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Tuesday, May 24, 2005

The Soft Underbelly

Say goodbye to the old street
That never cared much for you anyway
The different-colored doorways
You thought would let you in one day
Goodbye to the old bus stop, frozen and waiting
The weekend edition has this town way overrated

It seems that I’m never happy. I know what the problem is, but I keep thinking that moving the hell outta here would cure all aches and pains. I always seem to wonder about what it would be like to live on the west coast or to live anywhere else.

I don’t hate where I live or where I grew up. It just feels like I’ve done what I can do and St. Paul seems very saturated at this moment. I would be lying if I said that I would like to find a job in Minnesota due to staying home. I actually wouldn’t mind leaving here for anything but the countryside (although even that seems to spark my interest slightly). I need to meet new people and experience different things. I need to refresh my life a bit.

I know what the problem is.

I can always depend on the weather to be unpredictable and the last couple years the only time I can be assured of happiness is spring and fall. Just the basic predictability of spring and fall drops a couple notches on the whole happiness scale.

I also think I’m drifting away from everyone: friends and family. It seems that I just can’t get along with my immediate family for longer than one hour and that the littlest communication shift is too much to bear. I think of my relatives and I get a headache in seconds. I think about old friends and I figure they’re dead because I don’t want to talk to them due to the contrived ‘catch-up’ conversation.

I know what the problem is.

I’ve never had even an acquaintance relationship with my brother due to the unique way I vented from years of misunderstanding and frustration of high school and earlier. Although the topic of suicide (and the fighting back from it) is the common ground that he doesn’t know about.

My Mom seems to be a card carrying member of the loner club. She never leaves the house and I can’t remember the last time she was truly happy. God, I wish she had a friend she could talk to. She’s probably hugged me enough times that I could count each one using both hands

My Dad uses work as a binky so he doesn’t find himself like Mom. He’s never told me about his dad because it’s a soft spot he doesn’t want to touch.

And my friends…
Here’s the first friend I’ve ever had who’s getting married next week and when asked if I want to attend his reception and wedding, I replied with a stern “NO” because I can’t stand weddings and their receptions.
What loyalty.
I’ll see my friends maybe twice a month due to my stupid hours.

All that and I got the fuckin runs too!

The problem is that I need a girlfriend. I need someone I love because of them and everything about them. I need someone that brings me to my full potential. Someone that will be the mushroom to turn me into Super Berg. Someone that will take all this gunked up potential and filter and control it accordingly.

I need someone that brightens up the darkest days and I can think about at work.

Someone to end this blog.

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