Another night interrupted, another hideously early morning. I had been sleeping better than ever, but the pain killers probably had something to do with that. Now I’m back to my normal, fitful self. I’m stressed out because my body is still healing from the trauma of surgery, and on top of that I’m in the process of breaking up with my girlfriend. The great experiment of moving to the capital and living with a romantic partner is coming to an end. We were doomed, we had nothing going for us. You take an episode of infidelity right before the move, you add living in the most expensive, stressful, work obsessed city in the US, two people with no experience living with significant other’s, both low energy, depressive, anxious types, and you get domestic discord. It had become consistent and impossible to fix. The constant tension, the outbursts over nothing, the mind numbing nightly dosage of weed and Seinfeld; I felt myself choking, my vision waning, and the little life I had draining away.
I wanted to try something different. This was too much. Maybe if I had a better job, more lucrative prospects. Maybe if she hadn’t cheated. Maybe if I weren’t just, at bottom, an aloof creature, incapable of sustaining profound love for another person. When things don’t work out with a particular person, they always say that it’s just not the right time, and that they weren’t the right one. Possibly. But I’ve looked deep within myself, and at the world, and I seriously doubt my own ability to care for someone else enough to commit to them for the rest of my life. Does this make me a bad person, a defective, a degenerate?I just got a new dick, and I can’t use it yet, but at 29 years old, I want to be able to enjoy it without the hassles of commitment for at least a few years. Am I past the age where such freedom is charming? Am I fast approaching the age where wanton bachelorhood becomes sad? Surely I can’t be there yet.
I have limited options right now for housing. I think I need to move out of this apartment, but I can hardly afford to keep living in D.C. Without a car, I’d need to live in a decent part of the city, in a hip and accessible quadrant, and the apartments there are so expensive that only saudi oil lords could afford it. I have one lead on a room in a shared house that I could just barely afford, with grit and strenuous exertion. I would have to eat beans and rice, do pushups and sit-ups, and sleep and fuck on a wad of towels. All the amenities of life would be gone. A bare prison cell of a room, threadbare clothing, and tin can dining. My superfluous macbook worth more than my life. At least I could get laid. That I do know. That may be worth it, sad as it may sound. Plus I don’t want to go back to my homeland, and I want to be close to my surgeon in case there are any complications. I can’t keep living with my girlfriend, soon to be ex, but remaining here will be incredibly difficult.
It is times like these that having a little more financial leverage would be helpful. I’m just a dirty barista though, and my coffee preparing skills aren’t worth much. Nor should they be. I am very ignorant about economics, and that’s probably one of the reasons why I’m poor. I wasted years of my youth studying marxism, for christ’s sake. Spent countless hours straining my brain to understand abstruse explanations for why a few people get rich on the backs of everyone else. It is an all encompassing, paranoid delusional system of thought that enslaves and brutalizes humanity as it promises freedom. You know, your standard religious fare. The point has been made countless times. Actually, it’s quite a bit worse than many religions; christianity at least has a legacy of beauty and greatness in art, philosophy, and literature. Handel and Bach, Dante, Augustine and Aquinas, the Scholastics, to name a few. Not to mention the influence on architecture. What is Marxist art and literature? Ugliness, resentment, theoretical effrontery, utterly soul destroying. Why do people make the choice to waste their time with indigestible theories on a corrupt economic system, when they could be improving themselves and becoming more attractive and productive human beings?