It’s always been a bit stalkerish in quality.
Metallica’s “Ride the Lightning” blasts out of my speakers.
The folks going to the beach music club across the street don’t seem to like
it. Go figure. I’d guess at least a few of them were metalheads back in the
day. When they were rebelling against their rich daddies and trying to be
individuals.
Hell, it happens.
One day, I’ll be dead. And so will you. But somehow, I’m
guessing, these words will still exist. And if not, at least I’m on microfiche.
Ha. That last little rhyme (sorta) made me smile. That’s
always a good thing.
It’s strange to try and sit down and write when I really,
really, really don’t want to. It reminds
me of those days back in 2006 when I just wrote to bleed. But then I wanted to.
I wanted to cry in the wind, knowing that only a couple of people were looking,
and they really weren’t all that interested.
My parents are getting ready to have their 48th
anniversary. My sister and her husband, their 20th. My grandmother
just turned 90.
Meanwhile, my sister is dating her “boyfriend” for the 12th
or 13th year, minus that strange year when we lived together for a while
for some months. That was a weird year.
Me? I’m on my sixth year of angst. It’s nowhere near the
angst it was, but it still exists. I guess it always will. I lost a chance to
be a dad. That was worse. Haunted is a good way to phrase it. Now I want to
listen to the Pogues.
My mind works strange. Ha.
I read something today at work that made me cringe. It’s
been a bit. I’m very glad that editors are editing the so-called editor now. He’s
a stupid kid, and he’ll always be that. But maybe now that someone is
(hopefully) correcting him again, like I tried unsuccessfully for three months
before giving up (my biggest professional failure for sure), I’m hoping there’s
a glimmer of hope. The other guy? Not at all. He’s a fanboi loser of the worst
kind. What I was at 24, wearing my UVA shirts to ASU practices. But I learned,
after being called out. And that’s the best thing that can happen to a young
sports journalist. Of course, now I’m a grizzled sports journalist who hasn’t
written a word for newspaper publication that got my name on it for quite some
time now. But I’m applying for two jobs that will let me write again.
Hopefully, I’ll at least get a nibble. I regret, somewhat, not taking the job I
could have had in Bristol, Va. A great boss would have helped me get to where I
should be. I have the chops, I’ve just not been pushed in so God damn long that
they’ve become flabby and discolored. I’m ready to get off that pity-party
wagon and start writing again. I try not to, but I still believe. In me. In it.
Beer makes me happy. Well, happier.
I miss conversations on barstools with friends. All of them
live so damn far away. I’ve lived here in Morehead City for over two years now.
I haven’t met a person I’d call a friend yet. The longest conversations I have
with people here who aren’t visiting me are with my landlord’s secretary and
the girl at Food Lion with the big nose and nice ass. She talked to me today.
Said “She’ll be right with you.” I was in the “express lane” that had no
cashier b/c she was bagging groceries for the butt and beak gal. I was just
doing my look at the ceiling thing – yeah, I’d call it a “thing” – and I guess
she recognized it. Hence the sentence to me. It’s good to be noticed.
I read today that child molestation is bad. Thanks for that.
I also heard on TV that if you are molested, you are a “lost
soul.” I really wish people would think before just spouting off about things
they probably have no clue about. I mean, I don’t know much, but what I do
know, I know better than to just blanket call victims of abuse “lost souls.”
Why? Because they survive and thrive many times. They aren’t lost. It’s the
pederass that is lost.
Speaking of…why is everyone so quick to just say “kill the
fucker!” or “I hope he gets gang-raped in prison!” about it. I mean, yeah, he
deserves it, but fuck. I used to be full of so much anger and hatred too. But I
learned how to just let that go. Do I hold on to some things still? Yes. But
damn, why so much hate? Especially if you have no connection except maybe being
a season-ticket holder?
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