(There will be random drops and fragments in the longform stuff. Fair warning. After the fact.)
Gonna try to see if writing out my emotions - as opposed to eating them - still works, because almost literally NOTHING else works - not sleeping, or eating, jacking off, exercise does a bit, and it’s not like I really have the option of running away.
Really, I managed to give myself - let’s not do that. I was there, I know what happened, no need to retread that path. (Irony now is that I have no idea what this is about. So, take that, me!) No, the more important thing is to discuss the WHY, not the WHAT. (Just going to go out on a limb here and assume it’s a failed interaction with a woman.) Far as I’m concerned, it could have resulted from any particular action - I’m sure we can figure it out later should it become relevant, but let’s burn that bridge when we get to it. (“Failed interaction” sounds about right.)
The most interesting thing was the once-again overwhelming sense of despair.
Really, I’m bummed out that I can’t make it back to New York this weekend. I’m sure I COULD figure it out if I were really and truly inclined, but the logistics might just bee too much for me to overcome - if it’s not how to get there, it’s what to wear, how much to spend, et cetera.
And I suppose I don’t really NEED what would’ve been my ulterior goal in going - despite what that fucking coin says, I’m going back there, although I suppose realistically I can no longer say that that’s what I want, or at least the ONLY thing that I want. Again, I know that being 30 in and of itself has no particular significance, but damned if it just hasn’t taken up residence in the waterlogged sections of my brain. What I REALLY need to do is just work on divorcing myself from I guess “society’s notion of what it means to be 30”, since it is so very obvious that I am on the non-traditional career path. (Life path, whatever.)
Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.
Aside from New York (obviously), the other thing I desperately and truly want is my own Bleak House, through probably not to that extend, where I have to have two houses and shit. (Though that would be ill.) At a minimum, I want a nice, goodly-sized house of my own that i can fill with all the shit that reflects my personality.
(Actually, if we’re being straight-up “money’s no object” here, I WOULD actually want two houses - one, sleek and ultramodern place in New York, my weekday workspace (ala that $21 million, five story sex palace in Tribeca (?), or would this be the weekend spot?)
Okay, now this would be my badass living situation. I’d have two places - one a nice brownstone, three stories (all mine), nice and historic on the outside, but sleek and ultramodern on the inside (although I’d personally prefer five stories, (1) to have an underground movie theater level, and (2) to justify having an elevator that played bossa nova, and REAL bossa nova, not muzak), pretty much decked out in high-end tech while retaining a pseudo-minimalist flair. More than likely, this is my weekday home, where I am just basically free to get work done, in a third-floor workspace that has a lovely view of the city below (although the desk is tucked in a corner, away from distractions and prying eyes).
The second home, which I’d put in Baltimore, is a three-story jawn (although two-and-an-attic’ll suffice if the place is wide enough), and like the brownstone, it’s historic and cultivated outside, but unlike the brownstone, it’s just filled with - it’s my Bleak House, basically. More than a place to get away and relax and be surrounded by all my cool shit, it’s a representation of my packrat/collector’s side, where I routinely indulge in my acquisitions “talent”, just jump in the car, head to thrift stores and flea markets and shit all around the region, and if it looks fly, it goes back to my crack’d and crook’d manse.
There wouldn’t be a clear delineation as far as “weekday house/weekend house” - I’d be in each one as needed. They would just reflect my personalities - one, clean and ultrafocused, the other, scattershot and wide-ranging. I could actually love it, even if I’d have to grab two copies of any movie I’d buy for EACH house. (And taxes, I guess.)
I’d say as far as material possessions go, that’s pretty much it - just two cool houses. Otherwise, I’d keep my current car - just make sure it’s up to snuff - and that’s about it. I don’t want or need a fleet of cars or shit like that - although a helicopter would be nice - realistically I’d just end up giving the excess away, probably to people who desire it more than me.
For whatever reason, I’ve been desirous of the figure $300,000. Obviously that’s not enough to buy all of what i described above, but it would put me into a comfortable spot - my bills and debt would be gone, my car would be fixed, I could (theoretically) pay a year’s rent in NYC in advance, and then —