correctional fluid
29 August 2003 at 10:26 am

he got uppity with me last night, when i went to pick him up at 12:30 and was in an admittedly horrific mood. why do i have to take everything out on him, he whines. because i can. why do i have to be so mean to him? now you know how it feels. but he's so nice to me, he treats me really well, he cleans for me, he does my laundry, he cooks for me, he buys my groceries, he buys me things -- what else can he do, tell him, he'll do it.

silence.

and then: you don't have to be confronted every day with the fact that you were cheated on. you don't have to deal with a supercunt of a coworker whom you also happened to have fucked, you don't have to deal with that on a daily basis. you don't have to lose sleep over this, to have nightmares over this, to be tortured by the terrifically perverse versions of that night, or those nights, or whatever it was, that still haunt me.

apparently, it's still an issue, four months later.

well, he's sorry, he's still sorry, and if there was one thing he could change, it wouldn't be bringing his father back, it wouldn't be never starting heroin, it wouldn't be never hurting his mother, it would be that, he'd take it all back if he could, but he can't.

and he's given up the only thing he loves more than me, for me: liquor. as if that's supposed to make me feel better.

but we fell asleep on good terms in spite of everything.

sarah's in town, so we got together last night to discuss indie music (the kind you can't buy in record stores) and religious fads. our relationship is the epitome of love-hate. we'll argue about anything, just to prove that we can get over it and still be friends. and when i say we'll argue about anything, that includes the argument that we argue about everything. "no, we don't." "yes, we do!" poke. poke. you started it! mooooooooom! infantile at best, but all in good fun.

it is 10:43am and i have helped one customer. let's see how long we can keep this going. god dammit, i need some nicotine.

one year ago today: nothin.

two years ago today: "when i want to, i do get along with everyone. the problem is, i don't often want to."

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.