Good Morning

2 Apr

I wake up not knowing where I am. The mirrors making the distances impossible. Light patterns from the blinds could be the jungle or anywhere. Not recognizing the lamps. Then it half occurs to me that I’m in the same apartment. 12 years. I have no children. It’s me alone here still. Everything is exactly the same. I’m 42 years old.

16 Responses to “Good Morning”

  1. Anonymous April 2, 2018 at 5:10 pm #

    my life in a nutshell. well except for the 42 part but soon enough.

  2. Anonymous April 2, 2018 at 7:57 pm #

    Quit your job? Change apartments? Leave LA? Take antidepressants? Lie to women about your age? Any combination of the above?

  3. Guest April 2, 2018 at 10:28 pm #

    Jerry: I had a very interesting lunch with George Costanza today.

    Kramer: Really?

    Jerry: We were talking about our lives and we both kind of realized we’re kids. We’re not men.

    Kramer: So, then you asked yourselves, “Isn’t there something more to life?”

    Jerry: Yes. We did.

    Kramer: Yeah, well, let me clue you in on something. There isn’t.

    Jerry: There isn’t?

    Kramer: Absolutely not. I mean, what are you thinking about, Jerry:? Marriage? Family?

    Jerry: Well…

    Kramer: They’re prisons. Man made prisons. You’re doing time. You get up in the morning. She’s there. You go to sleep at night. She’s there. It’s like you gotta ask permission to use the bathroom. Is it all right if I use the bathroom now?

    Jerry: Really?

    Kramer: Yeah, and you can forget about watching TV while you’re eating.

    Jerry: I can?

    Kramer: Oh, yeah. You know why? Because it’s dinner time. And you know what you do at dinner?

    Jerry: What?

    Kramer: You talk about your day. How was your day today? Did you have a good day today or a bad day today? Well, what kind of day was it? Well, I don’t know. How about you? How was your day?

    Jerry: Boy.

    Kramer: It’s sad, Jerry. It’s a sad state of affairs.

    Jerry: I’m glad we had this talk.

    Kramer: Oh, you have no idea.

  4. Anonymous April 3, 2018 at 5:16 am #

    Happy birthday, DT. I’m really enjoying the novel so far. It’s like watching a mind’s projection of the future detangle itself in real time. And there’s this sinister undercurrent of desire, of an almost desperate craving for a supermassive disaster to break the chains of monotony in modern living.

    These days it feels to me like all the men in the world, old and young, from tribe to tribe, are thirsting for another great conflict. Something to burn the underbrush. Even if it doesn’t bring balance, even if it only brings death, destruction, devastation, at least it will bring something different, and when the smoke clears, at least we’ll know where we stand.

  5. dickycone April 3, 2018 at 6:06 am #

    42 is young though for a ripped guy like you who lifts. Consider that Jeff Winger was clearly depicted as over 40 in Community and spent the show alternating between banging Britta and that tasty little 19-year-old Annie. And this was on a mainstream show in the US that Daily Show Democrats liked. Get out of the first world hell hole English-speaking countries and it’s even better. I managed to have my first kid at 45 with a Central American woman 14 years my junior, and you don’t even have thinning hair like me IIRC. You’re fine, still got plenty of time for a family if you want one. Just got to make it happen.

  6. Anony-fucking-mous April 3, 2018 at 8:44 am #

    If you have a kid this instant, you’ll be 60 before they turn 18.

    • dickycone April 3, 2018 at 5:58 pm #

      So? Put off seriously aging until you’re well into your seventies. Lift weights, don’t eat garbage, daily intermittent fasting. No alcohol or tobacco. I plan on surfing in Costa Rica when most of you are in rest homes.

  7. Small April 3, 2018 at 10:17 am #

    My cat cleans herself
    In my ex’s parents’ garage
    Life is horrible.

    A quick haiku from lower down the ladder. 🙂 Happy birthday – good to see you’re still around.

  8. BlogCommentsRUs April 4, 2018 at 2:25 am #

    The worst part of this whole post is you having actually posted it. That alone pretty much says it all about you and your endless whining.

    This coming from a rat faced loser in his early 40s, Got some jungle kids, vagabonding all over the planet, doing everything and everybody. Got bitches, got money, got whatever seems like it could be a good time. If your lame ass is sitting in the same shithole as you were ten years ago, it’s because you’re willing to take zero chances, living an actual interesting life, doing anything any more risky than signing a contract for some shitty car payments.

    Fortune favors the bold, m——-th–rfucker.

  9. The Empty Subject April 4, 2018 at 11:58 am #

    Happy Birthday, Mr. Tacos. Much has changed in the six years since I started reading you. I remember what you said in one of your pieces about how you get better at writing with time. I don’t respond well to most inspirational messages but that one struck me.

    Aside from motivation, I’m grateful for all those beautiful, dark, evocative phrases and images you’ve given us for nothing.

    • Jaded Jurist April 8, 2018 at 12:26 am #

      +1

  10. Kero April 15, 2018 at 3:44 pm #

    your comment section is a cancer and I’m part of it for not even remembering how I found your site but waking up late for my commute and seeing blackout drunk texts to a girl at work linking you saying “this is it,” like I was a prophet or meditating on the mountains when really I finished a half handle of knockoff fucking Fireball

    happy birthday, DT, your work is at least a signpost on the way to hell and I love it. anon commenters please reply with “kys faggot” so I feel validated

  11. ShanksNes April 18, 2018 at 9:41 pm #

    Children. The joy of life. Little packages of tissue, fluids, with a small bundle of half-functioning, half-formed neurons sitting atop over-sized heads. Peering at you with big martian like eyes, like a junkie who dropped acid a few hours ago. A reminder of your mistake – a mistake that you made one drunken night, with another drunk woman after both of you drunk some pinot noir, and made sweet love with bitter tips of tongue. And realized the next morning that you hated her. And she realized the next morning that sex was good.

    Who cares if people have children. There are already seven billion morons on this planet: Two billion of them have an average penis the size of “not so impressive” inches. Imagine that – two billion of them and they still can’t make it to the other side of the pussy. Instead they get college degrees in computer science, get a quasi-respectable paycheck and create more of their own little clones. Cause you know – children: they look at you and they pee on you #cute.

    At least a dog won’t ask you to pay for college.

  12. Bill Wilson and Dr Bob and the Old-Timers April 21, 2018 at 1:34 pm #

    You need to start going to more meetings, rookie. I don’t see any sign in you from your writing of the spiritual awakening in Step 12.

    That’s probably because you haven’t done the steps right. My guess is that you haven’t really done Step 2. You haven’t turned your life over to your higher power, probably because you don’t believe in a higher power who can save you from your disease, you whiny, shitty ingrate.

  13. Anonymous April 22, 2018 at 1:11 am #

    The incessant whinging of an LA fag

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