how about people you meet at the bar, the baa-aar aaaarrrr
you had to be there. obviously your werent, for i was alone. alone but for the people i was listening to next to me at the bar, alone but for the girl who waitresses there now, and alone but for the girl i knew from a coffeeshop long deceased, who told me she got arrested for possession. shitty!
oh, what a grand few minutes it was. since my drivers side window is busted out, i could only stay for a few minutes. so i ordered a lickin toad (which i now know consists of red bull, vodka, and some blue liquer, probably curacao), a jager bomb, and a vodka tonic. i killed all 3 in ten minutes so i could get back outside before someone jacked the face off my cd player. its amazing how no matter what bar i go to, there are always some people i know. if not that, then there is always the person who wants to get to know me, which i dont care for at all, unless you fit a specific description with details too numerous to list here. the only reason i wound up at this particular bar is because my usual dive closed up shop. a while back the owners got busted because they were running all kinds of colors out that bitch, white and brown being the most prominent. once they got busted, the clientele moved on, leaving only a few die hard regulars to keep it afloat. well, that didnt last too long. when i drove by tonite, it was dark as a poonem's puh. i think they have done gone and closed up shop for good. well, without the extra drug income to launder, i guess they just didnt have enough to keep it open. it sucks because there is no other dive bar near my house, and the closest bar beyond that is not a dive at all, in fact its quite nice, and the drinks are a bit more expensive.
so i saw the chick i used to hang with, who the last two times i saw her was with some insanely jealous boyfriend (a different one each time) so we couldnt talk. i keep meaning to ask her if her taste in insanely jealous men has died away. then i saw the girl from the coffee shop, who i would never in a hundred years (after that, probably) have thought would get caught up in the drug scene and get nabbed for possession. but, such is life in a small town. the girl next door is also the girl with the oppressive coke habit.
now we begin another week, monday, the day to end all days, draws to a close and finds me trying to catch a buzz as usual.
what is that infernal beeping sound?
and with no one to talk to, i must turn to thee, ole blog. ye wonder of the internets. giving me a space to write, when i neher considered myself a writer, giving me a chance to publish my "work", so that other people might see. glory of chite, it is. you know, budweiser is so god damn watery. whereas i may drink six grolsch, heini or pilsner urquell on a weeknight, i swear i need like ten of these things to feel sufficiently buzzworthy. and as far as domestic beer, it only gets worse from there.
i'm leaving here soon, and i have only told the most cursory of people. i told the lady at the credit union when i inquired as to how much of a bitch it is to close an account, i told the waitress at the bar, i think i have told like one other person. but i havent said shit to the people it might mean something to. my family, mostly. but really, what the hell does it matter. i neher see them anyway, what with our schedules being completely opposite. i keep envisioning the day when my mom calls me to tell me her mother has passed, and i will have to pretend to care, although i dont know how to do so, and i will have to try and act like my mother and i are close, although we are the furthest thing from it. it is a sad thing when your family knows you about as well as any other acquaintance, and you have lived together for years.
but its something you just have to face. when you arent on this earth to tend to a family, it doesnt seem important. i've neher been close, and i dont intend to try. a few generations from now our physical remains may be dug up by some archaeologist, if they deny me my wish to be cremated. then we are nothing more than bones, and the conjecture surrounding us and the items in our graves. when this is over we will not want for one another. i know that i am here for several reasons, and raising/taking care of family is not on the list. i have always been nomadic, solitary and lately those feelings just get stronger and stronger. we all come from somewhere, from someone, but does anyone really care from where, or from who? does it matter, beyond the grave? to some people, i'm sure it does. heritage and lineage, and the empathy of family bring strong feelings for some. but i feel like a spiritual nomad, my soul is more compared to the body i inhabit and the people who spawned me. as much as i care for them, i can not place too much stock in the idea of a family and it's established connections. i do not intend to carry on our genes, there is no way i will eher settle down, there is nothing for me in the zombified comfort of a permanent relationship with its trappings of guaranteed sex and emotional comfort, along with a sense of economic and emotional stability. if i dont die early, i will die as that wierd old man with no family or friends, one who came from somewhere, but who knows where that is. i will pass on leaving behind me a body of work that will be noticed by few, but cherished forever in my soul, knowing that i created something more than another generation, another family to mourn one's loss, one more child to grow, live, and learn.
is there really anything else? some would have you think that there isnt.
what the hell does it matter anyway.
go read my links, bitch!
i still cant figure out what the hell is beeping...