It seems as if the move will actually happen due to a variety of coincidences that are truly above and beyond my control. I just had this crazy idea that I needed to start looking for my own place and then it just started spiraling out of control. Of course with the move comes the realization that I still have no furniture or dishes. I never thought to start buying that shit and stockpiling it. I could’ve been like some mad squirrel storing nuts or something for the winter. I knew I would move at some point but I never in a million years thought that it would happen as quickly as it did. I usually get an idea, fuck around for awhile and then get serious. Not this time. People are calling this streak of good luck a blessing from God or as I like to call sorry I didn’t save your house, how about a respite from all the shit that your life has thrust upon you?
I am actually trying to be positive but when I get positive and think that things are going to work out I get kicked in the balls. Every goddamn time. I learned not to be too happy but as I start shopping more I find that I am pretty excited about the next phase of my life. If my life were a band I would be on my fourth lead singer. This is the stage where you play state fairs and half empty bars. You start to appreciate the fact that you aren’t dead and when a girl smiles at you it seems as if the day may not turn to shit after all. This is stage four I think. The first stage was the implosion of my marriage and finding out that I can survive on my own, stage two is the fire and the just breathing portion, so this would actually be the third stage of my life and if I were a band I would be on my third lead singer. I would play half empty arenas and state fairs and the occasional Casino for free drinks and blow jobs from toothless hookers. I would be at the stage where I should know better than to snort coke off of a strippers tits but it’s just so much fun I can’t help myself.
Dare I start to think positive about where my life is heading? I think it’s still a little early to be too optimistic. At any moment a piano could fall out of the sky and crush me to death. I used to watch a show called Dead Like Me and the title character was killed by a toilet falling out of an airplane. That would be me. I would be walking along and wham! death by toilet. I never ever want to be the person that is overly cheery. You know the type of person I’m talking about. These are the assholes that are filled with boundless energy and find that life is GREAT! These are the people that feel as if they should be your cheerleaders and will go to great lengths to make you laugh or even cheer you up. They have no idea how annoying they are and think you’re a grumpy Gus that just needs a hug. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Are they on drugs? There’s no way to ask and get a straight answer due to their asshole answer of; “I’m high on life.” Is that even possible? These are the people that drive you batshit crazy with their fucked up attitude about life beng what you make it, Fucking hippies.
Don’t even get me started on those wonderful people that are trying to see this as a way for me to date. I’m moving just so I can get my balls licked. After living with my mom and step dad for close to two years why not move out and start dating? Sounds like a blast right? Give up on my space and freedom just so I can trade it in on matching his and her toothbrushes. When I think about living with a woman I start getting throw up sick. I have no desire to move in with a woman. I want my balls left on my body and not in a jar under the kitchen sink. I don’t want to work twelve hours and come home and cuddle and talk about her day. When I don’t feel like talking then I become an asshole because I don’t give a shit about her day. some days I just want her to shut the fuck up and not get pissed off if I want to relax by myself. that never happens though does it? Never.
If I date a woman that lives in my apartment building how in the hell do I get away from her? Sure the sex will be fun because she’s right down the hall but what if we break up and I start dating someone else? if she turns out to be some crazy stalker there’s no escape. I could come home one day and find odd notes about her ideas on forever and the kicker would be a Kelly Clarkson mix tape. You never want to date a chick that lives in the same neighborhood. Very bad idea because you never know when she’s going to become a total cunt. At some point women do become cunts and it isn’t pretty. They glare at you with the crazy eyes and want to know what you’re thinking all the time. She wants to hang out with you and talk nonstop. Who wants that shit? I think dating in general is a bullshit option and would prefer just a quickie in a Wendy’s bathroom. When we’re done I’ll buy you a Frosty and we go our separate ways. I don’t want your number so just take the Frosty and go.
I don’t hate women and if I could just get them to take off their clothes without opening their mouths life would in fact be perfect. I would become one of those overly cheery people. I’d hum fucking Barry Manilow and say hi to every motherfucker I came in contact with. I’d be kissing babies, laughing a lot more and just being the asshole you can’t stand because I’m just so damned happy all the time. I can talk to woman that are married or dating other people. It’s easy because there are rules. These women are okay to talk to because they’re involved with someone and the possibility of fucking isn’t there. You take away the ability or the opportunity to fuck a woman and a lot of guys can’t take it and bail. Women are great but I have reached a point where dating and even relationships just aren’t that important.
I have been looking at all my shit scattered in a way that I can find it and keep willing myself to pack but if I do pack and everything falls apart I’d just have to unpack again and that’s a real pain in the ass. I have never been a fan of moving. Is anyone? I always promise myself that this will be the last time but it never is. This time maybe it could be the last time. I’m not an optimistic person by any means but sometimes I lie to myself just to make myself feel better. There’s no harm in it and it’s not like I’m hurting my feelings because I know it’s bullshit. I know myself pretty well and I’ve gotten used to the lies. I told myself that dating an unintelligent woman would work out well and remove a lot of the issues I have with relationships. That was a big fuckng lie but I allowed myself to believe it and looking back it still seemed like a good idea and almost worked as long as I kept dumbing myself down.
Thursday is the true beginning and I’m sure that the orientation will give me at least a blog or a new view of how stupid people can be. You never know. I could even meet the girl of my dreams here. She could be wearing a wife beater and sweat pants and as an added bonus she could be holding a baby. I could be be this woman’s baby daddy. We could live forever in the projects and I’ll work and she’ll buy my stay at home girlfriend. Isn’t that what the American dream is? True love and all that horseshit? All I know is that I am going nuts trying to convince myself that the move is going to happen. That inner voice of course is telling me that I’m full of shit but I think he’s wrong.