Pass the Chloral Hydrate
Today I woke up missing my girlfriend.
Sure we talk on the phone pretty much every day, but it's not the same thing when you live 10 hours apart, and you have a kid together that you never get to see.
So today I woke up missing my girlfriend, and I usually don't miss anyone particularly much because I'm a busy guy with a lot of things on my mind. It's not so much compartmentalization, I just don't often have time to sit back and reflect on my feelings about much of anything. And since we both know the separation is unavoidable (as well as temporary) there's no point in getting all that bothered about it.
But today I'm missing my girlfriend, and my kid, and it's eating at me very badly.
Would you like to know what it feels like? It is like a big hole in my abdomen, a big donut hole you could throw a basketball through, and in that empty space there is a whooshing sound that sucks everything else out of my head and makes it hard to concentrate at work. The vacancy in my spirit this morning was almost unbearable, and for the first time in a while I had one of those existential glimpses of loneliness. It's a soul-crushing thing to face, that loneliness. Ol' Hank pretty much hit it when he sang "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry."
I have been carrying on an email exchange over the past few weeks with the idiot referenced in Fightin' Words. She posted a comment, since deleted so she wouldn't get any harassment (or free advertising for that matter) from my visitors, and has been trying to engage me in a discussion of her political stance. This morning I finally told her to stop emailing me, since I'm already well-aware of the conservative perspective on society and politics (which seems to me "Do and say anything to maintain power").
Her response closed with "You should try smiling more -- the tone of the writing on your page seems flat and sad". Considering that the most recent story was about my friend who killed himself and my failure to recollect his name, yeah I guess you might get a little depressed.
But I don't think the tone of my writing is flat at all. I quite like my writing, thank you very much, and considering I graduated cum fucking laude with a degree in English, I think I'll continue to write in the style I write (and toots, if you're reading this, it's a stretch to offer me writing advice when you don't know how to properly use the word "misnomer" and use "drug" as the past tense of "drag": so with all due respect, fuck you).
I cannot argue that today's tone is not sad, and I will not put on my happy face.
Pass the Hank, the George Jones, and the Louvin Brothers please. And make it a double...
Sure we talk on the phone pretty much every day, but it's not the same thing when you live 10 hours apart, and you have a kid together that you never get to see.
So today I woke up missing my girlfriend, and I usually don't miss anyone particularly much because I'm a busy guy with a lot of things on my mind. It's not so much compartmentalization, I just don't often have time to sit back and reflect on my feelings about much of anything. And since we both know the separation is unavoidable (as well as temporary) there's no point in getting all that bothered about it.
But today I'm missing my girlfriend, and my kid, and it's eating at me very badly.
Would you like to know what it feels like? It is like a big hole in my abdomen, a big donut hole you could throw a basketball through, and in that empty space there is a whooshing sound that sucks everything else out of my head and makes it hard to concentrate at work. The vacancy in my spirit this morning was almost unbearable, and for the first time in a while I had one of those existential glimpses of loneliness. It's a soul-crushing thing to face, that loneliness. Ol' Hank pretty much hit it when he sang "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry."
I have been carrying on an email exchange over the past few weeks with the idiot referenced in Fightin' Words. She posted a comment, since deleted so she wouldn't get any harassment (or free advertising for that matter) from my visitors, and has been trying to engage me in a discussion of her political stance. This morning I finally told her to stop emailing me, since I'm already well-aware of the conservative perspective on society and politics (which seems to me "Do and say anything to maintain power").
Her response closed with "You should try smiling more -- the tone of the writing on your page seems flat and sad". Considering that the most recent story was about my friend who killed himself and my failure to recollect his name, yeah I guess you might get a little depressed.
But I don't think the tone of my writing is flat at all. I quite like my writing, thank you very much, and considering I graduated cum fucking laude with a degree in English, I think I'll continue to write in the style I write (and toots, if you're reading this, it's a stretch to offer me writing advice when you don't know how to properly use the word "misnomer" and use "drug" as the past tense of "drag": so with all due respect, fuck you).
I cannot argue that today's tone is not sad, and I will not put on my happy face.
Pass the Hank, the George Jones, and the Louvin Brothers please. And make it a double...
1 Comments:
aaawwwwwwwww....
Post a Comment
<< Home