I wish I could photograph sound, and hear a memory and trap the wind and feel its remorse.
I love nights like tonight when the earth gets mad at us, flailing us around like straggling leaves on trees trembling in embarrassment at their naked displays.
The cold season blows you my way. I thought you would be done with that pig by now, feeding you drugs to make you stay, controlling your every fucking move and monitoring your correspondence. Makes me feel foolish for ever allowing you to talk to her. I took you for a man strong enough to make his own decisions.
It frustrates me to look at your picture and reach out to touch nothing.
I am sorry I told you I would do something that I ended up not doing. I feel terrible about letting you down and I would love to say “I wish I could make it up to you” but I don’t really care to because of the way you have reacted. I work 8 hours a day and I am sometimes exhausted at the end of the day, like today. Love the job, love being exhausted by it BUT I cannot be expected to go from working 8 hours, completely exhausted, walking the dogs, and then lugging equipment around, setting up, taking pictures, editing…..I can’t do all this today. I am simply tired. Way too tired to deal with the emotional stresses you are causing me.
You know me well enough to know it was nothing I was remotely excited about doing in the first place. You shouldve been able to tell by the tone of my voice when you called me on Monday, it was utterly dead. It was all a very uncomfortable situation for me from the get go and I found it inappropriate of you to want me in your world. I should have told you ‘no’ then, and I don’t appreciate you acting like you were doing ME a favor.
You told people I was talented..great, I thank you for that. BUT there was no talent to be had tonight…….because, I will say it again, I am fucking tired. You put me on a pedestal that I could not step onto. I didn’t put myself there, you did. You expected too much from me without considering me as a human being or what my life consists of in the least.
I am more concerned with disappointing myself than anyone. I disappointed myself by letting you down tonight but I did not foresee a stellar photographic situation that would have been worth dragging my ass out into the dark night of exhaustion.
I love how you hung up on me and then texted me, and then called me and then hung up and you complain that you end up in my blog. Sometimes this voice is all I have.
I don’t want to “air your dirty laundry” or slander your name, which always goes unmentioned by the way…….its my dirty laundry. Its not about you here.
I have noted that you think in my blog I should mention that you are sexually satisfying and that I said I love you. Actually what you said was “tell people I make you cum” or something like that, but I found that a bit crude to say... so I left it out.
Thought it was realistic to clean this apartment tonight at 9:45 until I opened the dishwasher and it was full of clean dishes. Fighting with my lack of cabinet space is one of my least favorite tasks here. Fighting the need to clean seems to be a popular past time. Every corner is littered with shreds of something the dogs have ripped up from empty beer boxes to photo albums they’ve pulled off of bookshelves. I’m tired. It’s not all the dogs’ fault, “Hurricane Becky” is also to blame. Make up in the bathroom sink, clothes and photo equipment strewn around the bedroom and living area, cans, papers, dishes, shoes….everything is in disarray, and I hate it but I don’t have the energy to clean it. I’m a little uninspired these days.
Im tired of being dragged around and tangled up by 2 dogs who do not appreciate the fact that I don’t particularly enjoy walking them twice a day in the freezing cold neither do I enjoy living in an apt building but I am here for them. I’m tired of coming home to the destruction. Every day something new is ruined, something I never even thought they’d get to or take interest in. I slip covered the couch to keep the cushion on, Busters favorite past time is taking cushions off of couches and eating them, I thought the cover would deter him. Every single day I come home and the cushion is on the floor, slip cover off the couch. I would say this is couch #4 they have ruined, and it wasn’t particularly nice to begin with, (gold velvety 70s couch that someone died on….a freebie) but it’s the only one we’re going to have for a while. I don’t understand how they haven’t eaten enough indigestible items to both be dead by now. I won’t say if I’m hoping for that or not.
I am sick of getting money orders to pay my rent and paying to cash my checks. I opened a bank account this past weekend but could not put money in the form of checks into it because they would’ve been “help up” for a few weeks due to the fact that my account is new. Soooooo, sat in the bank for over an hour with a very nice but seemingly very lonely woman who felt it necessary to explain the concept of a checking account and debit card to me, neither of which I can use until they arrive in however many weeks. I’d also like to add, she took a very special extra 10 minutes fumbling through brochures to show me the picture of the design SHE has on her checks, as if I would ever give a flying fuck.
I was so distracted on my trip to the store just now by the cashier vacuuming in lieu of waiting on me and her boyfriend’s eyes rolling back and forth in his head like a Mickey Mouse clock, that I totally forgot to get cigarettes. Bitch, I have worked at Nice N Easy, I’ve paaaaaaid my dues!!!!!!!!!!!! Customers first, vacuuming second, got it? I’m so fucking sick of BAAAAAADDDD customer service. Next time I go there I will wear my name tag. Yes I still have it from over 10 years ago. It says “Nice N Easy” right above “Becky” and theres a sticker on it that says “What a Guy”. A name tag like that demands respect!!!
I’m tired. I’m tired of having things to do that require me to do them during the hours that I work only, and no other time. I have a whole entire days worth of such tasks to be done, none of which can be achieved in a lunch break, not even one at a time each day and all of these things hang over my head and weigh on my mind.
I’m tired of being in between. I’m tired of being dicked around. I’m tired of being a product. I’m tired of expecting too much from myself and feeling like it’s never good enough, even when I achieve the ‘too much’ I expected.
Matthew Wilder is a hard cough drop to buy right now…..but I suck it relentlessly waiting for my symptoms to fade.
