I Should Write In This Thing More Often…

I Should Write in this Thing More Often - Why I Write

I’m not sure what is going on with me lately, but I’ve been compelled to write about my pathetic little universe and broadcast it to the rest of the world the everyday status of my life. I’m not sure if it gives me purpose, or if it validates my existence any more or less…. but when I feel such things, I tend to become much more dark and reclusive than I already am. I need a life… this is something that I have come to realize for the past few years…

 

work life family career balance crossword goalsI’ve made great strides though… both in making friends and in putting together a pathetic string of events to occupy my time since the single-ness began once again. It seems now though, that I have lost a step… like I have lost a big part of what I accomplished. It’s like without having the time to devote to the social life, its not there when I DO have the rare moments of time for it.

 

I learn more and more about life… and about myself with every long ass fucking day that passes by. My dirty-ass, messy, stankin like pizza, leakin oil, fuckin-up-radiator, no air conditioned, worn out clutch, super delivery mobile has no stereo thanks to the friendly punk ass thug wanna be bitch ass muthafuckers of south st pete that jacked my TAPE DECK and didn’t get the wiring harness, so they can’t even use the fucker anyway.

 

When you run 17+ deliveries on a slow week night listening only to the sound of your 134K+ mile engine, I suppose you’re more prone to wander in your thoughts… I know its cliché’ but… I’m never alone, but I’m alone all the time. I don’t know how to relate to people anymore… no one lives like I live. No one goes what I go through, so… naturally… no one feels the way I do. And its nobodies fault but mine. I’m busting my fuckin ass…. but for what? I really wonder what the fuck I’m doing sometimes…. why can’t I just be a normal 24 yr old guy and work my pizza gig all half ass like and be happy with what I get? What makes me so fucking special?

 

Yea, cool, I drive a new car, wow, a whopping 15 miles a day… fuck a bunch of delivering in a car like that, I already had a almost tragic “yes I got airborne” experience in it…

never again…

well… at least not on the clock anyway

-wink-

I want…. no, I NEED my fucking house… I got sooooo much more work to do before I can swing it, but I think its do-able still by March. My original goal was to have my own house/condo by the time I turned 25, but fuck man… it’s not going to be easy… yet I know myself well enough to know that I’ve done the impossible before, and this is just another chance to do it again. I’m out of my fucking tree… sure, I drive like an asshole and get PAID. I’m the original rebel tech kickin it with the mop following in the 120 mph winds with the windows down and the sunroof open… I am hard core. I just can’t be superman… shit that others dump on me wears on me… it fucks with the faith I have in myself… in mankind. I have seen me at my best when I’m at my worst, and I’m back on that same path…

 

It’s funny how even with my years of wisdom and all these FUCKED UP life experiences… I still have my little patterns of madness that have always ruled my future. Even when I was a little naive dumbass at 17 years old, I would have these delusions of grandeur and refuse to give up the impossible hope of both graduating high school with an unprecedented 0.8 GPA and finish a 4 month “drug counseling” in 8 weeks – but fuck man, I did it. AND I worked my 40 every week.

 

Back in the Day Bad MamajamaHa. Even back in the day I was a hardcore pit-bull muffucker, aint nuthin changed but the date. I’d really like to step outside of my own world… away from all the tech shit, away from all the pizza place drama, and away from everyone and their fucking bullshit issues with themselves, and meet someone that I can connect with on a deeper level… not talk about other people, or events or places, but ideas… fundamentals… theory… the process of enlightenment and life itself… I miss being able to express myself in such ways… I feel incomplete… I wonder how much of this emptiness I try to fill with a love interest… is it possible for any woman to satisfy such needs? I’m really no good at dating… I get worse with time, only because I learn what it takes to get what most people want… lies.

 

Dating and lies are like synonyms to me… you can’t have one without the other. It’s oh so humorous to consider the facts… Sure… I could be with a few different girls right now, not single, coming home to a warm body in my bed -sigh-… but I REFUSE to let myself be fucked with. I’d rather rot all alone than be with some bitch that can’t make up her fucking mind on what it is that she wants in a relationship. I’m good at getting fucked over, it’s a hat I wear well, but it’s also something I choose not to experience on a daily basis. I’m far too aware of what the women in my past have plotted and gotten away with, but only in my hindsight. I don’t think I’m scared of being alone anymore… I’m just tired of expecting less… It’s time I start writing again…

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