One of the, um, benefits that I got when I started bottling shit up back in the Summer was that I was suddenly able to remember things that I'd either forgotten or, more often, failed to even notice before.
I've been able, by piecing these newfound memories, together with new information passed onto me from others, to confirm, once and for all, that I am an idiot.
Man, there were a lot of commas in that sentence. Way too many, if you ask me.
But I digress. Back to the me being an idiot stuff. I know this comes as no big shock to any of you, and it didn't really come as that big of a shock to me, but being pretty sure of something is very different than being fucking positive.
Hey, here's an example!
I remember this one night. I even wrote about it. I've already kicked myself numerous times for the way I handled that particular night. Or didn't handle it. Whatever.
So it's already not my favorite night to think about, but it got quite a bit less so last night, when one of those damned doorways in my head creaked open to reveal...
The conversation.
I'm not going to get into exactly what was said and who said it and how hopeful one person was and how retarded another person was. I'm just going to say that, and I know that I'm repeating myself here, I'm just going to say that I'm an idiot.
In fact, I am such an idiot, I hereby claim my rightful throne as The Supreme Idiot Of The Entire Fucking Universe and I defy anyone to challenge me in this, my kingdom of retardation.
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This shit has been happening to me a lot in the last few months. As I've become able to think about certain things at all, I've become able to remember all sorts of fun little tidbits like this.
Every now and then, after remembering something particularly annoying or intriguing, I tell myself, Self, you fucking dumbass, you need to pick up the phone, or get on a plane, or something. You can't just keep ignoring this shit. That's what got you into this mess in the first place.
But then I tell myself, But Self! Everything I'm remembering happened a year and a half ago! No matter what was going on or might have been going on back then, it's just too late now.
And then I say to myself, You really are a pathetic waste of space, Self.
And then I say, I know you are, but what am I?
And it all sort of degenerates from there, and I end up doing nothing but writing about what an idiot I am.