I can only write when i'm high

They say that heroin addicts spend their whole lives chasing the dragon- trying to reach that first, pure, unattainable high again. I realized last night that I have spent most of my last few years chasing the dragon in every area of my life. The happy years of my childhood whose memory I associated with my house, I chased – looking to preserve memories long dead in the fights ringing in my household. If I could save the house, I could save us all and bring us back to that time. After the first time I kissed or touched or fucked any of the people I have, I chased. I tried over and over again to get as high as I got on that first night with anyone who would oblige me long enough. If they did not, I chased them, trying for even a chance at obtaining that high, and getting back what I once had but had lost somewhere along the way. I chase the night I lost my virginity in every sexual experience I have, hoping to top my preconceptions of perfect, though I would always be willing to settle for a match. I chase the high I got from my first few packs of cigarettes every time I light up a Marlboro Red, the calm and relief I get now only being a passing substitute until the day they miraculously get me high again. In chasing the beautiful, childlike high I got from ecstasy, I used hordes of people I considered my friends, running over them for an experience that ended up being horribly aging – I suppose I got what I deserved. Even as I write this, I look forward to the possibilities of new highs and new firsts that I will chase in the future, because these memories are still sweet. My memories remind me that good still happens, though it is fleeting, and I chase these memories to keep them alive.

5 things I learned from Ben Sweet

After having spent so much time around this nutty fellow named Ben Sweet this summer and this fall, I have found that I learned a lot from him.

1. If you make a drink out of Everclear, vodka, PBR, 1.29 Grape Drank from Wal-mart, and lemon-lime off-brand soda, it will taste shockingly good, but will probably make you ill shortly thereafter.

2. Shell and BP have the best gas, most other brands are total shit. This is probably the most important advice i've learned, and one that I will carry with me throughout my life.

3. Primordial dwarves are not babies, or aliens, or alien babies.

4. Psychedelic drugs are bad. Acid is dangerous. Shrooms are not any safer, and I will never do any of these [again].

5. Djarum Blacks are awful and make my throat burn.


All of these things I did not know before this summer, and all of them I know because of Ben Sweet. So thanks, Ben.

Advice

SO, Kyle told me a couple days ago during our AWC [after work clove, or this time camel] that if i'm trying to get laid as much as possible, I need to be a lot, lot more slutty. I took his advice to heart last night and decided to try it out on an easy target.
I texted an acquaintance of mine who is usually down with very little manipulation but has been, as of late, difficult and annoying. At first I tried my usual trick of "Hey what are you doin" to little avail. I hate it when I have to work for a meaningless lay. It was time to bring out the inner slut.
I asked him if he worked tomorrow during the day, and when I recieved a positive response, said "We should hang out then". I got back a horrorsome response:

"Ok, what do you want to do?"

Shit. Shit. This was supposed to be easy. I pondered the question for a while and was about to just leave it unresponded and give up, when a half-asleep Bianca tells me to say "I don't know, what do you want to do?"
GENIUS!

I get back an even more difficult response of "Up to you". God damn it. It was time to be a real slut- desperate times call for desperate measures.
"I think you know"

Bam, there, I said it. All of my boldness went unrewarded with the response "No, what". I hate him. I went to bed.


I woke up this morning to a text asking me what I was doing. I responded, thinking that my efforts have finally paid off, and I get nothing in return. It is now 12 hours since the first text, and I am still unlaid.

What I don't understand is why this is so difficult. The last time I was "in a relationship", it was impossible to NOT cheat because I had so many young men on my tail. Now I can't even get laid by someone exponentially sluttier than I am. I'm pretty sure that if there is a God, which theres not, I am being punished for being such an asshole this summer.

I guess there's always work tonight.

First

This blog is for me to chronicle my own personal strangeness and the craziness that surrounds me.