So, I am on one of those searches for an elusive feeling I am not even sure I know what I am looking for. Just something different. I shaved my beard off yesterday and had to deal with all the responses today. I think most people thought I looked weird. One girl in particular who is rather honest said I shouldn't have shaved my beard and that I don't look good shaven and that now I look chubby and I didn't before. She said I should have just trimmed it. Along with some other stress and frustrations I was looking to escape. One of my tried and true is pornography obviously. When I really need it I tend to go for the JOI variety. That left me a little calmer but then I was fucking hungry. Eat the pain away. We have chips and pico de gallo! I obviously ate it all. All of it. It is all digesting in my stomach as we speak. Then I see we have a mango! Devoured. So fucking good. Then I thought. "Hey, I always seem to turn it around a little bit writing a blog on LP." I guess it is sort of a coping device for reality. I try to get down to the depths of reality while at the same time I am escaping it in a way. I could be looking at other avenues of employment. I get ghosted like 85% of the time on tinder when I mention I am a prep cook (at a chain restaurant). Yet, I go back there every day doing the same damn shit and I come home and do more or less the same damn shit. But then I find something like this:
Then I am off on this rush with Tove Lo. Listening to music, watching interviews. I love her songwriting and she gets what it is like to be an addict or just someone that loves the rushes and adventures of life. I feel like I am nearing the end of that rush like the lights have gone out and it is just me alone in my room with my computer a little lost and confused.
A little lost and confused with my obsessions and struggles. The buddhist teacher would say to meditate but I have never been one to just sit and meditate outside of a daily practice. Now is a great time to start isn't it? And I say fuck that. I want to do ecstasy with Tove Lo at Coachella, smoke some dank weed, and get lost in each other and our pleasures. Craving, suffering, I got it. Yup. I can just let the cravings pass. The anguish pass. Almost to the point of being free of craving and anguish. Sometimes I rather indulge in all of it. Get lost in memories and fantasies. Eat an entire pint of ice cream. Sneak into the bathroom with my phone and my pornhub. Junk food. Junk values. How do we rise above?
In other Swedish pop star news: Avicii killed himself. Cut himself with broken glass and bled to death. Honestly, I have been there before. I really related to Avicii and his story. I remember LOVING his song "Alcoholic" even before I realized I was actually an alcoholic. Man, I was on Avicii early before he even had any of his own songs. Back when he was MURDERING it in clubs around the world. He put together some of the best hours I have ever experienced. I have been where Avicii was. I just decided to burn myself instead of cut myself. It hits close to home because that is probably how I will end up going if I ever started drinking again. Especially now that is in my mind it is almost a fucked up romanticized view of it. What a fitting death for alcoholic me. Slitting my wrist with a broken Jack Daniels bottle. It also shows one can seemingly have it all and be so discontented with life that they end it. It actually makes me really sad. Avicii is one of those stars that I felt a kinship and if he can't get out of this thing without killing himself what hope do I have? I just keep on trucking. That's all I can do.
I had an old ipod with just a crazy selection of Avicii's best sets caught on tape. Unfortunately, it died and all of those will be gone for forever (as far as I know). I have this in my mind that there was one from like 2010 at Glow in Washington D.C. that was off the charts but everything he was doing at that time was crazy.
I dug this up:
I think there was definitely some better stuff from small'ish clubs around this time but if you like EDM this is killing it. Makes me forget I am just a meaningless organism living in a meaningless world for a while at least. But, how do I make this existence BETTER!?!?!? If I shave I can better go down on women. If I buy the chelsea boots and the leather jacket and the watch and we go to the cool lounge and what do I order? Oh, god what do I order? I can't order a san pelligrino because I got ghosted when I suggested that with a random tinder chick. Same with cappucino. But, fuck it, maybe I just want to lounge in a lounge and drink some sparkling water. Fuck it. Maybe I don't even want to go to a lounge. I don't want to dress up in the lounge outfit. Black armani shirt with black jeans and black chelsea boots. See, I already have chelsea boots just not tan ones that I want. I also want charcoal and maybe something a bit out there like magenta in suede. Magenta suede chelsea boots would surely get me laid no? Oh, there is more to it than that. Like not being a prep cook at a chain restaurant and living with my parents at 34.
The actors in Hollywood tell me to eat chicken, rice, and steamed vegetables all day and train a few hours a day and I can look like a superhero. ORLY? That's it? You don't say.
It is kind of crazy that this guy who seemingly had it all and also was quite useful ended it so abruptly. Listening to this mix led to so many great workouts and more fun car rides. On another tangent it's like I am detached and don't care at all. Like a fly that hit the windshield. I want to know more about the circumstances. Was he drinking? Was he trying to get sober at any point? Were there other drugs involved?
Oh well. I don't know if I have any answers. I am just writing to escape like I said earlier. Cope with life. Sometimes it is so easy, happy, and carefree and sometimes it just seems like a chore, no fire, the candle is at a low flicker, and full of anxiety and confusion and fogginess. All I can do is my best or good enough. Keep stepping forward. I am here, now. So, what does that mean? I need to fuck around with some paint. Maybe start sketching tattoos. Now, there's an idea. Reality is too harsh for me sometimes. That is just a fact. I need ways to escape that aren't too damaging and don't put me in a constant suffering/craving/anesthetize loop.
Don't want to knock on the music that people enjoy but the musicianship in this kind of live music makes me lol. Turn a few knobs here and there and I don't even notice what he's doing it for. Have a few sips of water, music keeps playing, awesome! It's almost as if it takes the same amount of effort to listen to it as to play it live. I also like how he "puts emotion" into fully turning down the volume knob at the end.
fuck I should just sell some of my Pokemon cards, if no one stakes that is what I will have to do - lostaccount
I came home from work today in a bleh mood. Had a really mediocre hand job. Really a throwaway orgasm. I surprisingly learned a bit more about what I like. But, anyways, it was really just part of the combo of having a decent wank and a nap. I always loved that combo. Passed out for a bit. Woke up kind of groggy and depressed. Went for a walk on the beach all full of discontentedness, worry, memories, fantasies. Man, I was all over the place. By the end of the walk I was singing a bit of a different tune. A somewhat subdued tune but there was some peace there. Gotta turn on the Marley for the drive home. Had a good meal and some dark chocolate and things don't seem so bad. Another fucking day man. Another fucking day.
So, I clip my fingernails. But, not my toenails. Why does it seem like my fingernails grow faster than my toenails? But, anyways, enough stealing from Samuel Beckett.
I need to get out of my self-centeredness. I am not sure I am doing that by writing a self-obsessed blog. Maybe we can turn it to what we always seem to get to. We need imagination and we need compassion. Meditation. Exercise. Connection. Laughter.
The drugs just get me to suffering and craving. A lot of stuff does. I still chase the highs. If only I could stay high. Marijuana is a cheap vacation. MDMA, shrooms, a lot of that stuff is good stuff. It isn't the answer though. It isn't the solution. So, what is the solution? It's not god. It may or may not be a 12-step program. I would argue a sponsor and a 12-step program is helpful but not a solution. Maybe there is no solution. I am doomed. Well, of course I am doomed. We all are. Sometimes I feel condemned to a shitty life. As the fates would have it. Then we can get into expectations, acceptance, gratitude, and all that crap. I just said sometimes I feel condemned to a shitty life. It's all relative. But, I feel anguish, I feel the mundanity. The l'enfant sauvage is strong within me. Forces wishing for me to be ductile and docile. Manipulating and controlling. No. There has to be a way out. Reality sucks. Give me a rush. Like the vagina gush. Pleasure is sweeter with pain. When the fire fades what must we do? Live it out. Why must I live my life like this? With these extremes? How can I expect to settle with bleh when I have experienced bliss? I want motherfucking nirvana and I want it fucking now! I think I want to go manic. I'll stop taking my medications and stop sleeping. That way I can escape reality. That way I will actually write poetry and songs and sketch tattoos and nature and paint. I just want beauty. I seek beauty. Beauty soothes. Awe, wonder, symmetry, uniqueness. Magenta suede chelsea boots. I wish I could design and create my own. I wish I could create a cocktail dress for M. She would look great in the dress. The dress would be somewhat impressive but it would be nothing with out M. I couldn't pull it off. Well, I could pull it off her. Why couldn't I just warm her up properly? I went about it all wrong. This is what I am talking about when I am talking about memories and fantasies.
I need some pink skies. I need a porch overlooking the ocean and some empty notebooks.
What's the difference? I am getting old man. Terminal for a long ass time man. Certainty in death, uncertainty in the timing. I am supposed to be living like it. I think I am living like it. What's the difference if I am skydiving or alone in my room filling up notebooks? Fucking some bad bitch in a hotel suite or sitting on my porch meditating? Walking on a beach in Bali or walking on a beach here?
I want to stay high all the time but that is not how it works. Learn to love the comedown and the hangover. Even if it is a struggle sometimes to take a shower and brush my teeth before I go to sleep. It's all a struggle until it's not. Ride the wave. Enjoy the blue skies. Enjoy the pink skies. Don't be discouraged by the grey skies.
It's all about perspective. There are times when I am worried about every last thing, I think everyone hates me, and every little thing is a major problem. How to avoid that? I don't know. Some deep breaths. Just keep taking steps.
I really would like to have some molly and bomb ass weed and spend a night with Tove Lo though. Might as well just end there. See how my life is just cycles and loops and suffering and craving? It really never ends.
I wish one of your guys had children if I could kick them in the fucking head or stomp on their testicles so you can feel my pain because thats the pain I have waking up everyday -- Mike Tyson
United States. May 04 2018 04:10. Posts 8534
