I stood and stared at the toaster this morning thinking it would be less painful if I just went ahead and stuck my damn hand in it. Slow motion waiting for my toast, you know that moving through life in a fucking daze slow motion shit? Yeah that. My toast took 30 minutes in my mind and in that 30 minutes I contemplated very rationally the eventuality of pain that is sure to ensue if I keep on the way I’m going.
Just fucking grab a knife and make it quick…and then it occurred to me, is the electric current the same in a camper? I’m so fucking stupid I don’t know, it would be just my luck I’d probably only loose my hair or an eye ball. Cant have that, I would then have to explain how I lost said hair and eye ball. Contemplating death over sprouted wheat toast at 6am.
Remind me again why I am sober? Yeah, you don’t have a good reason. No one does. At this point it’s been a year in the bigger picture of my life this is more like a test phase to see if it’s going to work out, dating for sobriety. (please someone quote me on that) if we break up. So far, all emotional bullshit aside it has some cons. Maybe thats just the sober talking.
Back to the toaster dilemma. Me, lonely me. I want nothing more in this world than to be swept off my feet for five minutes. Really. I need some passion in my life and Im sure if I wasn’t so damn fucked up it wouldn’t be hard to find. I’m emotionally unavailable, completely, though I don’t want to be. So that comes off as insane. How do you say to someone lets just fuck, I don’t want to be close, but really I do, but I don’t know how cuz Ive spent my entire life building a fortress around my heart. So that’s me….
Yeah just stick the knife in the fucking toaster.
I joke but it’s brutal. Probably one of the only actual fears I have in life is that I will die and no one will have ever known me. I will have wasted this hurricane of passion swirling around in me. I used to have a “marriage” as a consolation prize…and I’ve done all these amazing things, conquered all my fears, my vices, in all this growth this is where I’m at. I have to find someway to trust another human, with me, with everything, and I think it’s going to hurt a lot. The idea literally makes me shake.
No one wants this fucked up toaster shit. No one wants this lets go to Iraq I need to understand people shit. No one wants to know why I flinch when I hear loud voices, no one wants to deal with prying shit out of my fortress, or the endless searching I do off on my own at weird hours. No one wants someone that’s not there. I wanna be there but I really don’t know how.
Whatever, I can always take the toaster over the house and plug it in there, to be sure.