TL;DR

How are you? I’m fine, how are you?

 

Knock knock.

“C’mon in!”

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey Son. How ya been? What’s been going on?”

Well Dad, where do I start? I get up and go to a job that is like pretty much every other job, it’s a job. It’s not great, it’s not horrible, it’s okay. They pay better than most, but they did decide to install camera’s in the trucks to monitor the guys better. I’m not thrilled with that. I’ve been down that road before.

I’m exhausted most of the time, I’m tense, and I don’t feel like I get enough sleep. I would cry but there are no tears to come out. I’m dried out that way.

I’ve been drinking more than usual, and more often. I’m medicating my way into/out of a funk.

I don’t feel like I can write enough, podcast enough (even though I know you have no real idea what that is) and yet when I sit down to write, there are more times than not that I’ve got nothing and I think, fuck it, why bother. Thank god for automation and the fact that I have a lot of stuff in the queue. Well, at least I did. But we are getting to the bottom of that well Dad, and I don’t know if there’s anymore water down there to drink.

I vascillate between wanting to do a whole bunch of shit and not do a fucking thing but sit and stare at the walls.

I feel like an outsider with my friends sometimes. I feel like I’m an imposter. Most of the things that they enjoy and find joy in, I could care less about. I don’t have a problem with them liking the things they do, it’s just those things, for me, meh.

I use humor in all sorts of ways to take the edge off. I try and find humor in the ludicrous world that we live in. The alternative is to take it too seriously, and I don’t want to go there. I’ll either laugh my ass off or tear at my face and scream and cry my eyes out, except the tears won’t come. So for the most part Dad, I’ve decided to just enjoy the decline.

I’ve always wanted to be an entertainer of sorts, Dad. Have I ever told you that? Do you remember when I was a teen and played guitar? Do you remember when I was in theater? Even now, I tend to get too serious on my videos, my blog, and even my podcasts, but dammit Dad, I have to find the humor in it all. I don’t need to be an entertainer in the way that you might imagine Dad. I just like to make people laugh and point out the absurd.

You know Dad, when I was younger, there were times when I was too serious? I remember many times, the women I was with, they would say that I was ‘too intense.’ That seriousness and intensity scared them sometimes. Sometimes it scared the pants right back on them.

But other times Dad, other times, I could laugh them all the way to the bedroom. I could laugh the pants right off of them. I could laugh and joke and tease them right into an orgasm. I could laugh right along with them into my own orgasm too. Ever done that Dad? Laughed and joked yourself into cumming? It’s pretty damn good Dad. You should try it if you haven’t.

Humor is underrated Dad. I know you know this. I know that I got my sense of humor from you. The dry wit. The occasional sarcasm. The over-the-top slapstick. And yes, even the gross humor. It’s all from you. I know this and can say this because Mom was never funny. Oh sure, she knew a few jokes, but she was never actually funny. Funny shit happened to her and around her, but she wasn’t actually funny. So yeah, I got it from you. Thanks for that Dad.

And some days Dad, some days, the only thing that keeps me from eating a bullet is the thought of who will take care of my cats when I’m gone? How long will it be before I’m noticed as missing and someone decides to do a welfare check, and welp, there he is. No wonder he didn’t show up for work. But did the cats have to dine on my corpse before that day would come? That’s what stops me Dad, the fact that I don’t want my cats to starve to death or die of thirst. So there’s that.

Other than that…

“I’m fine Dad. Not a whole lot going on. How are you? What have you been up to lately?”

 

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