posted by dave on Monday, December 11, 2006 at 1:31 AM in category drink, ramblings

I had to get out of my house.

I was getting very close to writing something stupid.

So I left.

Now I'm sitting in The Pub in Louisville. I'm drinking a yummy Newcastle (2778), and I'm probably about to write something stupid in this notebook.

But I'm not worried. I'm miles away from my home and my computer. I've got a mandatory buffer zone between what I write and anything that I might publish.

Besides, this way I can always blame the beer.


In the movie Team America: World Police there's a scene that goes something like:

Person one: I didn't mean to hurt you.

Person two: I know. You just didn't care if you did.

I know exactly how person two felt. I mean, if she was real and not a puppet, and if it was real life and not a movie, well then I'd know exactly how she felt.

I can't help but think back to the cruelest words ever said to me. Not said exactly. Texted. Those eleven fucking words. Yeah, I know exactly how that puppet chick felt.

(Having a Young's Double Chocolate Stout (383) now.)

That was almost two years ago, but it set the tone for most of the relationships and non-relationships and pseudo-relationships since then.

It's weird. You'd think that deliberate cruelty would be worse. Than apathy. Than ignorance.

But it's not.

I sat at home today, and I sit at this bar right now, and I just want to scream. I want to cry. I want to wail. I want to go into a rage. I want to spontaneously burst into flames.

I want to be noticed, for better or for worse. I'm fucking sick of being irrelevant.

(Having another Newcastle (2798) now.)

I could make myself be noticed. I could become relevant. It wouldn't even be that hard. I could end the apathy and the ignorance.

It would be easy.

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