Monday, February 27, 2006

Running From Reality

Have you ever come across someone you knew once upon a time, only to feel that once you've gotten past all of the trivial bullshit and past life Cliff Notes, the conversation was nothing more than pinchbeck?
Such was the case last night, upon leaving the second night of two sold out Social Distortion shows.
It seems that nearly every show I go to, there is this one individual who the wifey and I used to party with, there as well. He never says hello. Never tells me to fuck off. Never acknowledges me unless he is approached, and then - and only then - does his shit eating grin form, followed by the spewing of his "It's so nice to see you, wanna' hear about my band?" attitude.
I hate that shit!
I hate that shit!
I hate that shit!
I hate comparing lives for the sole purpose of measuring up against someone. What does it matter if I or you or he is a bumb a father a musician a garbage man or the Goddamn Governor? What does it matter if life is good or life is bad? Do you really think what you have to say wants to be heard anyway? Do you honestly think two shits are given about how your life has turned out - especially if it's a better life than one currently being lived? I think not.
When the "Oh my God! How are you?" question came about, I seriously thought about answering him with a smug "Borderline suicidal, thanks." That would have certainly change the pace of the conversation, wouldn't it? I mean, how in the fuck would you respond to something like that? Honestly? You wouldn't. You couldn't. It's just not possible. Especially after having allowed so much time to pass between you. Because now you're mere acquaintances. Hell, you're practically strangers. You can't act as if you truly care about something like that. It's not like I am on the "Let's keep in touch" list.
But Goddamn, it would be great to see and feel the reaction of something like that being said.
Don't get me wrong. We made small talk about tattoos, his new lady and my wifey, my kids and his step daughter, and how time has passed, and there was even an invite to go have drinks sometime, I just needed to contact him through his band website e-mail. (God forbid I be given a personal one.)
Unfortunately - more so for him than me - he has always been this way. He has always been into himself more than anyone else could ever be expected to be, and for this, it seems he has always had to overcompensate for his own shortcomings. So now that he's been in one fledgling, signed (and ultimately dropped and disbanded) band, and is now in another who, to the best of my knowledge is surfing upon the small crest of a nearly faded genre of music with the hope of sparking some notoriety, it appears that he has something to prove. To whom, exactly, I don't know.
Why does shit have to be this way? Why can't people just be people and not always feel they have to compare notes? For fuck sake, does it matter if someone is Bipolar or in a band or married or single or skinny or fat or drives an XTerra or a PT Cruiser or anything things else? It shouldn't, but in this case it does.
It always has.
That's a big part of why I've distanced myself from people I once knew, throughout the years. There's too much drama in managing relationships, too much cock comparing. There's enough infighting with myself at any given time. The last thing I need is to have someone pointing out all of the things I could have been, would have been, or should have been.
It's my own way or running from reality.

1 Comments:

Blogger the depressed nurse said...

That's why if I ever go back to the town I went to high school in, I will run and hide in a clothes rack before I will engage in that mindless, pointless, bullshit. It's also boring as fuck, and I not only do I refuse to be a dishonest fake and take part in such a facade, I sure as hell refuse to be BORING.

3:33 PM  

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