Thursday, July 01, 2010

I need a vampire girl friend (revamped)

You'd think by now I'd be fed up with how things are. How my life sucks, how I hate my job, and how I am all alone in the world.  But for some reason no matter how much shit I throw at myself I never reach the point where I say, "enoughs enough!"  I am a bottomless pit.  Throw all my regrets down the well and you'll never hear them hit the ground.

Not that I'd ask your advice, but I bet you'd say that if I want a girl friend I need to quit being so needy.  One way to quit being needy is to follow through on my plans more.  Two weeks a go I made a plan to get my haircut.  I finally got my hair cut yesterday.  Sure, it took me a few weeks more than I thought it would, but a hair cut is about all the accomplishment I can handle in a week.

Given that I have gotten something accomplished this week I think I will overlook the phone call I got from the ex internet g/f.  She asked me if I ever went to the doctor to get a check up.   I told her no.  Then she asked if I had a death wish and I told her, "Nobody wants to live to 60 anyways."

I should have gone to the doctor, because I am dealing with a cold.   I am having trouble swallowing.  It's really kind of annoying. On top of not swallowing properly, I keep waking up in the middle of the night.  I jerk out of some fitful sleep unable to catch my breath.  I don't know if my throat is closing up again (because I am drinking soda), or if the cold is making my throat shut down, but either way I wake up gasping for air and then settle down for a nice long panic attack.

Panic attack subdued I finally fall asleep around 9am.  Then I wake up around noon and lie in bed panting like 14 year old Labrador Retriever.  I stare into the fan until my eyes bleed.  I shift back and forth on the bed uncomfortably looking for a position that keeps me from sweating, but I am also looking for a position that does not force me to inhale the full gale force of the wind machine.

It's a tough balance to  seek.  But my tossing and turning fails and mostly I just end up with a dry throat, coughing,  and blowing my nose into tissues which seems to only further dry my sinuses out.

Another thing is I seem to be peeing a lot.  Just tiny amounts though.  I am forced to get out of bed every 20 minutes or so.  I assume my prostate is fucked.  I can't believe that 39 years of age can be reached and the body can really fall apart like this.

I know what some of you are thinking, "Maybe this is all in your head."  Maybe.  But if so, I am so far down the delusion of hypochondria that I can no longer tell what is real.

Rather than got to a doctor I am self medicating.  I have not masturbated in 5 days.  I am hopeful that not spending my energy masturbating will enable me to power through this cold, or at least the closing of my throat.  But if I die in the middle of the night know that my last moments were panicked moments  full of sheer terror.  My biggest fear is suffocating to death.

If I am going to die tonight I hope I shit out my prostate before I suffocate- that way I can die in my sleep.  My insides having evacuated themselves during sleep my unconscious brain would never turn on to let me know I was dead.  I could then join the undead instead of  date them.

Hold on a sec.  Got to go pee.

I sit on the toilet when I pee.  Otherwise, I am afraid that the pathetic dribble of my stream will fall onto the carpeted floor of my bathroom.  Who has carpeted bathrooms?  I do.  That is how fucked my life is.  How uncontrollably wrong every aspect of my life is.  It's another thing keeping me from getting a girl friend.  Have you ever dated a man with carpeted bathrooms? I doubt it, but if you did I know you never respected him.

I have a pool of blood sitting on top of my toe nail.  I wish you were a vampire.  That way you could wake up every morning and I could sustain you with a nice little before breakfast moment of bloody toe sucking.  You could suck on my toes and would overlook how deformed I am becoming.  I have let the toe nail thing go to long and I think I will need some kind of plastic surgery to right myself.

I can't be seen in public by a woman anymore.  I think that's why I don't go on dates anymore.  Imagine me trying to explain that I have had an infected ingrown toe nail for almost 1 and 1/2 years.  Imagine explaining to your non-vampire girl friend that you have health insurance, but that you are too confused by the promotional literature to pick out a doctor.

Non-vampire girl friend would not understand how worried I am about my 300 dollar deductible.  I am sure that a non-vampire girl friend would be unable to reconcile my concern when faced by counter factual  evidence like my internet searches for cell phones and upgradable memory sticks for my desk top computer.

She would also question my use of ecstasy tonight which will cost me 25 dollars.  I am sure a vampire girl friend would not.  Vampires live in a sort of vague hedonism from what I have learned.  Also, since they self heal a vampire girl friend would never find the wisdom in saving money for health reasons.

"I can't die."  My vampire girl friend would tell me.  Then she would go on about how I can't live forever without being turned and that since I was in "such bad shape" she'd never consider the idea of "being tied down to such a blob for eternity."  Then she'd say that I might as well forget about all that stuff because I will be dead in the blink of lifetime for her.

I would massage her back and she'd suck on my toe and then later that night we'd get some dinner at Denny's and she'd lament how they never get the liver "raw enough" and nibble hungrily on some of the dead meat of my toe all the way back to my apartment where we'd watch something sappy on TV, because vampire girls love the same tv shows they loved before they got turned.  And at some point my new vampire girl friend would want me to talk about her decision to cut off her hair and bleach it blond.

"I know it's nothing like what most normal vampires do."  She'd say.  "But I love it!"  She'd exclaim.

Her hair does look nice.

"It's all about change and how you adapt to it."  I'd offer up eagerly.

And we'd probably fumble around a bit in the dark and then my penis would get soft too soon for her and she'd ask to suck on my toe again and I'd be like, "Yeah, whatever."

3 comments:

belovedparrot said...

Sweetie, if you think your body falls apart at 39, just wait till you hit 50!

Steph said...

I actually laughed. not just semi-smirked.

Romius T. said...

Oh shit the body collapse gets worse?

And I am glad I got steph to smile and not just smirk,,,it's been a while.