"Pork City" was something i swear i read on one of those signs with historical facts that you see scattered around parks or bike trails. this one was by a Tim Hortons drive-thru. i remember reading that is was an alternate name for my city, but according to the Internet, it's not true. i probably misread it, but it's a hilarious idea. it'll be my pen name for where i live from now on.
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i don't feel good about myself generally. i'm not as prone to freaking out it as i once was but i still am hard on myself. i never seem to change though, and that's on me. i can't bitch about it. it's completely all on me. there's nothing else for me to blame, at least with most of it. maybe i should still try to relax.
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you know that feeling you talk about? the one you brought up in "Pipelines"? i think i have a version of it. i think i've felt it since childhood. i have alluded to it in the past but i don't know how to really put it into words. i don't know what it is, sometimes i don't know if i want to know. it scares the absolute living shit out of me.
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i remember really liking The Orwells - Remember When in middle school. i still kind of like it because i have a little bit of nostalgia for it. it was kind of proto-punk for me even though i was already listening to actual punk when i was listening to it. i liked anything like that. i liked anything at that time, period. i think that's an attitude one should hold on to.
however, The Orwells were boring 2010s indie rock à la the post-punk revival (think FIDLAR). also, their entire band was lined up with sex abusers - or at least the members who weren't outed sex abusers were complicit in the sex abuse of the outed sex abusers by association - so you know, fuck them. Jay Reatard could have outwritten them any God damn day of the week.
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Joel Potrykus' Relaxer is great, but i'm not gonna go into why it is really (i haven't really unpacked it much at all). instead, this is going to be another vent. yippee!
i think i identify with the protagonist, Abbie, too much. he's almost more of an archetype than a character: he totally lacks any sort of skill or accomplishment, and completely rolls over for anyone. he is completely unassertive. in the beginning of the movie, he drinks his own piss mixed with milk - because his brother commands him to - until he pukes all over himself and never ever bothers to clean it up, because his brother commands him to not get up for reasons that are irrelevant to what i'm talking about right now. the point is of what i'm talking about is that i think i'm at least a little like Abbie. i don't like that at all but i don't know what i could even do about it. am i just doomed to suck or do i even really suck as much as i say i do? supposing on instinct there are ways out, where are they?
i'm sorry for being such an ass. i'm such an idiot.
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speaking of Pride, i don't know how cool it has been of me to refuse stating my sexuality to the point of going out of my way to denythat there's anything of out the ordinary, while still being extremely liberal with homophobic slurs even with people who aren't in the know that i can technically "reclaim" them. sounds like another excuse to just be a jackass, Skinterrain!
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i woke up one day and it was February. i woke up the next, or a few days from that - it doesn't matter - and it is June. it almost all feels wasted, like a lack of sleep. there's no getting it back now, whatever it was.
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there's a scene in Louie, the one Louis CK show, where this guy tells him that he is a "classic idiot" because he is heartbroken over this woman and that he doesn't want to be. the guy tells him that the longing and regret about love is "the good part", not the actual being in love. i think about that scene every time i complain that i have no idea what i'm doing in general. i can see that this could be the good part, even if it's awkward as shit, because this way, everything is on the table. there's nowhere to go but up because now - and only now - can i be about to do anything. i think the scene was a half-joke, but i'm counting on the half part of that joke to relax a little bit about it all.
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i really should leave the Internet for a bit. i should get a job first, but i have been dogging that for a month. i have been embarassingly lazy about it, but i guess at least i don't have a ton of incentive to do it, given the options are have free reign over your time and home or work for minimum wage. some money is better than no money though, right? i'm not gonna be moving out any time soon, but i have shit to do. i'm going to college in the fall. i got a life to live, i think.
anyway, back to what i was saying about the internet. when i was a kid, i had a really trial-by-fire approach to making friends. i wouldn't describe myself as a lonely or bullied kid, but there were periods of either/or like any other kid, i assume. i was a spazz like any other kid, i assume. i really wanted to fit in and be accepted but i was all over the place. juggling the two felt impossible some times. i remember there being a few times when i wanted to pack my whole personality in. there was always these groups of kids who usually older than me that i wanted to get with. these groups changed over the years, but they all shared a few things: they were aloof and designated the distinction of cool, which usually meant they were just assholes. i would know that, too, but still went for it against my gut feelings. i don't know why i did that. i still kind of do to this day. even though i've stopped being confrontational about it - i don'ttalk to these types at all - i still keep these characters in the back of my mind. in the post-apocalypse, these people have been updated from the playground kids who knew what porn is to weirdo niche internet people. to be honest, these people are like people in G----'s circle and stuff. not exactly P--- Z---, but people like him. i don't know why i pay them any mind at all. it's genuinely pathetic. i have perfectly great friends as it stands, why do i need my projected image of a right wing conspiracist i know of on Instagram calling me a faggot in my head for struggling to lift up a tire? it's probably for the same reasons i had that i was interested in Gavin McInnis even with him being a dirtbag fascist - i.e., that Gavin McInnis seems to be "strong" given his asshole-ness, while i'm insecure (but from people who personally know Gavin McInnis, he is the furthest thing from strong and put-together. dude cannot get in front of a camera without a drink in him. so maybe the lesson here is don't judge a book by the fucked up cover you give them.)
i fucking HATE that i have this ingrained instinct to appeal to people i cannot fucking stomach. i hate it so much. it's a death drive to me because it goes against everything i tell myself i believe in. it's a little self destructive, but to give myself a bit of a break, i don't think i act on it. i avoid these types. i'll talk endless shit about them, sure, but i think i have managed to keep them at a distance. i just hate that it's there. i hate that i feel like i'll fuck over my friends because of it. maybe i'm being too hard on myself again and i'm not this ticking timebomb of a two-timer just waiting to flake on everything i once loved for just a poot of clout. the bottom line regardless is that i just don't want to hurt anyone. i really don't want to fucking cause any harm to anyone, nobody who doesn't deserve it at least.
to put it simply, i think my daily bullshit intake has become deathly healthy with being on the Internet 24/7, and it's time to get the fuck off of it for a bit and regroup. but my biggest setback is you. i can afford to go offline from my other efriends, but you're a constant in my life. you're probably just as involved as M-- or J---. i still want that to be the case, but i think i'm overthinking the logistics.
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my pen name is Eric Chiccarelli. "Eric" is twice the syllables of my first name, and "Chiccarelli" is twice the syllables of my surname, since it my name for my double life.
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i want to write like David Berman.
