The American Caliban (substitute) wrote,
The American Caliban
substitute

I have three (3) bad songs in my head.

Tonight i was supposed to hang out with the crew, and they were all going bowling mostly. I did indeed see my friends, and they’re nice people and we hung out a bit. I couldn’t make it as far as bowling. I’m pretty down right now and being around the group is something I can only do for a couple of hours, I guess.

Something between petulance, shame, unrequited puppy love, and an egotistical unwillingness to admit reality is riding me lately, like a man rides a horse. The better part of me knows how dumb that is, but the big rejected dick is in charge of the serotonin, the testosterone, and most of the sympathetic nervous system. My apologies.

Lately I have a serious Quixotic wish that people could all hang out in a pack and sleep together in piles like cats. Exclusivity and ownership and competition and possession turn all this love into shit.

Since we can’t have that vision of Paradise, we try our best to get what we want and do good for others. I fail, you fail, they fail, he fails, she fails, we fail, one fails.

There’s part of loving someone that makes you feel big and important, because you have such a good feeling about another person and want so much for that person to be happy. And then there’s the other side of that, when you realize that how you feel isn’t that important, and that you can’t necessarily give everyone what makes sense to you, and that the needy part of your feeling can be hurtful to others just when you want the opposite. And that’s where we re-learn each time how to conjugate failure.
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