OH COME ON!!

I've been listening to this song on repeat most of the evening at work. I'm feeling very, very "WHAT THE FUCK?!? NO, SERIOUSLY!?" tonight.

Beth Hart- "Guilty"

Uh huh! Hit me!

Yes, baby, I've been drankin'.
I know I should'n come by no more,
But I found myself in trouble, darlin'
And I have no place else to go.

I got some whiskey from a bottle.
Got some cocaine, cocaine from a friend.
And I had to keep on pushin', darlin'
Til I was back in your arms again.

And I am, I'm guilty. I am guilty, daddy.
And I'll be guilty for the rest of my life.
How, how come I never do what I am sposed to do now?
And when I try to do it, never turns out right?

Hey! Hey! Hey!

You know how it is with me mother fucker.
You know I just can't stand myself.
It takes a whole lot of medicine, darlin'
For me to pretend I am somebody else

So I found out Lucillity is no more. That is really weird to me as it was the first link I put on this damned thing. Weird and a little depressing. Well, it also makes me a little jealous. I find it depressing that it is depressing that some, from what I could tell, pretty great guy who used to date Nat would choose to stop blabbing about his life to a bunch of total strangers. I know all were not strangers to Corbin, but you know what I mean.

Is this really what I have been reduced to? Electronic connections to people with whom I do not share my life. Connections that are most often solely based on a few typed words a month. When I am lucky, a few typed words a week. Have I become one of those "internet people" who can no longer interact with living, breathing ones; so I turn to my computer, desperately hoping to keep some twinge of social normalcy? That is just sick. I think I am one of those people. Corbin has broken free from the surge protector and moved on to real interaction with the living. I am still sitting here, typing away, prating on about minor things in my life that in no way effect anyone but myself. I don't really even read (not with regularity) anyone else's blog. I just don't know. I guess anyone who has stumbled across this is probably thinking waaa waaa waaa, but I don't care. I give up. I want have wanted to quit writing in this thing. I had been planning on it, but there are those times, now few and far between, that I actually enjoy writing in it. Though after reading my journal from start to finish, I can see that I have only gotten progressively less chipper and more on the outskirts of suicide. No, I haven't the testicles to actually go thru with it unless I fling myself from the hospital's roof, but still. I really, and this is not me having a pity party (well not wholly), think I am supposed to commit suicide. I am convinced that the higher power has been wanting me to do it, but I am too chicken shit. That is why every time I fucking turn around, I am being punched in the stomach, slapped in the face, or shit upon. It is very distressing. I guess I just complain too much.

So earlier today, yesterday now, my landlady/sister-in-law's mother called to tell me that she wants me to move out of her house. So now I am homeless. Okay I am being a bit dramatic, go figure, but I am still being flung from my home. Father O'Flannigan (there's a blast from the blogger past, right) has been kind enough to take me in. I was going to possibly damage the house, but Father O'Flannigan has convinced me to take another route. Why do something that I could get into trouble for when I can do more damage legally? Oh well.

Oh and Jason and I are back together. He found out from this guy that I fucked a New York architect for six hours after the breakup. Jason had agreed to have an unprotected orgy with some guys, one being a friend of mine, but decided against it after realizing it had gotten back to me. He also went to Pensacoula for Fag Fuck Fest '05 so I am sure he met up with some random guy in his hotel room for a quick trick. Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming him. We each know that the other had indiscretions during the breakup. Now we are trying to work past everything and move on with our lives together. I only mention it here because if I don't, I'll continue to dwell on the conjured images of what I imagine him to have done with countless men (he has not admitted anything to me). Maybe if I say it on here, I'll stop making up in my head different scenarios that he was in with countless faceless men in a two week period of time. I kind of linger on it constantly. I think that we are extremely different, and I had numerous reasons to breakup, but think I now know what the majority of our problems boil down to. That's all for now.

Later Consuela.