-- I should have been a monk. I think if I believed in God, then
I could be really religious and cool with it. If there really was
a God, or gods, or some shit like that, and he or she or they had the
way, then wouldn't it be a good idea to listen to it? After all,
this is fucking God we're talking about, and if he says don't jerk off
over your neighbor's wife or property or ass or something, then you shouldn't.
And I could be cool with that. It'd greatly simplify my life -- no
girlfriend? No problem, God will give me eternal happiness in the
Heaven. No money? Money is a symptom of desire; better to live
a life of chosen penury so that I can move up the karmic chain in the next
life. Y'think Jesus or Mohammed or the Siddhartha Gautama ever sweated
some Asian honey? Not a chance.
Of course I totally gave up on religion in college, so now I'm fucked spiritually. I have no guidance, and so I'm supposed to go out and find my own. I can't even find a decent job, how the fuck am I gonna find happiness and fulfillment? Christ, so I go out into the world and totally fuck it up and get lost, when I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.
Shit, my mom's curious about my quick recovery from the "flu". I called her yesterday like a dumbass, didn't want tell her I was having withdrawal from an antidepressant. As you can guess, she doesn't know I'm on them. Neither does my dad - he hates psychiatry to begin with. Maybe I'll tell her when she comes out here in a few weeks. Or maybe I could think up a good lie in the meanwhile...Gonorrhea? At least then she'd think I was getting some.
Fuck, I am never ever ever gonna get some. I just fucking know it. I knew it in middle school, I knew it in high school, I knew it in college, and now I know it in the post-college world of loser ham-and-eggers like myself. Maybe a lot of other dorks have done this at one time or another, but I used to wish, and maybe I still do, that I lost all my sex drive. Kaput. I had some kind of surgery that rendered me without a sex drive. I'd like to keep my jaj, b/c it makes peeing a whole lot easier and I wouldn't have to explain it to my doctor, ("What happened to your penis?" "Oh, I didn't want a sex drive anymore so I had it removed, and the penis had to go along with it." "Oh."). Seriously, I waste so much goddamn thinking about chicks, and gettin' some, and I concern myself with how I dress and what kind of car I'm gonna get and blah blah blah blah blah.
Sometimes I think I should just break down and cry. But I never do. I've cried twice in the last two years, and before that....well, I guess I cry about once a year. That seems awfully high. I can't imagine any of my friends crying. Well, Das says he will when Magic Johnson finally dies. But that's a long way off. A few nights ago when I was alone, depressed, ill, alone, cold, and possessed by a succubus from the 3rd level of Hell, I thought I should cry. So I tried to cry for about ten seconds. Nothing happened. It'd been easier for me to will myself to spontaneously combust.
There's a new Woodstock festival planned for this summer. It's going to have like, 40 acts over 3 days. Damn, I so wish I could go. But it's not going to be cheap -- gotta fly out to Rome, NY, and pay like $250 for each festival ticket. Throw in money for food and drugs, each person would probably looking at close to a G. Plus, I'd have to find someone to go with me. I think Das would be the only person who'd be totally up for it, but he's too cheap to wanna spend that much money. He'd rather take a Greyhound, try to get some scalped tickets at 1/2 price, and then mooch bud and other shit off of other people. In any case, it's moot b/c of the money issue. Still man, Ice Cube, Rage Against the Machine, and Willie Nelson, all in the same venue!
I've never been much for superstition or luck or that kind of bullshit. Still, recently I've found myself more willing to toss change into a fountain and make a wish, or actually try to find some meaning from a Panda Express fortune cookie. ("You will never get any.") Since I've started smoking Camels lately, I remembered something that Michelle taught me about lucky cigarettes - after you open the pack, you take one cigarette out, make a wish on it, and then put it back in the box upside-down. If you make it the last cigarette in the pack that you smoke, you're wish'll come true. Naturally, I always find myself wishing for the same type of thing -- to get some, to get a woman, to get a date, blah blah. It never seems to work. Maybe they're all defective cigarettes. I should change brands.
Phil and Louis just called me again. I swear, it seems like getting some and smoking up and drinking is all they do. Well, and gamble. Mebbe that's just what they talk about with me, but I can't imagine them having time for much else, especially Phil -- he works crazy hours putting together junk bonds or some shit like that, and then he gets home at midnite or something. Then he gets drunk and gets some! Damn, I wish I had his life. Only person getting some around here is Mr. Right Hand. Well, Duc does too, but I don't wanna think about that. Ick. OK, so does Akiyo, but I don't wanna think about that, either. Louis keeps telling me I should just go and pay to get some, but that's always seemed sorta off-limits to me. I dunno why, especially cuz I'm favor of legalizing prostitution. If you can pay for things, and you can have sex, why is paying for sex illegal? <--George Carlin said that, and its really true. But anyhow, I dunno, I just would feel like a real loser if I went to a whorehouse, especially if it's my first time and all. "Not that there's anything wrong with that.." but it's just how I feel. Yeah, I'm a strip club king but I'm not into hookers. Go figure.
OK, I gotta think about more clearly defined topics, rather then just rattling on about not gettin' any. I've been rattling on about that since Reagan's first administration. I'll make a list of different ideas to see if my brain is fixated on anything else besides layin' some pipe.