2004-03-22 - 6:51 p.m.
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IT'S OFFICIAL WHEN ALL YOU DIE NONE O YO NIGGAS IS REALLY GON MISS YOU!
SO I'm a Polly. I'm a Pretty Polly.
I'm not personally all of the band Pretty Polly but I'm a part of it now.
I think so at least.
AS far as I can tell, I've been working with Rob, the singer and guitarist, and I've been told I'm the bassist. We haven't played as a whole band yet and I don't know if that counts as actually being the bassist for that band. If it does, then fantastic. If not, then fantastic.
I really don't care.
I'm also still the bassist for Sometimelater although that band hasn't gotten together in 2 weeks because Steve is in Hawaii and regardless, we still don't have a singer.
So it goes.
It was my cousin's birthday this weekend and it was ridiculously fun. She had it at Happy Endings, a bar by Delancy St. in NYC that used to be a massage parlor. A dirty massage parlor, hence the name Happy Endings.
Fantastic. I made sure that I didn't touch anything in the tiled ex-showers, in fear of being haunted by the ghost of sperm long since jizzed. I'm not a germaphobic but the idea of being in a room that must have been painted in jizz in all the years it had been used just wasn't appealing to me. And wash it all you want but I don't care, even wearing a suit made out of bleach.
Which would be impossible anyway.
I don't know. Lately I've been very turned off by this whole "living" thing. I'm really really bored with it to tell you the truth. I've heard the song Jack and Diane by Melloncamp for years and that one line "Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone" just never made sense to me until now. I still cringe to think that I can define my mood by a Melloncamp lyric, seeing as I detest his music for the most part (and anyone who thinks they can spruce up their name by putting the word Cougar in there is wasting their time). I don't know. I have no true ambitions right now. I have wants and needs and yearnings, but none that are really life-changingly major. I have infatuations and desires and cravings but nothing that seems all that urgent or drastic. I want to move on to a new job or a new town or who knows what else I need renewed. A new life maybe? A new outlook on the life I have perhaps? Maybe a brush with death would put things in perspective, but then again, I dont want to have to go almost kill myself just so I can shake up things. People buy new clothes to do that.
Shake things up I mean.
I don't know. I'm just too apathetic I guess. There's nothing challenging me really. There's no motivation and if there is something that is pulling at me, I don't feel any urge to pursue it because...well I have no idea why. I'm not even content. It's not like I'm even happy. I really am not happy with almost any aspect of my life and wish I could change almost every part of it. I sleep alone, in my parent's house, to get up to a job I don't even find challenging or fulfilling or even interesting, so that I can make it to the weekends and spend time with people who make life interesting only to find myself two alarm clock buzzings later thrown back into the dull pace of work again. I come home from work, watch TV, play video games, read books, write poetry and short stories, play more video games, talk online - all things that seem to me to be done just to eat up time and get me to the next alarm clock so taht I can go to work and come home to waste time again, all over again.
The thrill of living indeed.
I'm not worried about the war going on anymore or even the presidential candidates clawing at each other in feeble attempts at showing us that neither one is suitable enough to run this joyride of a country. I'm not concerned with gay marriages, I'm not concerned with media censorship and I'm not concerned with almost any celebrity mishap or shameing anymore, like I've been told I should be by media. In fact, I find more and more everyday that I have less and less in common with almost every facet of society as I know it. I'm not interested in being physically fit to the point that you could count the muscles in my stomach through my skin. I'm not interested in hair loss or erectile dysfunction or botox injections or anything like that. I barely shave anymore. As a matter of fact, I absolutely hate the way I look because it's not Ken doll perfect or teen magazine hot or prime time handsome. And at the same time, I don't give a shit really because those things don't interest me anyway.
I'm becoming overly apathetic, even more so than I usually am.
I don't have much in terms of threats to my self of my lifestyle. I don't receive mockery or contempt for the way I live and I don't find my self being persecuted by anyone. I'm not being hounded and prodded and jabbed at. I'm at all times beneath the radar of everyone's worry or concern and even attention. It's like being behind everyone at all times and watching them all act as they please and I'm fine with it. Each day, I hear about new laws put in place that I don't remember anyone being asked about. Government agencies are taking steps to censor and impound us mentally and spiritually and I don't even mind anymore. I'm used to it.
But while we're on the topic of not being asked about something, I might also add that if no one is going to the trouble of asking my permission or anyone else's for that matter, I might as well return the favor and simply ignore it. I'll ignore the censorship and as soon as they come parading around with their bleep flags, I'll ignore it. I'll say the word "fuck" and "shit" and "Cocksucking devil whores" here. I can. I'm allowed to. I'll "steal" mp3s off of the internet because although the RIAA would love for me to stop so that they can make some money off my ass, I'll just simply refuse to listen. Send me all the cease and desist orders you want. Send me so many that I can build my own house out of them or a boat out of them, so that I may be sheltered or at least get away from you. I don't care anymore. Tell me that the devil is in the television and that boobs on TV are wrong and whatnot. That's fine. I'll just go write my own short stories and novels where the only thing that happens is breasts popping out. Traffic cops who randomly take out their breasts will let people randomly take out their breasts as they cross the street to go to the bank, take out their breast and withdraw money from a teller randomly taking her breast out.
In fact, I'll even post it here and see what you think of it.
But regardless, even my actions will have no consequence and in the end, after everyone's bids at telling me why I'm a failure in the grand scheme of popular and cool, I'll just laugh it all off with a sneer of apathy, knowing full well that I could be dead tomorrow and none of the measures taken to rob me of identity and personality would have amounted to anything. And it will be for naught. You're all tooling around and fluffing the world around you so that it is nice and comfortable and for what? So that you can die happy? When you die, what happiness will follow with you? What great triumph will join you? EVen if there is heaven, this couldn't be what God had planned. You made TV put splotchy messes over naked parts, bleeped curses off of the radio, prevented gay people from marrying each other, slung mud at each other so that you could scramble to the top of a government running a country falling apart at the seams, bit and clawwed your way to the top of a corporate ladder so that you could just sit there and get fatter, all while trying to minimize yourself to Barbie proportions so that the mess that is inside of you is hidden by the mess that is outside of you, shaking and demented from growth hormones, erection medicine, hair growth formulas and other chemical dependencies. Our life goals are to be one big walking mess so that we can bring another person into this world to grow up to be a walking mess. Congradulations, we've managed to make life so unworthwhile on this planet that the things that seem to make the most sense to us still don't. Enjoy your latte, Mini car, low carb, low fat, multi-grain, mulit-tasking, net ready, one hour photo dream world that has no basis on any form of happiness whatsoever. Keep charging on the currents of self gratification and economic blasphemy without me. You've been doing so well so far and I have watched it all happen as I sat there blowing day after day out of my ass, dribbling along at the pace of tired monotony until the next big landmark floats by and I realize that I'm 22 years older than sperm and still haven't seen, done or knwon shit about shit and know that even if I have done seen or known anything, it would still be a whole bunch of nothing.
VIVA LA NADA
BMC
What did you just say? - What's he gonna say next?
