This One's for Me, not You

one of the problems here is that i spend a majority of my time publishing what i write. it leaves little room to sort out my own problems without depressing everyone reading. but, here and there, i'll write to myself and leave it unpublished.

in october, before my illustration job with snap dragon ended, i tried to catch up with myself.

it's long, anti-climactic, and not a required read. but i'm quasi-proud to eat nearly three [actual] meals a day, and if you see me awake at 7am, i'm carrying a coffee and starting my day-- rather than a glass of warm whiskey and about to pass out.

* * *

10.20.10

i was outside sometime after 4am, smoking a cigarette. i know i wanted the cigarette less than i wanted to be outside because i moved an ashtray closer to myself before turning on dead man and didn't smoke once during the two-hour movie. but, by the time the film was over, i still found myself tip-toeing past my roommate's door-- knowing he had to wake up in two hours-- and out the front to be outside.

the cigarette would've been my explanation if i woke him up.


being outside in the middle of the night, or even the early morning when people like my roommate go to work, can be a little like a mild introspective hallucinogen. though, that's arguably just the lack of sleep.

i was thinking about where my life is at twenty-five years. i drink every day. that's not an exaggeration-- it's just true.

it's justified by a few facts. for one, i've never lost a job or a girlfriend on account of my alcoholism. most people who meet me wouldn't have the slightest clue how much alcohol is in my life unless they'd seen me drink it. in society, i'm perfectly functional and, at times, an upstanding individual.

it's a little like giving a dog a treat when he does tricks like sitting, or shaking. if i do my tricks at whatever job i have, i should be given a wishnack treat: a beer, or nine.

but i drink a lot. i'm at the point where i've actually begun to worry. if i were to get sick, and need to stop drinking for a day or two, i would likely die.

so i've started smoking weed to trick my body into sleeping without so much alcohol. it's definitely helping-- pot's got a way of knocking me out, or convincing me another glass of whiskey is not such a good idea.

unfortunately, as of now, i'm an alcoholic who also smokes weed. it's like the little old lady who swallowed a fly, but arguably worse.

it's no fun when people ask "why do you drink so much?" because i don't know. i drink so much because i've been drinking so much for so long that my body bases most of its system off it. i suppose i had a reason for drinking a lot at a time, but whatever it was i don't remember and i'm sure it no longer applies.

i work at home-- as an illustrator-- which is what some would call "livin' the dream." and it is, in a sense. i'm a paid artist with my own schedule and no particular responsibilities beyond deadlines and bills.

but, not many dreams are what you'd think.

a schedule-less life with an at-home job has a way of turning people like me into mindless alcoholics who simply never do laundry. i'll find excuses for not leaving the house-- blame it on the damn hills-- and i'm feeling a bit pathetic. if i don't have something forcing me to wake up at a reasonable hour, or coercing me into looking presentable, my brain immediately declares those sorts of things worthless.

it's a major flaw, but i'm glad some part of me can see it.


i became single at the end of february and it was a rough change. no matter what sort of relationship you're in, ending it after a year is not simple. on the smallest level, all of your stories and adventures that have taken place in the last year will include your ex. so you can't even begin healing till you've made new experiences. music, landmarks, and co-workers will kindly pry into your damaged soul as well. at least for a while.

i left my job for good reasons. and sort of walked into this illustration job due to a series of coincidences. that event reassured me that i was doing the right thing with my life. it was like the illustration job was waiting for me to give up and just find it already.

and i was overwhelmed and excited by the idea of being free of a work-schedule and a girlfriend for the first time in years. no one could tell me what to do and i could grab my life and straighten back out to be how it was meant to be.

but i was on the porch smoking and realized how much work i have to do. remember when i quit smoking cigarettes in the first place? what the hell happened to that? and the alcohol act needs changing, too. i want to run, exercise, and make use of my schedule-less life. i want to walk across the entire city, talking with strangers and taking their portrait while recording their voices on a tiny mic.

there are two things i've heard recently and they both have to do with boats:

1. when you're young, you're a ship with no cargo: no one is telling you to do anything you don't want to do. you don't have kids, or a house, or things like that. you can sail anywhere you like, with no worry of what time you'll get there.

2. a ship in harbor will never be damaged, but that's not why ships were built.

i am, for the most part, cargo-free-- i don't have a rigid job, i don't have a girlfriend, and i'm pretty sure i don't have kids. i should be sailing about, but i'm not really. this past year has taken a lot of my sailing mojo away and it's been a struggle to grow it back. the last year changed my style of living to a point i never knew possible. but that's not a worthy excuse for sleeping till 3pm, drinking till 6am, and generally being inactive and adventure-less. that's not why ships were built.

flapjack would be furious.

i don't think i'm as bad as this post may have sounded-- i'm definitely happy and mostly healthy-- but in a perfect world i would not be an alcoholic, i wouldn't smoke cigarettes, and i would still be a really fast runner.

so i'm working on a sort of cleansing period. ironically, it may be the most chaotic thing i ever try.

* * *

i still smoke, and i think my leg may be permanently injured from falling out of that stupid cave-- so running simply isn't happening. but short of that i feel like i've made a lot of progress since writing that unpublished post.

though if patterns serve, what i'm pretty sure is my man-struation cycle will be starting in a month or two and that should be... interesting.

OMG OxOXOXOxOXO KBYE!!!!1