She Smells Like Baked Ham

Q: What do you call a son who does not call his mother for Mother’s Day?
A: A son of a bitch.

On Sodomizing My Parents

When I was eleven my mom left me with my father. And she never came back for me. When I was twenty my dad left me with my mother. And he never came back for me.

So it shouldn’t shame me that every so once in a while I feel unwanted: like a forgotten dried up sperm laying there on soiled linen. Sometimes I forget myself. My mother believes I should talk to my father. That he is getting old and he needs me. Like when I was young and I needed him. Fuck him. I hope he dies an ailing lonely bitter man. It’s good for him. It’s best I don’t even know he’s dead; the temptation to piss on his grave may prove irresistable. Mother pretends to love me, but where was that love when I was forced to sustain the worst years of my life? But I don’t blame her for anything. She was young and dumb. Now she’s just dumb. A fool. She thinks she loves me. But even worse she thinks that I love her. It’s all pretend. I neither love nor hate her. I simply don’t care.

Not Nao

Nao hasn’t called. I’m resisting the temptation of calling her.

I hate how these things work. Just one week ago it seemed like everything was great. We communicated so well. We hung out the whole weekend. I mean it seemed like it more more than just “friends”. I mean she had no problems letting me suck her breasts and finger her. Seems like more than friends to me. Yet just one week later she won’t even answer my calls. I just wish I understood.

This evening I took my first Lexapro (10mg). So now I’m jittery, dehydrated, and I have diarrhea. Oh, and my sex drive is all but gone. But other than that I feel great!

I’m old enough that I shouldn’t be feeling this way anymore. I mean I shouldn’t need to be with anyone anyway. Ten years on my own and you’d think I’d get used to it by now. But I have this thought in my head and it won’t go away: that I have everything I want but without that I have nothing. I’m looking outward for something I know I should be looking inward for. But when I look inside all I see is emptiness. Emptiness and a whole lot of nothing worth seeing.

Sometimes I really don’t enjoy being here. I don’t even know why I’m here. There are a few ups (like last weekend) but a whole lot more downs. I just feel weak and hopeless and I can’t seem to break free.

I talked to my mother earlier and told her I was thinking about going home for Thanksgiving, but on second thought… I think I’m just going to stay home (again). I’m just not in the holiday mood (again).