Giving In
All my feelings pile up
Like all the things I forget to do
Lying here in bed, the ceiling fan
Keeps spinning round
As I remember you
I miss you so, I hope somehow
You hear all of these words I’m writing
I’d take it all back, if I just could
I truly would, believe me
Please, don’t blame yourself
It’s not your fault, you did
Your best, and it was good
Enough for me, and good enough for us
Lying here in bed, just staring up
As the fan’s blades keep turning
Round and round, the past is in the past
It just keeps spinning like a rolling stone
It gathers no more moss, and soon this loss
Will start to heal or something
Do I even know (Well, no, I don’t)
But I have to have faith
Yet I’ve no tears to shed
While on the inside I am weeping
I doomscroll in my bed
Instead of resting, can’t stand sleeping
It all goes to my head
My feelings up my spine, they’re creeping
A sudden flash of dread
And from my soul my blood is seeping
Turning in my bed
Can’t stand the fan, can’t bear
The constant motions
I need to clear my head
And need to clear the clouds in my emotions
Not sure what I want
Or what I need, or what I even deserve
I just lie here and rot
And hope you hear my tears gently falling
Loss and longing aside, last night I went to two birthday parties. The second party was loosely themed, with all of us supposed to dress like old people for a laugh. This was easy for me, since my entire wardrobe is vaguely retro, and I threw on my ochre leisure suit with the double-breasted jacket. Since I had that suit tailored when I was almost a hundred pounds heavier than I am now, it’s fairly baggy; baggy’s fashionable again, however, and it really is quite comfortable. The first party was for Evan, and Joe was hosting at his apartment about a block from me, so it made sense to visit that one first. I brought a bottle of wine, as required by Xenia. I tried a drinking game called “Vodka Bucket.” The rules are simple: you fill a bucket or tray with ice, vodka, and a mixer, and all parties take straws and drink from the bucket at the same time. If you stop drinking, you’re out, and the last man standing wins. My Lithuanian peasant ancestors toiling under the yoke of the Russian Empire were smiling on me from Heaven above, because I won. I was fairly tipsy for around an hour or two afterwards, but it was Absolutly worth it. I mostly just socialized with people, but I did get some cool video game recs. After singing Evan a happy birthday, it was around 10, and I took an Uber over to Jess’s party.
Jess’s party had a less… college atmosphere? Which makes sense: Jess was turning 34, so it was more sedate, which was good and allowed me to process the Dionysian amounts of vodka in my system. I didn’t drink at Jess’s party, save for some ginger ale. I helped Scooter with a crossword puzzle, which was fun because I know a lot of random crap. We also discussed Theory™ and Literature™, like the Intellectuals™ we are. Specifically in relation to Kermit Roosevelt’s “The Nation That Never Was“, among other things. I have more to say, certainly about that book’s thesis, but the fact that they had to pour more vodka in the tray during Vodka Bucket is a sign that maybe I overindulged, and I feel like a car with a full tank of gasoline, and not in a good way. I plan to make a proper fish and chips for dinner tonight, so I’m excited about it.
Sierpinski Tetrahedron 