self

then.. i drank some more scotch.
the thing is, scotch is fucking fantastic in the morning.
the first glass is a lot like burning. the second glass is a lot like redemption and forgiveness. bliss might be a factor, but that just sounds so poetic and cliche that i hesitate to use it. silly words.

i woke up with good intentions. do laundry, wash dishes, eat breakfast, exercise, do homework.
simple things are easily clouded by real things. REAL things.
drink scotch.
yep.
that’s the beginning of our story.

i have cats, i’m not sure if you know. maybe you have them, maybe you hate them, maybe you’re indifferent. i have two cats. i love them more than most humans i’ve ever met. maybe i’m a crazy catperson. i’m okay with that. i started my day by petting my cats. i pressed my face into their sides and their bellies because, sweet christ, that makes e feel good about the world. like any other drug, though, it’s temporary. i needed more..

i drank another glass of scotch. (wait- another? isn’t this the first?)
i drank another glass of scotch.
either the repetition is for emphasis or it’s because i drank another glass.
details are sketchy.
do you know that it is impossible to buy a bottle of liquor on the entire portland peninsula? seriously. people who live here rarely think of that.
i drank another glass of scotch.

i love my new apartment.
sweet jesus mithras, i love my new apartment. but..
indoor reality occasionally threatens to consume me in it’s beautiful mundane monotony.
so, after the dishes, after the scotch, after the yeah yeah yeahs, after shpongle (feat. terence mckenna), and after the future bible heroes of america, i ventured out…
but, first, another glass of scotch. or maybe i’m still on the first, second, thir-

solitude is bliss. fantastic, ordinary, aloneness is possible only in the most sublime and understandable states of being.
“religion is what a man does with his solitariness” – whitehead
“build your house upon a rock and never feel the desire to leave” – nobody (but there’s a biblical residue here.._
“estates built in nowhere are not likely to topple” – somebody i’ve forgotten
so, in theory, everything is cool as long as i don’t leave the house.
…
i left the house.

went to 7-11 to see people, real people. success, as long as the bar is understood to be held quite low.
went to starbucks to see the boy with the cute smile. he wasn’t there but his pants were too tight.
went to the empire to see the girl who talks to me. she wasn’t there but her teeth are crooked in a way that makes me think of sanford.
went to dunkin’ donuts to see nobody at all, but they were there, as always. i thought about their story and felt a little dirty.
went to the bathroom. thought about jerking off, but instead i wrote “JHVH1″ on the ceiling and drank scotch.

fuck you, world.
i love you and i want to stab you with broken nasal spray bottles at the same time.
everything immediately breaks down under a certain amount of pressure. all that is left over is a lie.

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This entry was posted by iambarr on Wednesday, February 17th, 2010 at 13:17 and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.