Monday, December 7, 2009

***** Dreamin': Volume Oblivion

Soundtrack to this post: Rise by Disturbed
Alternative Soundtrack to this post: Mickey Avalon's What do you say

Long in is the conclusion to the previously posted parts of the trip formerly known as ******.

I woke up to the usual morning on the final day of my trip. The wind was warm outside as my buddy smoked a cigarette in his backyard. I looked into the soft, blue sky and marveled at all that it contained. A long, long, long day lay in store. A pub crawl for a birthday that began @ roughly 2pm. Another party late into the night. And something else that I knew was coming, like the proverbial sword of Damocles. Something colossal and wordless.

I headed into my day and tried not to think about the absurd amount of alcohol I'd be consuming starting so early in the day. Mayhap, part of me wished for a blackout that would come early on a wave of mercy and fitfulness, nullifying and incapacitating the dark passenger until it proved time to embark upon my journey back home.
"Home". There's a 4 letter word. A word I fear. A word that has been ambiguous to me for ages in the hourglass of time and sand falling and flying through the fingers at breakneck pace. Home for many days has proven only insomuch as where I lay my head at the end of a long day pressing my own personal tolerance for pain and/or abasement.

Such a thing was not to be. Such an escape was not forthcoming. I somehow knew this. I put it out of mind and had ******* for lunch based on the recommendation of another whom I met through the blog.

Headed back to the pad to rest up before the early afternoon pub crawl. Arrived @ roughly 330pm....just in time for the beginning of the end. Started off with a shot and a beer in dubious and mocking fashion...mocking the dark passenger, mocking my own self-control....mocking the Sin Gods and taunting them...daring them to do their best. My best hope was to provoke their ire to awaken in some alleyway in several hours time, having missed out on all the extra-curriculars. En route, I'd sent out a text message. Proposing a rendezvous for 3 people. It was tacitly accepted.

Segued to the next bar where another shot and a beer followed. The married couples and engaged ones still appeared happy. Drunkenness had not given voice to the straining against settling, against boredom, against resentment for having bought into the societal lie that marriage would end the "cosmic loneliness" as Hurston put it in the mouth of Janie Crawford.
Terrible service, considering the bar was empty minus us and some drunk, elderly statesman, @ 415pm in the afternoon. The horizon grew orange and red in hue and promised carnage for the internal wasteland. I could only assume that my previous **** & booze consumption for 2 nights had built up a considerable tolerance and would make consciousness a prolonged and tiresome affair. I waited for the warm onset of abstained. I was enraged. I accepted the predictability of all that lay in store for me on this night. I already knew that hours would pass before a discernible buzz would arrive, that I would have to talk to people I would never see again and honestly care not for, that I would grow tired of acting normal and acting like I gave a fuck, that I would grow tired of talking and socializing and everything else that proves part of the tired, trite, meaningless human condition.

I was right. I have grown fucking tired of how right I can be so often.

A girl gripped my jaw and marveled at my facial structure. She said she wished I was taller as she was an amazon. Her eyes roved over my jawline and into my cold **** eyes from which the vacuum stared back wordless and full of acceptance of what was forthcoming like an avalanche. My eyes thought of fucking her bent over in the nearby bathroom stall with a fistful of hair and her moans in my ear. I thought of slapping her considerable ass and filling her in convincing fashion.

We segued to some other bar where I had some PBR. The taste took the edge of a burgeoning revulsion to alcohol, chatted about the UFC event that was set for later in the night. A topic which I actually didn't mind discussing yet proved tiresome on this evening. Headed to another bar I'd been at the night before but genuinely liked. It is a bar that were I resident of the area would frequent often and regularly. The red lighting, reminding me of another similar bar which I often frequented in days of old here in my current town. Some guys talked about the recession, about the housing market, about work, about football, about whatever fucking else people who don't know one another do to establish lines of communication. I chatted with my booze and the bottle in front of me. I paused and considered the neon lights, and the track lighting of the bar, a sexy waitress with a sleeve tattoo and hair extensions. I pondered the wake of birds in my past. Individuals on different planes, at different speeds, passing in the night and such bullshit.

Began flirting with a girl in the entourage. We kissed on the lips. I noted the beginning calamitous negative comments of the wedded couples: straining against the settling, the boredom, the societal lie of marriage as solution to whatever ails individuals and keeps them awake on the quiet nights not numbed by booze, illicit controlled substances or pharmaceuticals or casual sex. The hurt female emotions, the irritated male emotions, intertwining in some equally comic and cosmic joke wherein two innately different creatures are 'supposed' to make it work permanently until their physical shells expire. I could have laughed if the joke was anything other than completely true. I was not amused. I was nonplused. I was not enthused.

I gave way to the darkness of the night and had another beer, then another shot and a beer for the road. Headed into the night.

Posted up at a bar where the service sucked. Walked next door to a different bar. Began chatting up a mid 30's woman in mixed Spanish/English. She had the cultured sexiness that ONLY an older woman can exude. I had been to the part of Mexico from whence she came. We chatted, and she ran her finger down my jaw line then tugged on my collar. Another older woman laid her hand on my shoulder and asked if I was alone. She introduced me to a younger friend. I sat on a soft couch whilst some band played music I could not hear for the white static noise of blackout level drunkenness in my brain made soft by my concentration on maintaining degrading motor skills.

I left without so much as a word but not before flirting with another dark-haired girl at the bar with needlessly excessive mascara. I stumbled back to the other bar to grab my buddy, rather, he was waiting for me outside. It was time to leave and meet the 3rd member of the group for what lay in store.

She arrived whilst my buddy had gone to the store for booze and condoms.
We talked. I felt awkward. Not sure if this showed or not. My buddy came back. The air of what was coming hung overhead, I headed back to the room to lay down. I put on my favorite band. They both came back. ***** and her got started. I stared blankly and when instructed took off my shirt. Her eyes roved over my chest. There was no turning back. My buddy was ***** her then I did for a time. He left, returned, she rode me and he positioned himself behind her. We swapped places.
Fade to black.

I woke up, showered, and headed to the airport.

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