apathy_activist

So I went out with her again tonight.

(In Writing class we learned that you're not supposed to start a sentence with a preposition. Is 'so' a preposition?)

Second time in two weeks.

I've been so alone for so long; I meet so few new people, and go out with even less of them.

Even when I'm not that interested, I start rationalizing. Just silly things, the things that normally you could erase from your mind with a tblspn. of common-sense and a dash of fear.

But when you're alone, you romanticize social activites, and treat every ineraction like it's the 'magic moment.'

Am I socially disabled? Psycotic? Both?

After getting fucking loaded, she wanted to go back to her place and drink more Rye (or 'Canadian Whisky') and watch the Royal Tannumbaums. The logic said, "Wow! I love Rye and that movie. That will be fun."

But isolation and fear said, "Dude, that's not cool. You enjoy this girl's company. She's got a boyfriend. She's going to marry this guy. You can't enjoy the company of this person without thinking of it as a sexual thing. And, Dude, I don't mean the <i>sexual</i> sexual thing. Or thang, or whatever. I mean the interplay bewteen the sexes. You have never had a non-sexual female friend. Because everytime you did, you always thought deep down you were going to fall in love. Or, at the very least, get drunk and make out. But, it never happened, so now you just don't bother. Not because you don't want to befriend people, but because the friendship, no matter how rich, always ends up a disappointment. You'll always get drunk together. Just never make out.

So here we are. The loves are lost and not loved at all and the friends are punished for it.

I'm both psycotic + socially disabled.


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Who's seen Trailer Park Boys?

I tried to emulate Julian tonight. Not in the Trans Am or the Track Pants (although I'd love to.)

Rum + Coke.

In my hands. At all time.