All the things I used to be. in The grotesque metamorphosis of a Bi-Polar human into a Tri-polar monster.

“Let me in, I’m cold…all messed up with nowhere to go…you’ve got indecision, and indecision is my enemy…unlock the cabinet, I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

I can’t stop listening to the album “Gentlemen” by The Afghan Wigs.

I seriously can’t stop…it keeps taking me back to this place in time, somewhere in my early twenties…a time I can’t remember completely or clearly.
I used to be this sex beast, all hopped up on drugs and alcohol and pheromones.
I used to be able to seduce, somehow, in this drunken slobbering state of self medication that turned into self harm.

This album makes me think of that time.

I used to be “elegantly disheveled” .

I used to be a lot of things, actually.

I was talking to my mom tonight about that, actually, and she’s proud of “how far I’ve come.”
And she’s not wrong…I have come “far”, I mean, if you want to measure things in distance.
I used to be…something evil.
Decidedly evil.
I reveled in it.
I was like a pig in shit.
I used to call myself “a Super Villain”.
I loved that shit.
I used to hurt people without flinching.
I used to hurt myself like it was masturbation.
I lived in pain.

Today I was talking to a co-worker about strippers for some reason, and I mentioned that I used to be the drug dealer in a strip club, I just hung out in the strip club all night and the bouncers would point out of towners in my direction.
She was like, “You’d be the perfect drug dealer because no one would suspect you.”
And I laughed.
I was like, “You’re absolutely right!”
If I was a drug dealer right now, I would be the perfect drug dealer because no one would suspect me…because I’ve come a long way.

When I was actually a drug dealer…I wasn’t acting.

Sometimes my mind flashes back to my ex fiance.
Sometimes the memories are nice and sugar coated and I miss her.
Sometimes the memories are of the two of us, smoking home-made crack off of sheets of tin foil in an unfinished basement in the dead of winter.

We really should have gotten married…I mean, if you’re smoking crack with someone and almost freezing to death, it pretty much means you’re killing it and perfect for eachother.

Too bad our baby died.

Too bad.

Too bad…

two bad.

…

I always want to come on here and write something deep and meaningful, something that will reach out and touch someone so it feels like I’m not so alone all the time.
But I don’t know how often that happens.

I hate how alone I feel all the time.
I have a lot of friends and family, and I know they all care about me, but I still can’t shake this little feeling that I’m doing everything solo, like…there’s this invisible wall between me and everyone else.

I don’t even really talk to people anymore, I mostly just listen.
It’s easier anymore.
I feel like nothing I say even matters to anyone…it feels like most people are just waiting for their turn to talk, which just blows my mind because when I’m with people I can’t ever think of anything to talk about…not like I could get a word in anyway, but even if I had the opportunity it’s just like, what the fuck am I going to talk about?

I know that the things that are important to me aren’t important to other people.

My mom pretty much nailed it tonight.
She told me that I’m in a very small percentage of the populace.
Not only am I a genius…like…as far as IQ is concerned, but I have had some very strange and powerful experiences with inter-dimensional beings.
I have seen things that most humans don’t even believe in.
I have experienced things that aren’t supposed to be real.
How the fuck am I supposed to talk about your new hand-bag?
How am I supposed to care about this bullshit construct that we call a society?
Am I supposed to take these temporary things seriously when I have knowledge of infinity?

And yeah…I know what an asshole I sound like right now.
I get it.
This is why I don’t talk anymore.
I just listen.
It’s easier to listen…and it’s always interesting.
You hear the things that other people think are important, and it gives you insight into the animals that they are.

…

Anyway…
I guess I’ve said enough for tonight.
I feel like I haven’t really said anything at all, really.

Sometimes, all I want is to just be hugged and cuddled and told everything will be okay.
And, because I always ask for too much, I want it be said and I want them to mean it.

Can I tell you a secret?
Yeah, I know I can, because we’re friends, right?

I don’t think I’m ever going to find romantic love.
I don’t think that it’s in my cards for this life.
I think I’ve had enough chances for it, and I’ve squandered them all…
…I mean…I did the best I could.
And I failed.

And now?
Now it’s too late.
I am a monster.

Truly.

I know I am.

It hurts though.
It hurts my heart and my soul.

Maybe sometimes I just want my mom.
And maybe sometimes I wish I was a little kid again and my mom was better at being a mom.

That’s not fair though, is it?
It’s not fair to her.
I love my mom so much…
…but even she wishes she never had children.

It’s a weird thing to hear your mom tell you that she wished she never had children while she was high out of her mind.

I’ve had a weird life, haven’t I?
I mean…compared to most, not compared to all.
It’s just been a weird ride, hasn’t it?
I like the word “weird”.
It’s a better adjective than some I could use.

I’m okay with it.
I’m okay with who I am and where I’ve been and the things that I have done.
I think.

I mean…I really think so.

I have to be okay.
What other choice do I have?

…anyway.

…thanks for listening.
It means a lot to me that you do.
I love you.

-Dane