The Dude Abides

‘Cause I don’t even know myself.  Hello, welcome back.  A long time away, even though only four days have passed.  The opening is again a song by The Who, but it eccentuates every fucking thing I’m feeling right now.  If you’re interested, and I know you are, you will keep reading.  If you stop now, you are an idiot, because this is going to be a fucking awesome post, as per usual.  Here we go.

I have dwelled upon this revelation for about three days, looking for the perfect time to put these thoughts down.  Now, at 1 AM my time zone it seems to kick in.  I am divided into three different people.  Not, voices in your head people, but three distinct personalities.  It’s really quite amazing how I pull it off, if you think about it.  Managing all of those and keeping the idea of sanity still somewhat together, man I really am pretty fucking good, as if you didn’t already know.  Anyways, here they are, my three me’s, and the traits of all of them.

First up is the everyday Dude.  Normal, according to my standards.  This is the person everybody sees in person.  I am lazy, quick witted, mildy funny, and lookin sexy.  When you encounter me anywhere in person, you’ll get this guy, because that is the person that is called for.  How shitty would it be to people meeting me if I came of as a down, depressed, smart ass prick?  Exactly.  Normally speaking, I am just a regular guy with better than normal taste in things.  However, that is just one-third of the equation.

There’s the blogging me.  This me has been plenty of different things, no doubt about that.  A general outline, though, has emerged.  Angry, judgmental, witty, prickish, call out your bullshit type of guy who is still lookin sexy.  In other words, it is here where I am brutally honest on any and every subject I write about.  Don’t think I was telling the truth about something?  Check here,  I’ll let you know.  It’s here where I sit on my chair and tell the world how it should be run, but make no attempts to change anything.  It is here where I tell everybody how bad I feel, but I make no attempts to change.  This is the place to tell my life story, no matter how bad and sappy it is.  And I write that I feel better, because that is what everybody wants to hear.  That is what everybody wants to see.  Nobody wants to see anyone keep up with the same pitiful fucking routine day in and day out, week after week.  I play the role on here, because that is what is called for.

And then there is me when I am alone.  There is me with my thoughts, my mind spinning, and lookin sexy even then.  I relished these moments once.  I loved solitude and my ability to think.  Now, it is all the same gut-wrenching shit.  I begin to think, and the same scenario always comes to mind.  That stupid fucking day, that stupid fucking phone call, my stupid fucking self for falling in love, my stupid fucking heart breaking…end phone call.  I think day in and day out about just what the fuck I’ve done to lose somebody so important to me that quick.  I love her so much, and yet, it matters no longer.  How and where did I fuck up so badly?  What did I say that pushed it over the edge?  Why couldn’t I see this coming?  Why?

I think about the things I’d give up just to have her back.  Just fucking name it, and I’d probably do it.  Travel across the world, hmm?  Is that it?  Is that all that is fucking required?  Hmm?  That isn’t fair to say, but fairness has neither really applied to me, nor anybody else.  I think about the many times I have prayed and prayed and prayed, and still I can not conceive of any other route I could have taken, or any route I could possibly take now.  I begin to question if love really has a point, or if it is just a cruel fuck that enjoys messing with people.  I sit, and I think.  My thoughts consume me, and this somehow keeps me from realizing, for a bit, that I am alone.  I fall asleep with my thoughts, and they turn into dreams.  I dream of her every night, and every morning I awake with a tear-soaked pillow, and I hate it.  It has almost been a month, and still she is always on my mind.  Nothing has changed, even though I said it has.  I still hurt the same as before.  As much as I want that to be a lie, I can’t help it.  It does not matter where I am, conscious or not, I can’t escape this feeling.  This is my private thinking, me with my thoughts and nobody else, in a nutshell.  And now they are yours, and part of my second self.  Funny how that works.

Yes, I do believe that I run on three different wavelengths.  It’s a hell of a ride, and I don’t particularly enjoy one-third of it.  Which third is the real me?  Tough to say.  All of them, and none of them.  But, it’s how I operate, and will continue to do so until further notice.  I will write, you will read, and you will love it, because I said you will.  Now, can you see the real me?  I’m not sure if I can, but what I can see, I fucking love.  You didn’t think I could hate myself, did you?

That will do it for me this early morning.  I will, someday, get back on my normal routine of ranting at idiots.  Until then, you can blow me, because you know you wanna.  That does it for me.  Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S. I still love you.