couldn't like that, which is why that side fought against it. But I had to get her out of that town. Her happiness topped mine in importance. I didn't force her there, but still, the responsibility fell to me. Now I'm here, she's gone, things have changed.
The world has moved on, to steal from King.
I guess I'm moving with it, albeit only because the current is moving that way. Lord knows I'm not swimming. Almost wading against it, trying to backpedal my way to how things were. I know I have to stop myself from blaming her, or even blaming anything. No one's responsible for my decisions or actions or blatant lack thereof. I can change, but for some reason I'm also fighting full-tilt against it. That's why I'm up at 5am, sleeping 'till 2pm. That's why my pant size grows, why my shirts get tighter. Cuz I won't change.
Hell, I got pissed when my other pen died! And now this one's going as you can see. Although, I will probably transfer this to computer, so that last bit is moot. But the point is not. If we don't allow ourselves to change, what the fuck point is there to doing anything? A merri-go-round loses it's fun eventually. It's easy to write that, now I just gotta live it.
Yeah, try telling that to me.
I promise I'll try to stop whining so fuckin' much.
Who knows? Not I, assuredly. The question is neither here nor there, I'm afraid. That is what I did, therefore that is what I will transcribe here. No reason to edit when I'm just copying, so take it for what it is, as I am doing.
By the way, I'm not certain of the time frame between the last one of these I so diligently penned. I believe it was a day or two.
_____________________________
I don't have a TV.
Well, I do have a TV, but it has not been delivered yet. She took the one we had (feels weird to say HAD, but there it is), which is understandable considering it is hers. But now I don't have one. It's been so long since I have been in this situation, and it leaves me wondering what to do, exactly.
Don't get me wrong, I like reading and all, but it still feels like I'm disconnected somehow. I don't think we realize the utter dependency we have on small, material - if you will - things. I don't watch news, really, so it's not like I'm really missing anything there. I work at a TV station that does strictly sports, so ESPN isn't a daily necessity. I haven't seen a boob in a few days now... that kind of sucks.
But otherwise, what am I missing? A movie I've already seen over and over? The chance to play a game that I own that I've played the hell out of already? Sitcom shows that will be repeated countless times? Commercials? Fuck that, can't stand 'em. Although, the energy-drink-eye-of-the-tiger one is pretty funny. I work at a TV station, where there is a monitor or 10 in every room. It's not like I never see the thing. So what is it?
Maybe the loneliness thing again. Although, I had a TV before and that didn't help, so that can't be it. The glow, I guess. Just having it there. If I'm reading, I can have it on muted, maybe it keeps my apartment from being so damn empty. That's got to be part of it. My walls are pretty much barren. Shit, who am I kidding? You know what I have up on my walls? ONE PICTURE.
It's a good'n, mind you. A big silkscreen pic of Baltimore done in 1975. She bought it for me after we were dating for about 2 months. The fucker cost almost 600 bucks. That'll teach her to drink, right? That shocked the hell out of me, when I first saw it sitting in her room. Helluva thing. It's a pretty strong connection to her, which brings up some hurt, I suppose, but it's not just that. I liked the hell out of it ever since I saw it in the bar. Always talked about how I was going to buy it someday. It's now a reminder of what it was like then, that would be about 3 years ago or so, I think.
When everyone was around. When I hit the bar and knew half the people in it. Nowadays I go in, I might know 3 people, maybe no one but the bartender. Sit there at the bar, drink, and hope someone shows up or calls me or something. It sucks, in a word. So I sit here alone, then go out with nobody and meet up with no one. Quite a life, huh? Not my fault, really. Damn musicians moving around trying to break into the biz. It was like everyone scattered right around the same time. All of a sudden, every other day or every week you hear "So and so's moving to so and so with so and so." Great, happy for 'em.
Part of me thought everything would be great to get back here. Settle in, re-insert myself, return to the haunts, etc. The rest of me knew it wouldn't and couldn't like that, which is why that side fought against it. But I had to get her out of that town. Her happiness topped mine in importance. I didn't force her there, but still, the responsibility fell to me. Now I'm here, she's gone, things have changed.
The world has moved on, to steal from King.
I guess I'm moving with it, albeit only because the current is moving that way. Lord knows I'm not swimming. Almost wading against it, trying to backpedal my way to how things were. I know I have to stop myself from blaming her, or even blaming anything. No one's responsible for my decisions or actions or blatant lack thereof. I can change, but for some reason I'm also fighting full-tilt against it. That's why I'm up at 5am, sleeping 'till 2pm. That's why my pant size grows, why my shirts get tighter. Cuz I won't change.
Hell, I got pissed when my other pen died! And now this one's going as you can see. Although, I will probably transfer this to computer, so that last bit is moot. But the point is not. If we don't allow ourselves to change, what the fuck point is there to doing anything? A merri-go-round loses it's fun eventually. It's easy to write that, now I just gotta live it.
Yeah, try telling that to me.
I promise I'll try to stop whining so fuckin' much.
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