the sickness

O loyal reader. I dont like to complain, honest. I rarely do. But today has been a rather hard day for me.

Why? By all Skinnerian analysis I have behaved as normal on this, the last complete wasted day of spring break. I woke up at 11 (early for me qua vacation), hit the bong until my stash was empty (roughly two bowls. You know you have smoked too much when this is necessary to even feel on balance. I wasn't getting high, it was like a cup of coffee. I wasn't able to hold open my eyes otherwise) and then I sat here, realizing my project for the day was to sober up, and get ready for the grind to start tomorrow at 5 sharp, when happy hour kicks into gear and everything is running like clockwork all over again. And I sat here and played games from orisinal and watched the newest episode of Clone Wars and the few remaining Dr Katz I had left on my hard drive. And then it was 12:30 and I still had the whole day in front of me and my buzz was gone and I was sitting here, sober and head throbbing and knowing there were things to do and things to do.

There was a tangentially related thread in D&D that kept me up last night, fully past the stoned marker set at high tide, and kept me busy most of the morning f5f5f5f5f5f5f5. I went to Arbys and picked up a chicken sandwich and a roast beef sandwich. I ate the chicken sandwich around 2, and had a cigarette and read a bit from the various books that I should be reading right now, and played some more games and more D&D and f5f5f5f5. And suddenly it is midnight, which means time for roast beef sandwich, which I warm up, and while it is in the nuker I take a leak, and I can hear quite clearly the rhythmic panting of sin going on right on the other side of the door to Nathalie's room, as if they are pressed right onto the door to the bathroom.

They aren't playing music, and now that I think about it, the doorbell rang probably 30 seconds before I got up to nuke my sandwich, so obviously they just started right at it as soon as the doors were closed. Thats my girl, Nath, you get yours first.

And so anyway I go back to my room and eat my soggy rb sandwich and think about the wasted day, and I realize today sucks. On top of the general back to the grind deal, I also have to come to terms with the fact that I will probably be having sex with harmony in exactly 24 hours. She seems quite bent on it, if her meth-riddled aim rantings are to be any indication. Of course, she's been bent in that direction for a while, and I've been able to hold off quite well thus far- Ben thinks this has manifested itself in a bit of ingenuine bragging on my part (citing the last few controversial posts I've made) as an attempt to say that I didn't want sex when in reality harmony wouldn't give it to me. Of course this is just transference, but Ben doesn't seem aware enough to admit it, or real enough to act on it in any more satisfying a manner than simply making fun of me, which I can handle. At least I hope it is that Ben is a bit slow on the pick up, because otherwise it might be festering in the back of his brain and I might need to start boarding up the windows. But so anyway I'll probably end up fucking harmony tomorrow, even though I really dont want to, because I have nothing else to hold on to, no other distractions, nothing to stop me.

I'm in freefall, see, and its a long, lonely way down and I've been falling for years now, just years... and then it occurs to me that, if I hold open the sides of my shirt, I can catch a bit of air, and my fall slows down dramatically. At least, from what I can tell in the pitch blackness, it feels like a more gentle fall. And I know I wont hit an updraft and soar out of the fall, but it does postpone the inevitable, or at least creates the illusion that it does.

But the worst part. the worst part. the worst part is that as you are holding open the sides of your coat so that they catch the air, and as you pride yourself for just a brief moment that you did something good, that you have gained some control over the situation, just as all this is coming together, you can feel- literally feel- the seams in your shirt give. Just a bit. You can feel the fabric loosen and you know this fall wont last forever but that the clothes will give out sooner than that. They wont last. And you know it doesn't matter anyway. But it gave you hope, for just a second.

wokka wokka