![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aruanis what i'm doing any more righteous than him, swimming like a fishy in his puerto rican rum? my method just amounts to teasing myself with what i can't have, real or scripted. mental masturbation versus voluntary sacrifice of a few already obviously unnecessary brain cells, as they seem to have nothing better to do than dwell on the sodding state of affairs. at least he's not lying to himself. and that stuff i said about keeping in mind that there will be a mirror tomorrow morning that we'll both have to face was a rather poignant little moment in the dregs that we dragged our conversation through... maybe i do what i do to myself because i want a reason not to be able to look into the mirror, to avoid having to see the disappointment already there.
he said he wants to feel. well, chugging depressants, as he himself noted alcohol is, doesn't seem to be a logical mode of achieving his ends. then again, these are troubled times we live in, and maybe he doesn't consciously know that, but at least realizes that fabricated emotion (or absorbing yourself in others', it's all the same) could justifiably be even more destructive, as after each fix one needs more and with more intensity to get them higher, to the point where reality is nothing but a big disappointment... good thing i've never had the will nor the opportunity to become a chemical junkie, i think.
'at least have fun' was my parting sentiment. not that he will. nor am i, for that matter. none of what either one of us will do tonight will serve to scratch the itches of these two "fed up, frustrated people with no particular motivation."
if you know a way to scratch my itch, i'll even sing for it.
he said he wants to feel. well, chugging depressants, as he himself noted alcohol is, doesn't seem to be a logical mode of achieving his ends. then again, these are troubled times we live in, and maybe he doesn't consciously know that, but at least realizes that fabricated emotion (or absorbing yourself in others', it's all the same) could justifiably be even more destructive, as after each fix one needs more and with more intensity to get them higher, to the point where reality is nothing but a big disappointment... good thing i've never had the will nor the opportunity to become a chemical junkie, i think.
'at least have fun' was my parting sentiment. not that he will. nor am i, for that matter. none of what either one of us will do tonight will serve to scratch the itches of these two "fed up, frustrated people with no particular motivation."
if you know a way to scratch my itch, i'll even sing for it.
