I guess I could've called this blog "Memoires of a fledglingly alcoholic," but I wasn't feeling particularly clever at the time, and besides, it creates this ambiguity about what's fledgling, myself or my alcoholism. Well, It's the latter if you must know.
Moving on.
To preface this first real blog of any substance, The purpose of the existence of this blog is to house a repository for all of my drunken ego-vomit that will be hidden from my real-life friends, all (both) of which will have not clue-one about this thing, as too many (and by too many, I mean 2) of those nosy little fuckers have taken to reading the things I write on my myspace blog at 3 or 4am whilst 4 or 5 sheets to the wind, and defenseless against the whims of inebriation. So instead, what would normally be written there will be written here... at 3 or 4am whilst 4 or 5 sheets to the wind. Should make for at least a good chuckle everyonceandawhile. However, if you would be interested in all of your perverse curiosity, my myspace blog is located at http://blog.myspace.com/lamentiment, along with some very comely pictures of myself and my significant other, to whom I will refer on occasion *glghmgmhmgmghmmh*, Oh, sorry, I don't know why I had to clear my throat suggestively just then.
Be forewarned, I'm not gonna be funny for you, I'm just not that type of guy.
I'm going to get exceedingly drunk now, starting at 3:30 in the morning, I'm already exhausted-sitting on your ass all day will do that-and I still haven't finished my column.
See, I get to do that here, I get to seperate parenthetical phrases with hyphens, which is something strictly forbade in my other spheres of writing. I also get to write in the first person, see, I I I I I I I I I I I I I I. It's MY blog, IdowhatIwant,whatever.
Oh, I also write a music column for my school paper, but this will undoubtedly prove a short-lived endeavor considering the tendency of alcoholism to devastate personal aspirations.
Oh, these blogs will also serve as mile-markers of my cerebral degradation.
Moving on.
So, I have this girlfriend. We're similar to the alpha couple, which is an imaginary couple dreamed up by one-derful John Darnielle, d/b/a The Mountain Goats. Here, why don't I recite to you some lyrics elucidating the similarities between them and my real-life relationship: "The warning signs have all been bright and garrish, far too great in number to ignore. Our love has never had a leg to stand on, from the aspirins to the cross-tops to the elavils; but I will walk down to the end with you if you will walk all the way down with me." Or a personal favourite of mine, "Well, it's gone on like this for three years, I guess, and we're drunk all of the time, and our lives are a mess, and the deathless love we swore to protect with our bodies is stumbling across its bleak ending, but none of the rage in our eyes seems to finish it off were it lies. I got sugar in the fuel lines, both of us do."
Yeah, that last little italicized bit is the most referential. This stuff comes highly recommended. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, where you honestly love someone with at least most of your heart, but it's not going to work out, and both of you somehow know it, but you feel that you owe it to the other person to wait it out like a goddamn hurricane, until you both absolutely cannot stand one another, then the album Tallahassee is a sure bet.
See, I can do this, I can be a music critic. I bet I just made The Mountain Goats like a whole gaggle of new fans.
Oh, also, to stroke my ego a little further, all of my friends think I'm really smrt.
Wow, 4:20am, I must be making some good word/minute action here.
"Why is the rum always gone" quoth myself and some other person of some certain amount of notariety.
See, the thing is, I'm not actually really clever, at least not in the Winston Churchill sort of way, I just know how to write really well. That's all it takes.
Who cares? All I know is that I need to freshen my drink.
I can't believe I actually fooled myself into thinking that anyone would want to read this. Oh well.
F.Y.I. cheap rum mixed with club soda and black cherry syrup from the middle eastern grocery isn't near the top of my list of good drinks, and it's a very short list.
That didn't make any sense, which is something I'm going to be doing a lot more of in the weeks to come. See what I mean.
Okay, so I mean it this time, I absolutely used to be a good person, I swear. I wasn't always like this.
So, I've been reading up (as of the past 5 minutes) on the "Human Givens" school of psychological thought. Now usually I kind of tend to think that psychology by and large is bullshit, you can't quantify the whole of the human experience, and therefore you can't quantify it even in part, but this sorta makes sense. According to this theory, there are undeniable, "inalienable" if you will, human emotional needs that must be met, and if they are not, then a human cannot grow up to be the president of the united states. These needs are as follows (with x's by the ones in which I am either deficient or totally lacking [from wikipedia]):
-Security — safe territory and an environment which allows us to develop fully
X-Attention (to give and receive it) — a form of nutrition
X-Sense of autonomy and control — having volition to make responsible choices
X-Being emotionally connected to others
X-Feeling part of a wider community
X-Friendship, intimacy — to know that at least one other person accepts us totally for who we are, “warts 'n' all”
-Privacy — opportunity to reflect and consolidate experience
X-Sense of status within social groupings
X-Sense of competence and achievement
X-Meaning and purpose — which come from being stretched in what we do and think.
Now, from what I've gathered, the only things I have are security and privacy. And without the rest, what does security and privacy translate to? Yeah, loneliness. Now to be fair, I know that my partner accepts me totally for who I am (minus the cromwell allusion, 'cause he was a total fucking asshole fuckhead). I Know this, I do, and I bless her heart for it, but I don't have, and never have had, a friendship with her, and we are rarely intimate anymore. And I know what you're thinking, well what about your other friend(s), well, frankly, they don't exist. So, here I am, secure and alone in my castle, with my booze and myself, pouring my heart out to no one.
5:21am.
No more drinks.
Aug 19, 2006
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