‘Nother Awful Evening
May 14, 2012 § Leave a comment
As opposed to the tortured and alienated schtick that I usually find so very human and creative and HIGH and jesus, fuck, whatever, I am now officially, truly, comprehensively fucked. I will try to recount the most recent events, but I warn the reader that I am befuddled with spirits, and intend to increase this situation via the confirmation of more spirits over the course of the next hour or so. Thus, my written English may not be at its most exemplary, but this is a peripheral concern since I am recording for my own personal curiosity, and you are merely a parasite on the system, sucking, sucking, sucking like a hungry suck face at my sucking suck holes.
Now, Dear Future Me:
Remember tonight? It’s 2012, and you are, even by your own standards, very much alone. You were in a humanities department, earlier, in which you are, at the time of writing, enrolled in two subjects and some vague and horrendous project called a creative thesis which holds as much appeal as a pointy muddy syphilitic dick monster in the eye, other eye, or eyes. You are thinking of discontinuing this endeavour, based on an assessment of your own unsuitability and a bunch of other similar assessments, and your own pulsing, oozing, clawing unsuitablility. However you found yourself – earlier, but not as early as before – raising a glass of overpriced ale into the overpriced-ale-hued and indistinguishably furbished urban environs and declaring: “I’ll keep it up, chaps! I’ll see it through!” which may or may not have meant something but was definitely language. Most of the people in your class are fanatical in a not especially deep way about one or other popular theorist and/or one or other local academic, the latter seeming to figure as having risen barely and waveringly above this steaming bog of cliche. I will now regress, which you can be sure of by my switch to the present tense and then to an entirely different tense altogether.
There appears to be one guy who is there merely by accident and seems to be constantly assessing the degree to which he is disappointingly trapped with a sliding scale of sexually unappealing women. There are chips on shoulders. The conversation so far has lingered on how much everyone hates the course, the material, and how they find the work mainly a pointless exercise in “sucking academic cock”. I venture to ask whether anyone feels like seizing upon this fact, as I do, and maybe putting one or two of the dim dark lessons of the great minds which still manage to poke through the muck (regardless of all we have discussed), to use, by highlighting some of the contradictions and hardships we have experienced, but the resounding answer from most is that they would very much like to pass their course.
*You then had a slippery conversation about anarchy with someone who really liked anarchy. The anarchist probably won, because stuff has stuff wrong with it. You then remembered advice from boyfriends past: if you are in a new group that seems highly political and they have played the first card, say nothing about yourself, or if you must say something, make it all lies. Try a few different versions. Soon you will figure out who is good at spreading shit, by which ones come back to you. It will probably open up the opportunity to contradict yourself next time (so don’t forget to!), and if you are really lucky people will think that you are mad.
I can’t do this much more. If I hang on much longer it will be for my mum, who has redeemed herself immensely through distance. I don’t think I’m oh DFUCKING that’s my housemate blowing his nose into the sink. Is it really intolerant of me to find that gross? I just can’t go near the sink anymore. I avoid the sink here. Oh yeah – so have you ever suddenly realised that basically everything has been a mistake? You should leave. You should leave. You should leave. You should leave. You should leave.
Is there even a home to go back to? It’s just something you remember from when you were useful to someone. It wasn’t even really there before. It’s gone.