July 27, 2003

Tonight's update is a "I feel guilty for not writing" one. I don't know exactly why I should feel guilty. I never promised that I was going to be prompt, but still I feel like I've been coasting here. I did a bit of semi-significant writing at Etherea the other night, but it wasn't very coherent. I sat down on Thursday night and drew a map by hand from blues to inks in a couple hours for the first time in a long while. I've gotten so used to using my Wacom pen that it felt strange, that didn't feel very good.

I've been watching a lot of Smallville that suddenly found it's way into my reach mysteriously. It's a pretty good show, but really hard to watch when the local WB station insists on not showing any shows from the network 90% of the time. Hopefully it will eventually begin to be syndicated so I have a better opportunity to watch it without resorting to begging people to let me watch it at their houses or hoping that they fall onto my harddrive.

I organized my bookmarks for the first time in a year or so in a serious way too, and double-checked the links. It took way longer than I expected, since I've inherited bookmarks and links for years from one program and computer to the other. I'm even one of those anal-retentive guys who used to write down links because they crashed the whole computer from time to time and lost everything. About the only thing I don't seem to be able to recall are the screennames I used to use in Hawaii so that I could promote myself and maybe get back in touch with my friend Tonya and her sister Myla again. I think I found Tonya working for some law offices in Sydney, but I'm unsure and there definitely is no email address to query. I think she got married as well, but I'm not sure if it was to the boyfriend Ben that she doted on or if maybe she'd found some new rope to swing on afterwards. There's also the possibility that I did something awful to her before I suddenly never heard from her again, there are so many people that seemed to be intensely close to me and then vanished without my clearly understanding or remembering what happened that it's always a worry.

It doesn't help that when I can remember incidents and reasons, they're none too happy or reasonable. I'm not friends with Charlie because I don't find it charming to have to work to be friends with someone who seems to have no larger ambition than drinking his life away. I stopped talking to my friend Kat because it was an awful mistake to have sex with her because she immediately seemed to transfer her larger concerns about men in general upon me instead of just treating it for what it was. My best friend from high school stole tons of my things and high-tailed it to Tallahassee because I had 'stole' the girl that he was never dating in the first place nor even called his manly dibs on. Other people just disappeared for all I can recall, it worries me.

When I was drinking I wasn't an 'all the time' drunk really. I drank an awful lot, but I wasn't one of those people who drank every day of the week. I just drank a lot because I was in a coma of sorts for years, dumbfounded by the screwy turns my life had done. I've heard about people having blackouts and memory loss from drinking, but I'm fairly certain sometimes that I've a memory on the tip of my tongue and that there wasn't any drinking involved at all in fact. That's scary, that's like an episode or I've got a mental block. I realize that I'm a fairly powerful repressive influence on myself, but that powerful? Sometimes I try to convince myself that it isn't my fault, that maybe someone else just disappeared suddenly from the radar. But all of those people, over and over? It's hard to believe. Sometimes I even let my mind wander into the fiction that maybe I've done something to all of them and forgot about it. That nagging feeling in the back of my skull, the ghosts of my victims coming back to haunt me? What do you think? Think I might look good in a muzzle while being interrogated by Jodie Foster? Regret, it's what's for dinner.


Post a Comment

<< Home