All of life is just a fucking defense mechanism.

 I will let you in.

Last night, I agreed to go on a date with a man that I’m not physically attracted to. He’s an interesting person, so I feel bad about not being attracted to him.  We were sober for half and got drunk for the second half.  The plan for the date was to ride the bus to a restaurant in the park to listen to his buddy play music.  However in transit, the friend texted him and asked him not to come because his girlfriend was going to be there, so we walked around the park instead. He wants to be a writer. He speaks very passionately. I started to think about making out with him at one point. We discuss a bit about life and what’s important, though he never really answers anything specifically. He tells me how he used to be catholic and was going to be a priest, however in seminary he fell in love with a fellow priest-in-training (whatever they are called).  Went through a low period of extreme guilt for being gay and then became gay, but later decided that he isn’t gay. However he’s only been with 4 women and his man count is extremely high.  He is awkwardly over weight.  Unfortunately for him, he has a very doughy kind of excess weight and breasts.  I was trying very hard to overlook this, however once we started drinking, I could not.  I was not embarrassed to be seen with him in public generally though at one point I started to.  I squashed that shit quickly. I still have work to do, but I guess I shouldn’t feel guilty for not being attracted to his body, while I am attracted to his mind.  I don’t desire to see him naked, but I would let him see me naked. 

I met him initially on Thursday night, when I was desperately horny. I was hoping that this boy that I had talked to previously, Chris, would be at the bar. He was and he was there with this man talking about life.  I related more so to Chris in his hurt state and I was definitely physically attracted to him.  I sat at the bar for a bit eavesdropping on their conversation doodling in my sketchbook before I decided to ask if I could join their conversation.  Of course that ended the stimulating bit of the conversation as suddenly these boys just wanted to get to know me.  I was annoyed. We all stayed for more drinks than we intended.  Andres asked if he could add me on Facebook and take me out to listen to his friend play music over the weekend. I agreed.  Chris kept acting out in jealousy when he would come back and find Andres had moved into his seat to speak to me.  He always moved back. I went home with Chris that night and we fucked like we were never going to fuck again. His apartment was a mess. He mentioned his ex girlfriend several times. He was hurting. I wanted to fuck him better. I am hurting and I want to be fucked better. I should know better by now, but I have released all expectations I have of Chris. When someone is so hurting you can’t expect anything from them.  Nobody should expect anything from me.  I shouldn’t have fucked him because I have a yeast infection that I’m pretty sure that now I have fucked up the treatment I attempted, which is really lame of me. I need to go to the store and pick up an OTC treatment.

Last night, Chris texted me to fuck.  I didn’t answer it because I was out with Andres.  I texted him late last night and I think I drunkenly called him. Oops. I sent him a text today asking what was up, but I hurt him because I didn’t answer right away last night. I wonder if he thinks I was fucking someone else, because I fucked him so easily.  I could’ve very easily been fucking someone else.  I might as well should have been.  I’ve decided to let go of the hurt. I am going to take more ‘risks’ with people. I don’t care anymore. What is the life about? In this day and age it’s about enjoyment and pleasure. We don’t need to work so hard to survive, so I won’t. I don’t care anymore. I want to lay in the shade all day and be held and I don’t really care who is holding me anymore.  I have given up on love. I don’t think it exists. I just want to enjoy my time in the sun while I still have it. I am a pleasure seeker. I am falling off the deep end. I thought I had hit ‘bottom’ but I think I will keep going. I am going to drink until my liver kills me and feel no remorse for those who will be sad when I die. I am a child of the night.  The poison is what keeps me going. Pleasure is my purpose. Pleasure is my meaning of life.  We can deny ourselves of emotions, so will I. I will become a void. A dark black hole in the existence of society. Use me as I use you and don’t expect anything from me except for the respect I don’t grant myself.

I will push you back out with every passionate kiss and soft embrace. I will break your heart if you let me, as I will always let you break my heart. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. These words make me want to cry.  Nobody can have the darkness that is inside. It’s mine. All mine. I can’t give it up. This opiate of hate has too tight a hold on me. I don’t want to give it up. I seek solace in the pain and sorrow that surrounds me.  I think I am not going to fuck anymore. I just want you to hold me. Please hold me. I promise I won’t get attached. Just please hold me in your sleep. The loneliness is infallible.  It will always hold me so close. In closing, fuck my parents. They fucking suck. I fucking hate them with every fiber of my being.  They are so incapable of dealing with the guilt of what they’ve done to me.  Just say you’re sorry and fucking make the change. I don’t want to live forever. I am going to live life like today is my last, because it damn well could be. And I have no problem upping the odds of that. ‘Alcoholism is a trend’ he tells me.  It’s true. It’s real fucking trendy to just kill yourself instead of embracing the hurt and overcoming it.  I will get attached. I am attached to everyone who has ever come into my life. It’s not that I hate people, I just care about them too damn much.

All of life is just a fucking defense mechanism.