Smoke Damage (smokedamage) wrote,
Smoke Damage
smokedamage

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From the gates of hell (ie a Goth club)

being laid out flat for nearly two days has taken a lot out of me. I don't know that i miss home. i might be buying to that whole "i don't belong anywhere" kick that is always in the back of my head, but it's not that i miss it. There a lot that i don't understand about America. Why i am drinking rum would be the first question. This trip hasn't been what i had hoped it woud be. But by the same token i really didn't come here with a lot of hopes, like always i walked fairly hopeless. Which is merely a cute play on words for being without "hopes". Such as they are.

Goth clubs are just the same as they are back home. Same dress code, same kinds of people, same music, same politics, agendas, snobbery and elitism. It's a nice club though, apparently it used to be a jiggle joint of some sort and there are booths facing the large dancefloor, bars downstairs and upstairs, a nice balcony area, and a big stage and smaller ones for the old go-go dancers, which people still make use of to show off their stylings. I've never really understood the whole "watch me dance" attitude, as most people dance like retards (or bears like me), or machines, or strippers - which if it's a cute girl i really am not going to complain about, but i still don't get it. Anyway....

I really don't know what i am doing here. I mean, i liked my life, my home, my friends (even though they drive me up the wall sometimes). I still think i haven't let go of who i was. I haven't really taken advantage of the clean slate i have made for myself. And what that boils down to is that i really didn't want to change, i liked being me. I liked who i was. I am not so sure, in fact i am certain, i did not like what happened to me but i guess i brought a lot of that on by just being me, being what i am and that i clearly have no interest in changing.

I need to write down a decent to do list of what i what to do and where i want to go. I have no ticket home. I could call for money or just turn around and buy one home, but what would the point of that be? Is it just "pride fuckin' wit' ya" as Marcellus Wallace would put it? No. Committment. Heroism -

The characteristic of a genuine heroism is its persistency. All men have wandering impulses, fits and starts of generosity. But when you have resolved to be great, abide by yourself, and do not weakly try to reconcile yourself with the world. The heroic cannot be common, nor the common heroic
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

or is it me just being fucking stubborn? I will get my arse to the UK and go from there.

What i do miss are my friends; their problems, their lives, that i have always been there for. And that fucking girl. How did that happen? I was supposed to leave nothing behind, but i did. fuck.

I am just lost. And on my own, for all the love and support that people have given me, but i'm always feeling like that.

I think i need to do something productive, that will turn around these blues. So i will find something that needs doing.

I love all you guys back home, and it's you that i miss. An the warm weather.

They seems to take the sun from the heavens who take friendship from life - Cicero.
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