Truly Pathetic Dope Fiends

Maybe there’s a certain amount of hypocrisy involved in walking into this room, and the first three people I see totally repulse me, so I turn on heel and walk out. Feeling triumphant about having avoided wasting 30 minutes of inane social banter trying to hack myself out of a situation wherein interactions with a variety of people I have disdain for put a distinct hamper on my activities that evening. In a rather successful attempt to distance myself from people I genuinely detest spending time with, I have graduated to a realm of, “Not finding myself snorting drugs with unattractive, unintelligent people just for the sake of our mutual descent into self destruction.” Because the commonality that I found in the pervasive cultural self loathing that fueled the eye sparkle parties of blow and bright lights and girls in tight neon has somehow become less a commonality and more a formality I find myself more and more feigning just for the sake of fitting in. They wear their problems like a badge of honor that somehow earns them a meager amount of respect, but what once was supposed to be youthful indifference has mutated into the caustic inability to emote on a recognizably human level. But who wants to fit in with these truly pathetic dope fiends anyways?

I like waking up not feeling like I hate the world. Or that the world hates me back, too, as all desperate text messages get erased in a frenzy at 11am the next morning. I’ve come to the realization that 5am is something that I *never* enjoy seeing, not in any way. Not anywhere. Perhaps this is my much anticipated [2nd, or is it 3rd?] retirement from the local party scene. My efforts to dissolve that acrid 3am taste from the back of my throat because I have danced the pain away, but somehow everything hurts so much more now.

I’m not approximating normalcy, that’s for sure, and neither are any of you. It’s just that the party carnage of Oakland Gutteratti is getting kinda hard for me to look at, so maybe when everybody cleans up a little bit there will be something slightly more inspirational to say.

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How are we supposed to grow up when we live in the Never, Never Land of Partying? I guess we don’t, but as a 9 year veteran of the ephemeral party scene out here in the Town, I’ll let you know that very few people make it.