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The TOTVI Part 3, 11-30-06
The TOTVI Part 3, 11-30-06
"I love your pants around your feet
And I love the dirt that's on your knees
And I like the way you still say please
While you're looking up at me
You're like my favourite damn disease."
Exerpt from the lyrics to "Figured You Out" by Nickelback, off their "The Long Road" album. RoadRunner Int'l.
I've wanted to use these lyrics in a diary entry for months now. I hear this song all the time, and each time I hear it it's a different emotion. How many songs really do that nowadays? Not many to me. The last time I heard this, all I could think about was the singer saying "go fuck yourself" after building up to what seemed like a song that was going to be about love and hot lust; and then...like a tease. Like life to me.
Why this relates to me? I am now living the "go fuck yourself" part of growing up, I think. It started not too long ago, right between you and me, finding out secrets, wanting to rid myself of secrets...have I just grown up is all? Maybe that's what growing up is all about- having the "go fuck yourself" attitude to some degree.
It wasn't like that last month. Last month I'd bend over backwards to help people, to feel loved, to keep friends, to make alliances...I barely slept because I helped so many people in my life out. Maybe I helped them right out the door? I'm just dreaming half the time anyways, so who really gives a fuck? Right?
And then last month, no particular date in mind, it could have been yesterday for all I know, things started falling into place enough where I could be honest with myself. Do I really need anyone in my life anymore? I've always told you that I learned I don't need to love anyone but myself so long ago, and here I am years later wishing I had more people in my life to support me in some insignificant way.
And then to do what, do a complete one-eighty and not give a shit just recently. Is it out of desperation of having nothing but the most basic needs? I have wifey, new baby, beautiful grown up daughter, my family, and less than half a dozen people I give a shit about. Maybe less than half a half a dozen. So does it amaze me that I speak and still, to this day, not a single person listens? Is there some catch I am missing? Am I just being reactionary to something I have no control of? I know it's no secret I'm not the most well adjusted alter ego on the planet, I certainly am the most narcissistic. Remember the cricket? The narcissistic cricket? He makes his music no matter who's listening.
Today, this last day of November, I just don't care anymore. Last month, maybe it would have made a difference, but over one hundred thousand words have passed since I started talking through this moron. He doesn't even listen, why should you? He's lucky if he gets in a shower once a week he's so lopsided and depressed. And for what? Because no one listens?
Why should you.
He's got everything he needs, he doesn't need me anymore; maybe now I need him more than he needs me? And what hasn't he learned by now that I could possibly teach him? Or you, for that matter. You read this because it's like watching an accident on the highway more than it's because you get something out of it every time I happen to randomly pop up with some bullshit about how I'm feeling or what I'm thinking...don't sugar coat it.
Who gives a fuck? Honestly.
Maybe I do need him more than he needs me. Maybe he's become the baggage...
Jesus, has he become the baggage? Is that what this is? Has he become the disease I've always been talking about? I thought I was the favorite damned disease...
Now I'm addicted to his complete lack of life...this white screen is nothing more than a reflection of him on me now instead of me on him. How things change in six short years. Go from him needing me to me needing him. Well, at least I don't need you anymore. And you know who I mean.
You know that feeling when you run out of gas? You are driving, everything is happy, that song comes on the radio and you start to sing along before...stut stut stut...the car starts to slow...stutter...and you immediately glance mid lyric at the gas gauge as if to lay blame on the car and not you...but it really is you...
And now, you are anywhere but where anywhere really is, stuck alone on the side of some empty highway, alone and empty. The song still plays in the background but you've lost the will to sing it and all you can think about is how you needed to get to where you were going. Now the priority is just going anywhere, fuck where you were going. Song still plays, Dj's still make their money, the gas gauge still looks at you defiantly... (There are a lot of ...'s in this one, eh?) and you sit there with your empty wallet open on the hot sun-baked dashboard as a reminder of just how fucked up this life is that you aren't a gazillionaire by now because of me and what I've had to say since the turn of the century.
There's no irony in that, just plain abject humiliation at best. Hopeless miserable humiliation. Kinda like where he is right now.
So ignore him- I certainly don't give a fuck. If anything it'll inspire me to write more.
As far as him? Fuck'm. When he's dead I'll finally be alive. You'll see.
You'll see.
Live long
and get
naked.
-Natey
Submitted by natey on Thursday, November 30, 2006 (15:52:41) (1212 reads)
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| "Features: The TOTVI Part 3, 11-30-06" | Login/Create an Account | 5 comments |
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Re: The TOTVI Part 3, 11-30-06
(Score: 1 )
by hotstuff on Thursday, November 30, 2006 (13:52:04) |
I'll see what I think I see and you'll be who you want to be.  Insightful
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Re: The TOTVI Part 3, 11-30-06
(Score: 1 )
by Michael on Thursday, November 30, 2006 (22:47:08) |
The Idiot has a common ground that runs under all our feet including the parts we would lie about or that remind us of ourselves. These exploits and expletives regarding people and places we naturally associate with or wish we didn’t, and your ability to relate it is why I read it and like the idiot. Thanks, Michael
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