I know I said I was gonna post a list soon, but I can only think of two things to put on it and I don't want to end up with ten Batarang money clips and four Chuck Close books. The crappy thing is that I can think of lots of things I'd like to get for my birthday, but it's all art supplies and bike-related items and I'm kinda particular about what kind of paints I use and I don't want to put people through the hassle of trying to find specific stuff. Plus, Lycra shorts are a little too close to underwear and I'd rather just buy on my own, thanks. Besides, making a list of everything I like and/or want feels really self-indulgent and childish. It comes across like I expect to get these things; like I deserve all this awesome stuff because of what a great friend/relative of yours I am.
God, birthdays are such a pain in the ass.
I've been thinking about this whole honesty thing for a while now and I'm kinda sick of it. It's kinda like waking up one morning after years-worth of swiping credit cards for everything and actually looking at your bill for once. It's astonishing how much I've kept hidden over the years and how long some of it's been in the dark. In a lot of ways, I wouldn't even know where to begin or who to tell or whether or not it's even worth remembering or talking about at this point. I think maybe that's why punishing myself with alcohol was so much easier: I could just drink 'til I felt physically as messed up as I did mentally, throw up, and pass out.
One of the weirder side effects of dishonesty, though, is that you never seem to remember who knows what about you. It's different from the whole "I can't remember who I told what lie" because I'm not really trying to keep up with an alibi so much as control a floodgate. I never really give anybody the whole story, so I'm never even totally clear, myself, what the whole story is. There's this manipulation thing that happens where I tell one person about one thing and then I tell another person about something different and whatever muscle it is that gets all tense can relax because it feels like I've been totally honest, even though I really haven't. It creates this sort of disjointedness between what I experience and how I feel, as though they were separate entities that have no bearing on each other. I treat the truth like it's just some gland that needs expressing from time to time; like a dog dragging his ass on the carpet, satisfying some need, but not really understanding why.
I guess maybe that's something else I could use my 'blog for: to fill in some of the gaps and let people in on what's going on with me. At least, I think maybe that should be part of it. The interwebs are great to connect remotely with other people and I should probably leverage that. So, yeah. Let's give that a whirl and see what happens...
...tomorrow. I technically missed my deadline for today, which throws my sense of timing/scheduling off. Plus, I'm just tired. I'll hop on tomorrow morning after I've slept in and eaten and let you guys know what's going on. Sorry if you thought I would land this with something profound though, if my previous 'blogs have set any kind of precedent, I seriously doubt it.
G'night, everybody...
No comments:
Post a Comment