Can't sleep

Fact: Gigolos get lonely too.

My father was a very damaged man. But amongst that wreckage was a stunning work ethic that despite a 4th grade education allowed him to provide quite nicely for his family (however much he may have resented said family).

As such, I'm not very good with downtime. One of dad's favorite little tricks was to burst into my room early in the morning while I was still sleeping to scream at me about some stupid shit. Needless to say, it scared the shit out of me. He was like a fucking Nazi, yelling in his stupid southern accent and bad grammar and I'm all startled and wondering if the house is on fire or something terrible has happened. But no. It was something completely banal, like "Where the fuck is the fucking hubcap on the rear driver side of the car?! Where did you go? What did you do? ARE YOU ON DRUGS?!?!?"

Well father of mine, I wasn't on drugs then, but I am now, fucker. And they're pretty much the only thing that keep me from just driving off a cliff or pulling a DJ AM and seeing how many Oxycontins it takes to reach nirvana (i.e. sweet cloak of death). Well, drugs and porn.


So waking up without a stupid job where I'm overworked and undervalued is actually a bad thing in my life. If I'm not doing 100 things at once (and generating a steady income while doing them) I feel like the worthless bum that "ain't never gonna be shit," as the old man liked to constantly remind me.

At the same time, I've done a fantastic job of alienating myself from the people around me. No matter how hard I try, even my closest friends are a good arm's length away. And it fucking sucks.

I woke up this morning well before dawn. My street can be so quiet before the start of rush hour. I smoke the remnants of last night's joint and turn to you. But you're not there. You eventually left me, too. You're just too young, vital and well-adjusted for the likes of me. Which is especially fucked up, considering that you're quite parentally-damaged like myself. Just not nearly as much.

But...at least I realize it. I'm making strides. You seemed to have a good time at the show on Wednesday night. Even though I could feel the distance you maintained between us, no matter what I did. You let me put my arm around you, but I felt you stiffen against it, ever so slightly.

But I persisted. I smiled and laughed and clapped and paid attention and everything. All of the things you used to say you'd wish I'd do. I got a little teary at towards the end. It was a sad song, and it only emphasized how far away you are from me now. Like, so gone.

So I drove you home. I told you I love you and that I miss you. You said you loved me too. You kissed my cheek and gave me a really tight hug. I asked you out to dinner this weekend, and you said yes.

The next day, I got your email saying dinner would have to be postponed indefinitely. You're just really busy with work, and all of your side gigs. Working hard and making money, you know how it goes.

Oh yes. I know how it goes.