i’m a people-addict.

i have to connect with everyone.

i really care about everything and i always have a story to tell that is somewhat relevant to what you are talking about and i will make it funny and after awhile you may get annoyed by my incessant-rambling and ADD so we take a break from each other and i spend my nites wandering around in the dark taking the same photographs until i bump into a familiar face and i smile at them and sometimes they don’t want to be smiled at

and then you will call me and i will say oh right now i am looking at a tree and there are all these crinkly leaves around and people are weirded-out by me ‘cos they are probably wondering why i am always there wearing flamboyant jackets

and you ask me if i am drunk and i say no, not yet, don’t interrupt i am telling you about a lamp post now and something someone said to me at lunch that day and a one-liner i remembered from a simpson’s episode a month ago and i ask you about your day and maybe we will rent a movie later on or meet up at a strip club and we’ll find my mittens and you say maybe you should wear a dress and i say, perhaps

and maybe i will show you videos of me dancing around an apartment to beastie boys wearing that russian hat that i wear and i tell you that there was one of me doing a cartwheel into a poker table but i erased it and you were amused and seem to be entertained by it, maybe addicted, like how i am addicted, people-addicted

and so there i am walking again because i don’t want to be alone in the house staring at the laundry i should be doing and the cat that is needy and the cigarettes that aren’t there for me to smoke so i go into town and watch color of money with the boys and think maybe i won’t drink today i have gotten this far so far but then we get a pitcher and i am playing the video games and eavesdropping on people’s football conversations

and i leave to go to another bar and i think all the way there i have no money absolutely no money i am just going in to say hi and then a bunch of entertaining depressing stuff happens because sunday is when the real-lonelies come out and adan walks in and i am all hey focker where are my mittens and conky sez you set him up the other nite and i am trying to talk to shawn about marketing and james is being drunk argumentative and pathetic and my fone is just not working i am waiting for it to ring so i can go watch ali g with you and then i am in trouble

shawn was asking why i was so tough and i said it was a defense-mechanism and i waved my arm around the room and said because these are the people i know, the only ones i know where i am living right now and they are all drunk or drinking and they are all male and it has been the case forever

so i have grown-accustom to it

and i told bryce we have an appointment this thursday and that i was nervous and excited about it because i wanted to come across as smart and he bought me a beer and i didn’t ask him to and i asked him how the smoking was coming along and he said great and i said great, thinking that he meant yes the quitting-smoking business and then he pulled out a pack of cigs and i clucked oh no and on and on and on.

some people may read this and shake their head and say their life is better, their party scene is less dark, happier, truthful, and the people in their circles are more real.

i call bullshit on that.

i love these people in this scene.

somebody’s got to.