Wednesday, June 07, 2006

my life sucks

well, no; it's all pretty good at the moment; i get to spend most of everyday doing things that i enjoy, people appreciate my work, my friends are all good-looking, kate is really good-looking.
I was thinking about the tendency to write when we are at our most introspective [miserable]; we don't write about fun, we go out and have it, but mooching is unhealthily compatible with writing: sunny again today, but in my heart it is always three o'clock on a rainy, hungover sunday afternoon...

saw X today at the pub/art opening/sexpo, she/he was with friend Y, we had another of those awkward conversations where the only reason i took my foot out of my mouth was to put the other one in; X got angry, it shouldn't still hurt me but...

...why can't i communicate easily; i feel like i'm wrapped in a bodysuit made of sleeping bags, shouting from the bottom of a swimming pool, while everyone else is on coke, dancing naked at studio 54, occasionally glancing over at the pool thinking "look at the underwater weirdo in the sleeping bag outfit, what's she trying to say? who gives a fuck, more cocaine and nude disco..."

i don't really know what to do about this, I've been tempted to take notes, so that i remember interesting things to write about, eg; last night i saw some asian boys with a ghetto blaster breakdancing in the closed off tivoli arcade entrance, passersby were stopping and hanging out with them, they were doing some pretty good headspins, i wonder if they are related to the mysterious RMIT formation dancers. I haven't been disciplined enough to do that. I did think i should write down the breakdancers and so remembered, but it doesn't always work. often i stare at my blog, can't think of anything to say, and end up on ebay, looking at internet trousers.

Actually, some arrived today, I'm not to sure about them, they may be a little small, although i have been wearing them for a few hours and they seem better, maybe i will still need to shed some fat from my generous arse [generous, but not overly generous, i like to hope..]. The thing that makes me more suspicious is that although the seller was UK based, the jeans were shipped from Shenzhen, china, home of designer rip-offs...
the parcel also read "ladies jeans" although as far as i can tell they are boy jeans. ultimately it doesn't really matter if they are real; they cost as much as a reasonably cheap pair of jeans here and i like them.

i might see you around in my lady-pants.

5 Comments:

Blogger hell said...

hi lady pants = ladies bottom = you

yay he posted. i like your writing... especially the bit about pools, cocaine and sleeping bags.

kate IS really good looking. so are you. sickening really.

9:50 AM  
Blogger rhymes with pony said...

yeah but simons fat.
when you are having fun and waterskiing its hard to write.
but miserable people are often more stationary
purging is good anyway
especially when you have unsupportive brothers who make smug comments on your blog when you have spent the night in deep misery and convulsive crying fits and are not clear headed when you get on your blog and just type stuff till its out there and less of weight on your brain and emotions and soul and everything!

10:29 AM  
Blogger hell said...

ow pony!

1:09 PM  
Blogger rhymes with pony said...

hmm...better now.
pretty much
do you think we get a bit more damaged and self protecting each time this happens. like a war veteran, never quite recovering or able to fully function again?
or stronger and clearer about what we want and how to pursue it. Like a phoenix, or a growing snowball?

6:18 PM  
Blogger greenasenvy said...

we get more damaged and self protecting, schmony. to the point of appearing selfish. greetings from the set of desperate housewifes. california is hot.

2:56 PM  

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