I'm what you'd call a wannabe. I hang out here at SG wanting to be young again and I'm not ever gonna be. My life is filled with doctor's appointments for me and my dad who I am the primary caregiver for.
I used to be this metalhead back in the 80s. I ran around with my concert tees and jeans with my leather studded arm bands and my dog chain locked around my neck. I listened, and still do, to thrash metal from one degree or another. I find myself missing those days.
Now I get the occassional new ink, I go to the occassional show (I'm picky about who I see). Mostly my life is work and then home for more work. My good times mostly consist of going to an AA meeting to hook up with some friends then home after the meeting to the boob tube or the computer and SG. I'm fucking bored with it all.
I'm having my uterus burned up on the 25th. I scheduled it for that day because that's a day of celebration for me. I'll have 18 years of continuous sobriety on that day. I can't think of a better way to celebrate then to burn that muther fucker so it never bleeds again. For those who think I've taken Rigor Mortis too far it's call ablation. The need for it is another sign of being fucking old.
I have been feeling like I want to start dating again. You know, spring is in the air and all even though it's still fucking 15 degrees here. I miss companionship. I miss someone having my back. I miss falling asleep next to someone warm. No, no fucking cuddling shit. But next to them, feeling their heat. Problem is or problems are, I don't feel sexy anymore. I don't feel like I have the energy to let some man or woman get to know me anymore. What used to sound like fun and excitement now sounds like a drag. All the pretense and shite.
Back to the ink. This fucking surgery has cost me the ink for now. Durb's probably pissed off at me because I had to put it on hold. A sleeve is some good jack for a tattooist for God's sake. He probably wants my money and who can blame him? I just don't have any choice. I'm self-employed, my only employee and no benefits. Being responsible and doing first things first...ANOTHER SIGN OF BEING OLD! FUCK ME!
Maybe I just need to get laid. I haven't just sport fucked in ages and eons. Still there's pretense. You gotta be all excited about it. Service me, let me service you, get the fuck out cuz I don't want drama. Or, wait, maybe I need drama so I can focus on bullshit rather then reality. But you know how it goes, when 2 lay down in lust one always gets up in love. It's usually not me anymore. I'm pretty reality based. Not that I'm all that cuz I surely don't feel like I'm all that anymore but wtf, expectations? Fuck.
I dunno. I hate blogging. I've never done it anywhere but SG. I don't know why I've even done it here. I guess I'm hoping someone will tell me how not to just exisist but to live again!
I used to be this metalhead back in the 80s. I ran around with my concert tees and jeans with my leather studded arm bands and my dog chain locked around my neck. I listened, and still do, to thrash metal from one degree or another. I find myself missing those days.
Now I get the occassional new ink, I go to the occassional show (I'm picky about who I see). Mostly my life is work and then home for more work. My good times mostly consist of going to an AA meeting to hook up with some friends then home after the meeting to the boob tube or the computer and SG. I'm fucking bored with it all.
I'm having my uterus burned up on the 25th. I scheduled it for that day because that's a day of celebration for me. I'll have 18 years of continuous sobriety on that day. I can't think of a better way to celebrate then to burn that muther fucker so it never bleeds again. For those who think I've taken Rigor Mortis too far it's call ablation. The need for it is another sign of being fucking old.
I have been feeling like I want to start dating again. You know, spring is in the air and all even though it's still fucking 15 degrees here. I miss companionship. I miss someone having my back. I miss falling asleep next to someone warm. No, no fucking cuddling shit. But next to them, feeling their heat. Problem is or problems are, I don't feel sexy anymore. I don't feel like I have the energy to let some man or woman get to know me anymore. What used to sound like fun and excitement now sounds like a drag. All the pretense and shite.
Back to the ink. This fucking surgery has cost me the ink for now. Durb's probably pissed off at me because I had to put it on hold. A sleeve is some good jack for a tattooist for God's sake. He probably wants my money and who can blame him? I just don't have any choice. I'm self-employed, my only employee and no benefits. Being responsible and doing first things first...ANOTHER SIGN OF BEING OLD! FUCK ME!
Maybe I just need to get laid. I haven't just sport fucked in ages and eons. Still there's pretense. You gotta be all excited about it. Service me, let me service you, get the fuck out cuz I don't want drama. Or, wait, maybe I need drama so I can focus on bullshit rather then reality. But you know how it goes, when 2 lay down in lust one always gets up in love. It's usually not me anymore. I'm pretty reality based. Not that I'm all that cuz I surely don't feel like I'm all that anymore but wtf, expectations? Fuck.
I dunno. I hate blogging. I've never done it anywhere but SG. I don't know why I've even done it here. I guess I'm hoping someone will tell me how not to just exisist but to live again!
VIEW 22 of 22 COMMENTS
I just wanted to stop by and say good luck with the surgery tomorrow! I'll be thinking of you!