Blue Saturday

7:30:2:30::coffeeshop:bar

high five

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFfOgtTEji4

Fin.

findeed.

bad and self-hateful hangover.

with reference to ongoing flirtation thread i may be not checking my "libido flattened by age and antidepressants" privilege.

maybe a less harsh and self-hating way of putting that would be "a kindly disposition" or "avuncular". Well, that's what I tell myself, but ugly old bassa is closer to the truth!

work smarter, not harder

that feeling when you're that bored that you end up clicking on ILM threads or Chapo Trap House just because

it's a very bad feeling

I recommend incognito view so ILX doesn't keep reminding you of your lapse.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=il6OKhd5iyM

Sure as fuck is a loooong Saturday this particular one, this fucker, this comedown. If it will ever come down at all. And if it will, down to what exactly? (i'm floating fyi)

Murmurs. Frost-bitten soul gnawed away at. Not terribly much left iirc. The bottles rolling over the floor when I accidentally kick them annoy me to no end; they get in the way of my feet when I try to get up from the sofa tryna find my way to the bedroom, the bed, unsuccessfully. I sure as hell didn't bring them bottles in aye? "Of course you didn't! Dem fucking drunks, fucking drunks bringn them in!"

Fucking drunks am I not right, fellows? More murmurs, more bullshit, all this bullshit, never-ending stream of bullshit. If I die tonight that's quite alright, just give me summat nice to listen to. Not a lot to ask tbh. Something sedative, something nice. Pretenders? Why yes aren't e all.. Oh the song yes, yes that will do, yessir ty. And I didn't get those bottles in here tbh, really didrn't wasn't me iirc but it's ok, mann this is a looongg saturday, this will do, quite nice chaps, ah yes that's nice

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7Hy7uAb_eU

scratch all that; just a long saturday. long.

deepest blue, lost boy blue, pub blue because what else blue?

that feeling when you're that bored that you end up clicking on ILM threads or Chapo Trap House just because

tfw when you realise you and ilx poster noodle vague are in fact the same person

Love you tiher

That was supposed to say tiger ffs

https://geekwisdom.files.wordpress.com/2011/12/mary-jane-watson.jpg

*shwoon*

drink this mess around

some days god throws you a mutual crush and some days she's married anyway

can really feel how peaceful and sleepy death could be today but i've made promises to people for the week ahead and i don't want to mess them around

godspeed

also as will have been known, people can always become de-married

i'm not even going there, i'm not about that any more, and to be honest it's only throwing an extra shade of blue into the long standing indigo, imago

anyway really sometimes it's just drinky friends isn't it and that's just okay

aye

anyway, as Catherine Wheel put it, Indigo Is Blue :) maybe have a nice invigorating 90s indie sesh

i am hammering the B-52s and Beaujolais tbh

at least the odds of me running into Cindy Wilson in the Haworth are slim

noodle will join you at the virtua bar but I have to wait for the world to turn about a quarter of its rotation, it’s still morning here

no worries bud when you're ready

tho there's an increasing probability i'll head out for the non-virtua bar when this wine runs out

Already at a real bar tbf. Not in Haworth, mind. They're playing Nerd and Timberlake but there's so many people at the bar already it's barely audible. At the very least, you're not alone. Godspeed NV <3

the Haworth is actually my fave pub in Hull, and just to make it weird they pronounce it Hay-worth

bonne chance LBI

Ah ffs, some grey matter slowly starting to bubble, indicating you've told me that once already.

Hay-worth like Rita? The place sounds more like How-arth iirc. No lovely Rita's there.

yeah the pronunciation difference is as you describe

i don't think i've ever met a Rita irl

PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUB

Same!

And same.

pretty sure I'm quite battered and at work tbh also I would v much like to drop dead thank you come again

aye

look when I said dead I was hoping for something more peaceful than panic-induced heart attack

I am divided 50-50 between wanting to keep borrowing money and drinkinf

and drinking it or stopping doing that and sinking into this settee forevs

it had already come to bits before y/day's bereavement, like i'd pre-cogged it without realizing.

just when i think i'm out i drag me back in again. the same mistakes, or new versions of the old mistakes. i keep trying to fix me so's to make nice with the world but the world is indifferent and won't ever try to meet me halfway. i try to show sad or frustrated or some version of "look i'm trying here" but i don't believe i'm trying and i don't know what i want except evaporation. indolence carried to the point where i just flake away like a parsee to mingle with the detritus filling the house. i think the indolence is much easier than trying to untangle the actual wishes and ideas and desires that still swoosh through my brain periodically.

the mistake was trying to get right one-sidedly without addressing what to do or how to live. i tell myself or other people tell me you have to fix the one thing first. you have to become functional and useful and then if you do that for long enough maybe you can work on digging your tunnel or maybe the world will give you a holiday for good behaviour. you have to earn your self-actualization and it's doled out in small chunks, if at all. evenings and weekends as they say. tho the evenings and weekends don't work because the chunks are too small and you have to be careful not to cross-contaminate work time. industrial space-time.

i'm trying very hard to stay sober this week because a) i don't think non-sobriety is helping and b) i have no better ideas to cling onto. mainly b. i don't like leaving the house unless i have to get food. i want to try to manage with less and less food but then my brain gets hungry and i start eating. i don't think my stomach is hungry at all. just the idea of food comes along and irritates. when the irritation weighs more than the need to stay inside i drag some clothes on and run to the nearest shop and back quick as i can. tho the shop takes too long because i just stare at aisles of things i don't want and i don't really know what i want - something effortless, something that needs as little preparation as possible.

i feel 70, whatever that feels like. i mean i feel like i'm retired, on the way out, no more skin in the game. sometimes i tell myself a drink will at least shake me out of this but i don't want to be out of it and see above. i'm in a great nothing that can't aspire to meditation. just distracted apathy, video games and a little reading. sick of the world without nausea. the language of tv adverts is the language of limbo, dream voices nagging and cajoling you to the worst kind of extinction: participation.

i type all this out to get a handle, to try to get a handle. to try to understand where i am. from outside: what's wrong. but here i'm not wrong i just am here, stuck, maybe a smidgeon bored or wishing i could get out of this still but that'll pass, again, and it'll be bedtime soon enough and i'll be up again tomorrow with the great weight pressing me into the bed, keeping me in here which might as well be everywhere.

dream voices nagging and cajoling you to the worst kind of extinction: participation

damn

that's a lovely and lyrical post nv. i hope writing it out has proven some form of consolation

thanks :/

i've got no idea what i'm doing

that is probably preferable to dull certainty

Hi NV

that hits pretty close to home tbh

there's a little-known phrase that i find really helpful in trying times, and i can't believe more people don't know about it

hold on lemme google it up for you and make sure i get it right, i think you're really gonna like it

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6f/Keep-calm-and-carry-on-scan.jpg

hope that helps buddy

well i'm calm and i don't half carry on so

:D