ericboy's Diaryland Diary

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\"Not to pull your halo down / around your neck and drag you from your cloud\" - A Perfect Circle

I am tired and out-of-sorts. I've been binging on things since I got off work: cheese, cigarettes, thoughts, TV. It's taking its toll. These are the days that I will later add up and lament.
The shows finished and I took Best Actor for both of my performances. The victory was hollowed when a friend pulled me outside of the bar that I payed $5 to literally cram myself into and then usurped my carefree evening with holding back her hair while she vomitted and tried to kiss me. What did I ever do? Really. Am I too accomodating? Do I have that neutral face that says "I'm accessible. Please come fuck with me and force your insecurities down my throat. I don't mind."? Most of the time, lately, I just want to be left alone. I don't want to walk you to the store or hear about your insipid and empty day. Your tiny personal victories. "I ate today!" I don't give a shit.
I take it and take it and take it. It's not right. Because I take it so much that when it does become too much, I explode on you and react like an asshole. Because I'm always the guy that says and does the right thing at the right time, when I finally do decide that I don't want to take your shit, you perceive it as me being a jackass.
"Hold my coffee cup a second, will you?"
sure
"Walk to the store with me?"
sure
"Come to Knott's Berry Farm with me and my weird-ass parents?"
sure
"Hold my hair back while I vomit and let me have your baby?"
NO! In fact, Fuck No! You go to Hell. You go to Hell and you die!
The Christmas season is coming and I'm looking forward to it. I always liked Christmas. I have a feeling that this one will be particularly lonely. Maybe that feeling stems from the recognition that my tolerance is wearing thin and I'll probably have managed to ostracize myself from everyone by then. I don't know. I just don't feel good. In so many ways. I'm sure it's just a phase, a funk, a passage of time. I just want it to be over.
I don't like the fact that I complain too much, which is why I'm complaining about it now. It seems I just can't win. I don't know how I just managed to back myself into this condundrum of complacency but I'm going to stop now. I think I'll just put my clothes in the dryer, smoke a few more cigarettes, and go to sleep. Tomorrow is a new day with an old outline.
Remember the old commercials for "Life" cereal? The kids always looked at it warily and then said "Give it to Mikey. He'll eat anything." Then, when Mikey seemed to enjoy it, they would exclaim "Hey, he likes it!" and dig in. What the fuck was all that about? They just got finished saying he'd eat anything, and now they're taking his lack of revulsion as a stellar recommendation. He ate a fucking spare tire last week; who cares if he likes it? He'll eat anything, for Christ's sake! Anyway, thought I'd leave you with a little comedy. Goodbye.

12:55 a.m. - 2004-11-15

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