So I’m reading lots this website called “Texts from last night” which is pretty good, I have to admit, but its making me feel like I have missed out on something. I’m reading a lot of texts that have a “I was soo drunk and fucked such and such” and all I can think is ‘So, when does this happen to me? Am I too old, did I miss my chance somehow? And where are all these girls that have anal sex in nightclub toilets?’ (According to this website, there are a lot of them). I am seriously beginning to worry that I did not participate enough in my younger days, that I should have at least 1 tattoo that I regret, I should have naughty Polaroid’s that I don’t remember taking, that I should have at least one encounter on the street where I run into someone that I have had sex with, but don’t recall. Embarrassingly, my list of sexual conquests is far shorter than I wish it were, but what am I going to do, go out and commit a bunch of rape?
As sickening as it is, that last line made me laugh. ‘A bunch of rape’. Sometimes bad English is more fun than behaving badly. But anyway, moving on, and this brings me to my next point.
Since when did sexual violence become so readily accepted in today’s day and age? I was talking to a friend the other day about taboos and such, about how once the blow job was an unacceptable topic of discussion and a bit taboo, and now it’s a prerequisite for being a teenage girl, I mean, what the fuck, where is this middle ground and how did we cover it so quickly? We could use this information to invent some sort of faster than light travel perhaps. I feel the same way about violence and sex. It used to be pretty risqué tying someone up and then fucking them, you know, but now it seems like you can’t have sex with someone without giving them a touch up first, and I don’t mean a gentle caress.
Now I understand that not everyone is out there beating the shit out of their girlfriends pussy, I know that its not everyone’s cup of tea, but I’m worried that it will become more standard and more common as time goes by. I know that we’re not all going around raping unconscious 16yr old girls and filming it on our mobile phones like certain army recruits, (while I’m here can I just say that this is not the sort of person I want protecting my country)(unless he is a human shield) but I have this terrible fear that we’re close to being the people that will say “Yeah, I’ll watch that”. Which I almost think is scarier, the fact that for our own titillation, we’ll watch someone being violated. I know that this isn’t ‘Kids’ by Larry Clarke, but the problem is, we’re not that far off. Our music is overtly sexualized, now we don’t even listen to what’s inside the cover because what’s on the cover is distracting out attention.
The problem is that we are becoming so desensitized to these things that we no longer feel the moral outrage that we used to, it no longer effects us. I have watched so many videos of people dying that it means nothing to me now. More often than not the only thoughts I have when I watch them are on the angles, the lighting and how hard it would be to re-create to get it feeling so realistic. Like when I saw that Bud Dwyer footage and I thought, not un-ironically, “Wow, that was beautifully shot.”
I realize that adding humor to this topic is about as far from good taste as I could get but I wanted to point how just how acceptable it is now. All the best new jokes are rape or pedophilia jokes, its like they somehow want us to make it acceptable. I once wanted to write an article titled “The sexualisation of our teens: Why the left hand doesn’t want to know what the right hand is doing” but I figured what the hell, no one cares because we’re too busy taking advantage of the free buffet that we have created.
Mouths full and up to the elbows, we dine like the pigs that we are.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Perceptions.
So with all these headaches comes a lessening of my grip on reality. For every hour that I don't sleep and spend in pain instead, I seem to be taking a step away from what real and whats not. I have realised that the worse my headaches are, the weirder I think. Quite often I'll start having quite strange thoughts before a headache has even shown its face. The other night I was having this weird waking dream where one of my friends (or possibly me, it was pretty surreal) was arrested for touching the Queens breasts and when asked about it he (I) replied "All I did was touch some sluts tits" which I found pretty strange, even for me. I remember thinking, "wow, that's a bit harsh".
So what is acceptably funny these days? In my opinion, anything goes. Sure, there is such a thing as taste but if you're going to go and do bad taste jokes, you should at least be able to read the temperate of a room before diving right in. Personally, I try not to spend any time with anyone who I might easily offend. I worry that people are too sensitive these days, that they are trying to hard to to let themselves giggle at the inappropriate therefore ruining their own enjoyment. I know that I have a hack and slash attitude to the world, I would prefer to watch it burn than anything else. I remember telling a joke once and the person got all offended and asked "Whats so funny about that?" and I looked them right in the eye and said "Your reaction".
I am wondering how people view me, you know. I was on the phone to someone the other night and she said that I sounded normal, not my usual manic self. I never know how I come across to people. Some people find me insightful, some fine me insipid, is there a middle ground where I can stand and say, "No, this is actually it, this is me all the time, this I how I am" instead of wanting to change all my answers to fit who I'm talking to. Why do I try so hard to be liked? Is it because I have such an extreme case of self loathing that I need to see my own worth reflected in other peoples eyes?
Everybody is growing up around me, that same old lament by the eternally young. Everyone is having relationships or ending relationships or starting relationships, everyone but me it seems. I need to do some serious moving on, but at the moment I'm having a bit of a hard time doing it. I rarely meet people that I would consider spending any more than about 2 hours with, finding someone that you'd like to spend the rest of your life with, well, that must be something. I've met a few people that I'd entertain the idea of growing old with, but to be honest with you, they are few and far between, or, failing that, they are gay, taken, married, pregnant, overseas or just plain imaginary. I used to dream about meeting women, like, actual dreams where I'd meet this wonderful girl and we'd have these amazing affairs, the last dream I had like that I was following her through some tropical village, hollowed out coconut containing drink and straws in hand. I remember I lost her somewhere in the crowd and I experienced a heart ache, but not as strong as the heart ache that I experienced when I woke up and realised that the whole thing was a dream, and that what little time we had spent together, well, wasn't actually real. I never dreamed about her again and it makes me wonder whether or not I have actually lost anything or am I just fooling myself. It has always been my thing to lust after the unattainable, but surely its time to stop kidding myself.
I would so like to be in love right now. Loving is fine, I love many people, unconditionally, in many ways, but being IN love, that feeling that you are appreciated and loved back, well, wouldn't that just be something. That look in their eyes, the way they grin when they see you, the way you share things, you know, being in love, as opposed to, you know, just being. It seems to me at the moment that Melbourne has exhausted its supply of interesting women and that perhaps I need to look else where for my canoodling. I say this like I am some sort of modern day Lothario, but really, its because all the chicks I know know all the chicks I want to know so now its just feeling a little bit incestuous.
I think that first and foremost I need to forget that certain people actually exist and that there are indeed many more fish in the sea, but its like when you discover your favourite dish at a restaurant, you'll want to eat that shit all the time right? At the moment I am loving wonton soup and its all I've been ordering, do I really need to try new things to see if i like them? Can't I just have what i want to order? Was there only ever one of those dishes, if so, who the fuck runs a restaurant like that? Get me the manager. I know that its our uniqueness that makes us appeal to others, but my unique dish is no longer available and its all I want, it's all that I ever wanted. I want none of these deep fried Twinkies, none of these fly by night great legs but no arse wiping ability, none of these scared but infatuated 18yr olds, none of this. I want someone who will experiment with reading The New York Times with me, just to see if it really is the best newspaper in the world. I want someone that will look after me if I ask, that will get sick so I can make them soup, someone that I will have to console occasionally, and in return, they occasionally will console me. I want someone smarter than myself but who does not treat me as such, someone who appreciates the fact that I don't think on rails like every body else. Someone to spend a bloody Sunday with, you know, someone that I can take to a cafe or out to dinner. Is that too much to ask? I know, how about I write a blog about it and expose all my insecurities for everyone to see, how about I emasculate myself for the masses, in some misguided attempt to make my self appear more like able. Now that sounds like an idea.
Jesus Christ, writing a blog about how lonely you are is like being an AIDS patient and complaining that no one wants to share needles with you. Of course they don't, who would want to share your miserable, depressing, sick and lonely life? Maybe I should start attending 'conversion' parties, I hear they're a hoot.
So what is acceptably funny these days? In my opinion, anything goes. Sure, there is such a thing as taste but if you're going to go and do bad taste jokes, you should at least be able to read the temperate of a room before diving right in. Personally, I try not to spend any time with anyone who I might easily offend. I worry that people are too sensitive these days, that they are trying to hard to to let themselves giggle at the inappropriate therefore ruining their own enjoyment. I know that I have a hack and slash attitude to the world, I would prefer to watch it burn than anything else. I remember telling a joke once and the person got all offended and asked "Whats so funny about that?" and I looked them right in the eye and said "Your reaction".
I am wondering how people view me, you know. I was on the phone to someone the other night and she said that I sounded normal, not my usual manic self. I never know how I come across to people. Some people find me insightful, some fine me insipid, is there a middle ground where I can stand and say, "No, this is actually it, this is me all the time, this I how I am" instead of wanting to change all my answers to fit who I'm talking to. Why do I try so hard to be liked? Is it because I have such an extreme case of self loathing that I need to see my own worth reflected in other peoples eyes?
Everybody is growing up around me, that same old lament by the eternally young. Everyone is having relationships or ending relationships or starting relationships, everyone but me it seems. I need to do some serious moving on, but at the moment I'm having a bit of a hard time doing it. I rarely meet people that I would consider spending any more than about 2 hours with, finding someone that you'd like to spend the rest of your life with, well, that must be something. I've met a few people that I'd entertain the idea of growing old with, but to be honest with you, they are few and far between, or, failing that, they are gay, taken, married, pregnant, overseas or just plain imaginary. I used to dream about meeting women, like, actual dreams where I'd meet this wonderful girl and we'd have these amazing affairs, the last dream I had like that I was following her through some tropical village, hollowed out coconut containing drink and straws in hand. I remember I lost her somewhere in the crowd and I experienced a heart ache, but not as strong as the heart ache that I experienced when I woke up and realised that the whole thing was a dream, and that what little time we had spent together, well, wasn't actually real. I never dreamed about her again and it makes me wonder whether or not I have actually lost anything or am I just fooling myself. It has always been my thing to lust after the unattainable, but surely its time to stop kidding myself.
I would so like to be in love right now. Loving is fine, I love many people, unconditionally, in many ways, but being IN love, that feeling that you are appreciated and loved back, well, wouldn't that just be something. That look in their eyes, the way they grin when they see you, the way you share things, you know, being in love, as opposed to, you know, just being. It seems to me at the moment that Melbourne has exhausted its supply of interesting women and that perhaps I need to look else where for my canoodling. I say this like I am some sort of modern day Lothario, but really, its because all the chicks I know know all the chicks I want to know so now its just feeling a little bit incestuous.
I think that first and foremost I need to forget that certain people actually exist and that there are indeed many more fish in the sea, but its like when you discover your favourite dish at a restaurant, you'll want to eat that shit all the time right? At the moment I am loving wonton soup and its all I've been ordering, do I really need to try new things to see if i like them? Can't I just have what i want to order? Was there only ever one of those dishes, if so, who the fuck runs a restaurant like that? Get me the manager. I know that its our uniqueness that makes us appeal to others, but my unique dish is no longer available and its all I want, it's all that I ever wanted. I want none of these deep fried Twinkies, none of these fly by night great legs but no arse wiping ability, none of these scared but infatuated 18yr olds, none of this. I want someone who will experiment with reading The New York Times with me, just to see if it really is the best newspaper in the world. I want someone that will look after me if I ask, that will get sick so I can make them soup, someone that I will have to console occasionally, and in return, they occasionally will console me. I want someone smarter than myself but who does not treat me as such, someone who appreciates the fact that I don't think on rails like every body else. Someone to spend a bloody Sunday with, you know, someone that I can take to a cafe or out to dinner. Is that too much to ask? I know, how about I write a blog about it and expose all my insecurities for everyone to see, how about I emasculate myself for the masses, in some misguided attempt to make my self appear more like able. Now that sounds like an idea.
Jesus Christ, writing a blog about how lonely you are is like being an AIDS patient and complaining that no one wants to share needles with you. Of course they don't, who would want to share your miserable, depressing, sick and lonely life? Maybe I should start attending 'conversion' parties, I hear they're a hoot.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Walk.
So I'm in the middle of a headache cycle, sucks pretty hard, I'm on about 4 hrs sleep if I'm lucky and those are spent sitting up. My head is killing me. These clockwork headaches though, they certainly come like clockwork. 11pm on the dot then 3.30am. Its actually kind of amusing. In that 'this is so funny I wish I were dead' way. So anyway, last night at about 10:50 I felt one coming on and I had run out of Caffergot and Coke so there was nothing that I could do. I was going to sit on the couch like a little bitch but I was like "Fuck it, I'm going to go for a walk" so I put some clothes on and went.
It was cold and raining and I could only see out of one eye. Occasionally the wind would blow straight up my nose and my whole face would distort. I hunkered down in my jacket and as soon as my foot hit the pavement I was off, I don't think the pace of my step changed once. I was like a walking machine. Left foot right foot repeat. The wind was beating down and the rain was coming in at an angle. I felt like an Arctic adventurer out battling the wild. Like maybe I was not going to be back for some time. I was alone and cold and wet and it was beginning to feel amazing. I was going to just walk and see where it found me or until the headache let up, whichever came first. I decided that while I was out I may as well get some coke so I pointed myself in the direction of the servo and let my legs do the talking.
Its funny you know, I hardly remember the walk at all other than thinking "this fresh air sure is doing me good" and seeing the lights from the servo from a block away. I always worry that I'll try and throw myself off the bridge but i didn't even know that I was on it until I'd crossed it. By the end of it, i was soaked and breathing like a stream train. The icy rain on my head felt amazing and I knew that at the end of my walk there would be coke, ice cold coke, so things could only get better. It was weird, you know, I sort of entered this trance like state where all I could think was "coke, soon, coke, soon" and it was keeping in rhythm with my footsteps. Coke, soon, coke, soon. I could see the servo, the lights and then I could see the coke fridge and I swear I almost broke out in a run. The pain in my head was climaxing and i could feel my body oscillating from hot to cold and back again, I could only see out of one eye and that was so squinted I must have looked like I was walking with my eyes closed. The closer i go the more the light hurt my eyes and the nearer i got to deciding that i wouldn't actually be able to venture inside the servo anyway because of all the fluro. Grinning manically and shivering to the beat of some unheard jungle drums, I entered the servo...
And felt my headache lift as I pulled two bottles of coke from the fridge. I payed the man and left, i think i may have even whistled on the way home. It was pretty amazing, it actually felt like something gave way in my head. My walk was nothing if not climactic. It did not last for long, unfortunately, but if i have another headache tonight, I'm going for a jog. I mean, why the fuck not right?
So i don't know why i told that story, i think I just wanted to capture that feeling of me being so close to the edge but seeing an end in sight, you know? I swear I almost heard song birds when I strode through that door.
It was cold and raining and I could only see out of one eye. Occasionally the wind would blow straight up my nose and my whole face would distort. I hunkered down in my jacket and as soon as my foot hit the pavement I was off, I don't think the pace of my step changed once. I was like a walking machine. Left foot right foot repeat. The wind was beating down and the rain was coming in at an angle. I felt like an Arctic adventurer out battling the wild. Like maybe I was not going to be back for some time. I was alone and cold and wet and it was beginning to feel amazing. I was going to just walk and see where it found me or until the headache let up, whichever came first. I decided that while I was out I may as well get some coke so I pointed myself in the direction of the servo and let my legs do the talking.
Its funny you know, I hardly remember the walk at all other than thinking "this fresh air sure is doing me good" and seeing the lights from the servo from a block away. I always worry that I'll try and throw myself off the bridge but i didn't even know that I was on it until I'd crossed it. By the end of it, i was soaked and breathing like a stream train. The icy rain on my head felt amazing and I knew that at the end of my walk there would be coke, ice cold coke, so things could only get better. It was weird, you know, I sort of entered this trance like state where all I could think was "coke, soon, coke, soon" and it was keeping in rhythm with my footsteps. Coke, soon, coke, soon. I could see the servo, the lights and then I could see the coke fridge and I swear I almost broke out in a run. The pain in my head was climaxing and i could feel my body oscillating from hot to cold and back again, I could only see out of one eye and that was so squinted I must have looked like I was walking with my eyes closed. The closer i go the more the light hurt my eyes and the nearer i got to deciding that i wouldn't actually be able to venture inside the servo anyway because of all the fluro. Grinning manically and shivering to the beat of some unheard jungle drums, I entered the servo...
And felt my headache lift as I pulled two bottles of coke from the fridge. I payed the man and left, i think i may have even whistled on the way home. It was pretty amazing, it actually felt like something gave way in my head. My walk was nothing if not climactic. It did not last for long, unfortunately, but if i have another headache tonight, I'm going for a jog. I mean, why the fuck not right?
So i don't know why i told that story, i think I just wanted to capture that feeling of me being so close to the edge but seeing an end in sight, you know? I swear I almost heard song birds when I strode through that door.
Friday, June 5, 2009
When total self loathing isn't a strong enough term.
I am still at work because if I go home I just have to spend time with myself, and try as I might, I just can't grow to like that guy. Better to dust and tidy the racks than whatever else might come.
Some serious self hatred going on right now.
As I once wrote, is it the loneliness that's killing me, or the fact that I keep asking, is it the loneliness that's killing me?
I was smart once, and on the ball. Now I am dumb with unfocused anger. Better to truly embrace what you have become, or dream of what you might have been?
Some serious self hatred going on right now.
As I once wrote, is it the loneliness that's killing me, or the fact that I keep asking, is it the loneliness that's killing me?
I was smart once, and on the ball. Now I am dumb with unfocused anger. Better to truly embrace what you have become, or dream of what you might have been?
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Shitty daze.
So I'm mid cycle of headaches at the moment, back to sleeping upright with ice packs on my head. I saw a film last night (Wolverine, don't bother) and half way through it I was writhing in my chair and sweating like a bitch. After the film I could hardly string a sentence together and had to breath like I was in labour. Awesome, and it didn't make my friend uncomfortable at all.
I have a work experience girl at my work at the moment, its the girl from "porcelain cock". Yeah. I know, funny right? Not funny at all. Its killing me. I know I talk about sex a fair bit, I understand how gross I am, but she's taken me to a whole new level. I asked her why she drank Vanilla Coke, the worst of all cokes. Her answer? "Because it tastes like coke with cum in it and I love the taste of cum. I especially love the taste of my own cum." Here's me pretending that I'm not instantly aroused. Not very well. To be cool and slightly edgy I say "I love eating pussy, love the taste" but she sees my attempt and raises me a trump, "I love sucking cock, I could suck cock all day. If I met a guy who wouldn't eat my pussy but would let me suck him off all the time, perfect". No joke. Well, i exaggerated a little, but not much. She said off of those things, just not in the one sentence. Whatever, what the fuck does it matter. She also told me about all the porn she owns. Likes a series called "Cum on my tattoo". She has tattoos. Visual image that. In a defensive maneuver, I put up all my walls and basically ignored her.
The worst thing is that after spending a day with her I realised that I quite like the girl from down the road, lets call her Kicky, I don't know why. Maybe because of her super long legs. You never know. So this morning I dropped in to see Kicky on my way to work, we had coffee, then she came to see me, twice. And it was nice and a few of my friends independently told me that they reckon she's totally into me and that I should do something about it. So I did, well, I tried, but it looks like she has decided to start liking this 43yr old rock pig. Which is awesome. Fan-fucking-tastic. So I was a prick to Porcelain (who I'm over) (even the novelty of trying to fuck the work experience girl is wearing thin) and got rejected by Kicky. And tonight, after my pre-arranged dinner with Kicky, in an effort to stay pain free, I will have to sleep sitting up, and it probably won't work like it didn't last night.
My life is so awesome right now. I considered jumping off a bridge, but I realised it wasn't high enough.
I'll end on a joke, because that one obviously wasn't funny enough.
Q: Whats messier than eating a mandarin?
A: Eating Amanda out.
and another
Q: What has smoking a cigarette and eating a woman out got in common?
A: The flavour get stronger the closer you get to the butt.
*cue applause, point to audience and whisper "It's all you", bow, curtains, lights*.
I am a lonely performer and when I go back to my dressing room there won't be any flowers and I will have to take my make up off in the mirror, all the while avoiding my own eyes.
Fin.
I have a work experience girl at my work at the moment, its the girl from "porcelain cock". Yeah. I know, funny right? Not funny at all. Its killing me. I know I talk about sex a fair bit, I understand how gross I am, but she's taken me to a whole new level. I asked her why she drank Vanilla Coke, the worst of all cokes. Her answer? "Because it tastes like coke with cum in it and I love the taste of cum. I especially love the taste of my own cum." Here's me pretending that I'm not instantly aroused. Not very well. To be cool and slightly edgy I say "I love eating pussy, love the taste" but she sees my attempt and raises me a trump, "I love sucking cock, I could suck cock all day. If I met a guy who wouldn't eat my pussy but would let me suck him off all the time, perfect". No joke. Well, i exaggerated a little, but not much. She said off of those things, just not in the one sentence. Whatever, what the fuck does it matter. She also told me about all the porn she owns. Likes a series called "Cum on my tattoo". She has tattoos. Visual image that. In a defensive maneuver, I put up all my walls and basically ignored her.
The worst thing is that after spending a day with her I realised that I quite like the girl from down the road, lets call her Kicky, I don't know why. Maybe because of her super long legs. You never know. So this morning I dropped in to see Kicky on my way to work, we had coffee, then she came to see me, twice. And it was nice and a few of my friends independently told me that they reckon she's totally into me and that I should do something about it. So I did, well, I tried, but it looks like she has decided to start liking this 43yr old rock pig. Which is awesome. Fan-fucking-tastic. So I was a prick to Porcelain (who I'm over) (even the novelty of trying to fuck the work experience girl is wearing thin) and got rejected by Kicky. And tonight, after my pre-arranged dinner with Kicky, in an effort to stay pain free, I will have to sleep sitting up, and it probably won't work like it didn't last night.
My life is so awesome right now. I considered jumping off a bridge, but I realised it wasn't high enough.
I'll end on a joke, because that one obviously wasn't funny enough.
Q: Whats messier than eating a mandarin?
A: Eating Amanda out.
and another
Q: What has smoking a cigarette and eating a woman out got in common?
A: The flavour get stronger the closer you get to the butt.
*cue applause, point to audience and whisper "It's all you", bow, curtains, lights*.
I am a lonely performer and when I go back to my dressing room there won't be any flowers and I will have to take my make up off in the mirror, all the while avoiding my own eyes.
Fin.
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