28 July, 2013

Sunday Afternoon Maudlin and the Elite Tribe Who Will Speak Kindly Of Me When I'm Gone

She said she was the penultimate, and then explained that she meant she would be the last before I settled down.

I told her that I was not sure I'd ever settle down and that I was glad to have her as a member of my "elite tribe", and that I hope they would be kind to me in their remembrances should they out last me.

She called me goth-y. I quoted Elliott Smith. My mind wandered, thinking about other women. A world without jealousy expanded in my mind, but it always turned sour. Conflicts arose and slowly poisoned Utopia. In my dreams, as in my real life, I found myself managing others' emotions and juggling their expectations.

This is why we can't have nice things,...

I wonder if my Dad steered me toward "A Stranger in a Strange Land" in my precocious, fumbling youth to convey something about my congenital wandering eye and love of lust. He was transitioning to the arms of another. Perhaps he wanted me to grok this.

I have yet to grok it fully, relative to his life or mine. His first marriage is still a bone of contention, but I do not carry ill will to any of the members of my tribe, even the ones who deserve it (you know who you are... especially you, KW).

I try to spend less time resenting. I must not think bad thoughts.


I shall soon discuss elsewhere how I lost a contest where I put in hundreds of dollars and hours of labor, as did my also-rans, losing to someone who rolled up cheese in sausage and wrapped it all in bacon for pennies to my dollar, seconds to my hour.

I guess you still can't beat cheese stuffed, bacon wrapped.

It was a tony affair, a proper affair with ladies and gentlemen and dick jokes and boozy ice cream drinks and lots of whiskey, public displays of affection and even more public displays of gross gluttony.

There was bacon deep fried in bacon fat, as it should be.

There were ex lovers and also-rans.

There was a pig face mask. Fuck it up, pig face. Fuck it up.

It marked the halfway mark in a year of kept promises: be with your friends, don't hold grudges, don't harbor regrets, take care of yourself but have fun. Don't presume, don't take for granted.

In the last few years I've lost too many.

I forgot what else I was going to say. Now it's time to soak in a hot bath and to go be with friends, and maybe find a way to say "I love you" without it being too sentimental by half.


You cast your shadow everywhere like the man in the moon.

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