mute inglorious motowns

[substitute]

My friends and I are neurotic in mostly the same way. We're all terrible egotists with big problems. Therefore we proclaim things to each other, tell each other our stories, cut each other off to achieve the aforementioned, give unwanted advice to each other, and resent advice and story-telling and egotism and interruption in each other. We go to a coffeehouse and ingest caffeine and enhance our ADHD related neurologic problems and talk over each other, louder and louder.

My own reaction to this is self-loathing. I go home still buzzing from the caffeine and conversation and then replay it all and hate myself. Telling repetitive stories like a drunk old man, interrupting, barking at people for interrupting me, giving unsolicited opinions on others' lives, ignoring or fighting their opinions of mine.

Excuse me, I have to brush a bug off my chest.

To add to this, socializing always gets tangled up with my problems with sex, so that I'm constantly meeting or seeing or talking to someone I'm attracted to but have no confidence to approach even if it's somehow possible. I'm so much older than everyone I meet that I feel both predatory and pathetic even thinking about it, and the friends I could reasonably have interest in are all attached anyway. Strangers I just ogle like the other disasters on the patio. It's Guilt Without Sex, redux.

There is now another bug on my leg. I don't like summer so much, what with the bugs.

In sum I need to socialize and hate it. And inevitably I end up feeling spent and dead inside, and angry at everyone, and angry at myself, and then I go home and stare at the ceiling and think: Jesus Christ. I'm almost forty and I'm still thirteen. This has sucked for a really, really long time.

And then I slide into sleep and dream of travel-related anxieties.

Comments

[autodidactic.livejournal.com]

Sweetie, look. Here's some unsolicited opinion of my own: you, at least, have the remarkable and attractive insight that can only come from being 40 years old. One!

Two? If you're not convinced of your nonugliness, you can always do the following:

1. Go to a flamingly homosexual aesthetician and say "Help me, I don't want to die alone," and they'll work a miracle.

2. Watch a bunch of daytime talk shows, or drive through certain neighborhoods. Even they can get laid. Weirdly enough, they get laid more than anyone.

3. Go to a hypnotherapist and have them slowly convince you that you're not desperate at all... I know for a fact that my own desperation drives people away.

4. Know, deep down in your heart of hearts, that getting laid (and sometimes even being loved) won't fix it.

And with that in mind, I will shut up and just remind you that you are a good thing, okay?

Have a good one,
A.

[bruisedhips.livejournal.com]

yet we all keep coming back.

and
we need to have dinner while I'm here next week.

Set and settling and lighting

[torgo-x.livejournal.com]

In New York City, this would all be considired normal, and/or a writers' meeting. But in LA, everyone has to be "on message" and everything's a table read.

(BTW, the other night I dreamed of time-travel-related anxieties.)

Re: Set and settling and lighting

[frobisher.livejournal.com]

Leave us alone, dammit. We're still getting over the repubicans.

if you joined our table you wouldn't feel self hate

[anariel.livejournal.com]

over on our side of the patio. there is nothing but interuptions, bitch fests and conferences on the state of the world. always done in the most comical way, its insane fun.
p.s. never feel guilty thinking someone is attractive, that's a compliment. just be weary of hitting on people, they scare easy.