Never Right.

I’m having a hard time figuring out if I like being alone, or if I need people in my life at all times. Sometimes when people are calling me and texting me, I cringe and wish that they all leave me alone, but when my phone is silent for a long time I get panicked that I’ve ceased to exist.

I talked to this Irish guy who now lives in Canada about almost everything. It was great to go over history, politics and that view from outside of America. Man, America has crushed a lot of people to get where She is today. He was impressed with my historical knowledge of Ireland and I was impressed with his historical knowledge of America’s Western Expansion. We made a lot of fun of MLS fans.

While walking through the Pearl District in the wind and rain I got melancholy. That sense that I am unattached and my stomach became ice cold overwhelmed me and I felt alien as I walked by all these couples walking through the Pearl holding hands and laughing. I panicked mostly because nothing looked familiar. Even Powell’s had no familiarity to it and I wished I could run into someone I knew, but I knew that no one would be out in this weather. I thought about how the city just seems to reject me now and doesn’t offer that same comfort that I relied on when I was younger. I felt nauseous and dizzy and thought I might pass out, but I kept on walking. I stopped at Sizzle Pie and ordered this flimsy piece of shit pepperoni and all I wanted was a thick ass piece of Rocco’s. The guy working called me dude and I just wanted to pull him over the counter and beat him and pull out his long hair, but I just wolfed down the greasy cheese cardboard triangle and got the fuck out of there and headed to 6^th where the 12 would get me the fuck home.

I really like the Pittsburgh Steelers’ bumblebee uniforms, but I like the Ravens better.

I watched the Trailblazer game – nothing.

Sorry, I’m depressed.

I made the mistake of looking back at old pictures on my computer and my Facebook ‘archives’. I’m at the point of post break up where I miss all my ex girlfriends. Yes, even that one.

I loved them all. Yes, even that one.

Everyone I know is getting sick or just getting over being sick and I’m waiting for my turn. I bought a huge bag of cuties. Vitamin C supposedly holds back colds and AIDS.

My Spotify is playing Beethoven’s minuet in G. I had to play the shit out of that on violin when I was a kid.

Last night I had a dream that I was in Africa and I had to smuggle these kids out of whatever country I was in. Checkpoint after checkpoint of men with AK-47s checking my papers and asking me questions and me sweating and fearing that they would find the kids, and after the final checkpoint the guard tries to stop me at the last minute and I gun it. All the guards start shooting and bullets are flying by me and glass and metal pieces are exploding all around me and I get to the border, but when I get out and open the back of the truck all the kids were dead. I was given money anyway because they could harvest the organs. I woke up feeling a little sick to my stomach.

I am a Duck fan. I was raised in Oregon and lived in Eugene and went to the games. I root for them now and I rooted for them then when they sucked. They lost on Saturday. I was bummed that they lost, but the only reason I’m upset isn’t them losing, or Stanford winning, but Notre Dame being number one. That’s fucked up. Fuck Notre Dame, and I will be rooting for USC for the first time ever and I don’t care who wins will do whatever to the BCS ranking because the BCS ranking makes as much sense as meth heads plan to build a helicopter out of parts he finds in a landfill.

Time to smoke and eat more cuties. After that I’ll make tea and read and hope I can sleep before 4.