The thing I have learned to do in relationships is censor myself. That seems to be the thing to do. Don’t say what you mean. Don’t comment on what you see. Because if you do then you run the risk of running up against the lies that the other person tells themselves. And if you want to keep a successful relationship then the thing you probably need to do is always make sure that both of your lie-sacs are pretty much always full. Because otherwise everything will burst and we will all sink to the bottom of the ocean.
But fuck that. I mean, I am probably about to use that word a whole lot. And that’s fine. Here is a list of what I had to drink tonight.
First of all, I think it’s important we recognize this one thing. Cause this one thing doesn’t happen a lot. Or ever. You know that Candle Box song I posted? Far Behind, it’s called? It’s not that it’s a great song. It’s just that I heard it at lunch at the Rowdy Cowgirl. And that’s enough on it’s own, so I posted it to my website.
But then again later, at the Jolly Roger Taproom (Maritime) I thought I heard the song about to play again. But it was some other shit. Something not as good in that stupid way. And then we went to the Bit Saloon and it all changed. Maybe it was the gin & tonics, I don’t know. But somebody ACTUALLY put that Candle Box song on again at the bar. And I was just like, WTF? already. And that just so totally blasted it to the next level.
Nevermind I spent a whole dollar just to hear Rough Boy at this fucking bar, just so I could tap into that moment and think of you and us at the Dubliner. And I wrote this down in my notebook, I wrote: “Fuck you for making me a better drunk.”
And I mean that.
I didn’t used to have to spend this amount of money. And I used to mind it a lot more. But now I’m just like, “Money? Oh you mean these leaves. Yeah, I found them. You want some? I know where they grow in the forest. I’ll show you tomorrow. Here, let’s just get drunk until then.”
And now it’s like I can just go on. And that’s why I left. I don’t want my whole life to just be this drunken haze. Actually, it’s not the drunken or the haze I mind so much. It’s the self-pity I think I mind. And the irony that prevents you/us/I/me/it/were from dealing with it. Yeah, you feel this way? Me too. It sucks and it’s also awesome and yeah this 80’s rock video perfectly describes it but so does the look on your face when I touch you, and so does the sound of the words when I say, “I love you,” too.
It’s all the same shit.
And I mean that. The shit of life. The shit that makes an East Coast bar different from a West Coast bar and why that’s fucking important. We went to two pretty good almost I was thinking East Coast style bars tonight and they got me into the mood of being really drunk and dramatic. And I like that. It’s important. People forget that shit is okay out here. The whole point sometimes is the scene you put on. I was thinking about this the other day with smoking. I think people only smoke to look mysterious. Because the smoke allows them to sort of paint in the air while nobody is paying attention. It sets a mood. When people are stoned or drunk or on some substance or another usually all they are doing is giving themselves a solid chemical explanation as to why tomorrow when they look back on what happened they can say they did what they did because of the chemicals. They give us/them an excuse to act like the sorry assholes we really are.
And that’s the thing. I know you’re an asshole. I know what kind of awful person you are. And even if I never know the sad desperate details, I’ll always know the crushed way I felt in my soul when I first realized you were even willing to let me experience the smallest amount of that. How dare you? But maybe that was you feeling me out, trying to break me in easy. Trying to just be like, “Hell, you say you love me? Well how about this? How about this? Wham! I thought so. How you like me now?”
And whatever. Yeah, totally. Good game. I like it. Played it. Won, lost, same shit as anybody. Where now? I know you see it coming. That day on the drunk horizon where that shit wears off. Where the emperor has no clothes. Where everybody can see what’s what. You stave it off with more alcohol. More drugs. I try to hang. We both know what’s what. Life exists in the space between what you allow yourself to do while you’re intoxicated and what you don’t when your not. Slim range of experience for some. All important for all.
I explained to somebody what dry-hopping is tonight. I did a damn decent job of it. Even if you brewed without me. Even if you’ll bottle when I’m not there with my stuff hidden away in the rat shit pantry past like I never happened. I know you. I wrote this thing the other night when I was trashed in this notebook J. gave me before I left to put everything on the line for you. I wrote this, I wrote: “If I loved you less I would insult you more / accurately and ruthlessly / but I don’t want to see you suffer / more than a little bit.”
I said something on the busride home tonight about how you only love someone to the extent that you’re willing to hurt them.
I hope I am wrong about that. But in another way, I guess hope I am right.
I guess, the thing is, I just hope.
- END -
ASSOCIATED CONTENT @TMBCHR (Auto-Generated)
- The hops - hemp connection in beer
- Dinner
- And Another Thing…
- JAMMIN!
- Bear drinks 36 cans of beer and passes out
14 Comments
Fuck I wanted to post all these like videos and shit in this but I just got like so wrapped up in shit and well this was one of them I like these videos of like old people to these popular songs. Like they are all old and shit and they feel this way. That rules
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyUmoq-PBLI
i also wrote a really awesome drunk email to somebody just now that i think bears repeating even though ill be sober and sorry later: “yeah you know what? fuck. thats all. fuck. its all fucking stupid. people want shit to be stupid? then lets make it all stupid. lets make it totally fucking high school and totally lame and ridiculous. lets just fucking go for it. lets just hurt each other and be drunk and dumb and then act like we didnt mean it when we wake up tomorrow. im fucking tired of this shit… lets just pretend to be grownups for once without being all stupid and distant and ironic.”
i mean not that quoting tom petty lyrics and revealing scathing emails is particularly grown-up. but at least its honest. here’s how petty and pathetic i really am. you know what’s up. you know you love it. you know i took out all the meanest parts of this before posting this. i should have left them in because you would have respected me more. thats your problem not mine is what im saying.
Love this from under the “read similar articles” link:
http://www.timboucher.com/journal/2004...rinks-36-cans-of-beer-and-passes-out/
This post is funnier than you probably intended! My reaction is part schadenfreude, part recognition, and part disbelief. Is this the same Tim Boucher? For what mysterious reason is he dragging himself through the muck of late? What lesson is to be learned?
I think you’re wrong about love, in that last bit. Only because you’re calling it “love”. And, so that you’re not the only one out of character, I will quote from one of my favorite bands, King Crimson:
I do remember one thing.
It took hours and hours but..
By the time I was done with it,
I was so involved, I didnt know what to think.
I carried it around with me for days and days..
Playing little games
Like not looking at it for a whole day
And then.. looking at it.
To see if I still liked it.
I did.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat myself when under stress.
I repeat..
The more I look at it,
The more I like it.
I do think its good.
The fact is..
No matter how closely I study it,
No matter how I take it apart,
No matter how I break it down,
It remains consistant.
I wish you were here to see it.
I like it.
Fortunately for our hero, his head breaks his fall…
ok
1. help! everything you say reminds me of of one of my songs/poems!
fuj did you say “muck” ? who says muck? who says muck when i just posted a link to a song i wrote that says muck in it? [not to mention anoint... who says anoint?]
2. why do all of my comments get flagged as “awaiting moderation”? LOL
3. is it because I AM [like rage]
4. you’re not getting out of TOTO
5. I am off to go get rolfed. later dude [ just click it forward]
Hurray, I’ve been waiting for this to happen. It’s about time.
I don’t know what I intended but it felt great writing it and it felt hilariously weird to hear the robo voice read it back to me!
http://beeradvocate.com/beer/profile/609/35334
can’t resist posting this:
heart does battle of evermore
It’s only at the end of your rope that you can bounce back. That or hang, usually both.
http://www.learntarot.com/maj12.htm
I have also learned that you are only given as much as you can take. And the only way to increase what you are given, unfortunately, is to increase what you can take. And the only way to do that is by suffering through shit
Damn.. you are good!
I’m also an asshole.