I didn’t feel much like going out but I did anyway. Most of the night I just had awkward conversations with people. Crashing from small-talk-platitude to small-talk-platitude. I am working too much to have anything interesting to say. But then eventually I was having sex with a Danish college student on a ledge in a graveyard. I came home at 5.00 drunk and bragged about it to my housemates. I had to do it twice because the first time they were chattering and didn’t hear me. So I repeated myself. The British and Irish guys thought it was cool. But the French girl who lives with us was legitimately worried about ghosts.
I woke up really late and ate two hamburgers. After that I did some burpees and ran 6 miles. My shirt weighed a few pounds by the time I finished. I got back to my house all sweaty and filthy like I’d just survived a battle. The British and Irish guys were there with some girls and everyone was getting high. No one seemed very impressed that I had just run so far. The girls in town all fuck them, these British and Irish guys, because they’re funnier than I am. The girls only fuck me if they haven’t met one of these dudes first. This really bothers me, and makes me insecure.
I joined Instagram, and I’m disappointed I waited so long. I’m pretty good at it. I write long, sly, self-aware captions. Most people on IG post boring trash. Straight-down photos of dinner, or across-the-table photos of their friends eating dinner. This makes me happy to see because I know I can beat them. I’m different. I am new to the game but I already know I’m going to be the king. Just online. I’m not cool enough to be the king IRL.
Some people say social media is bad spend more time in reality. Hey man if reality was that great we wouldn’t have invented smartphones. Social media is a great thing. We’re slaves with jobs we hate. We need a nice distraction, a few hundred times a day.
And also people forget we are still in the earliest stages of social media. 15 years from now when we’ve mind-melded ourselves with AI completely, the days of carrying a glowing rectangle around will be quaint. 2018 Instagram is some quaint shit. We are still in the past.
I went over to the South African girl’s house for some textbook Netflix & Chill. I made a mistake by picking Thor: Ragnarok, a movie I actually wanted to see. It was really good. But sexual activity occurred halfway through and she broke the laptop screen as she shut it and we couldn’t finish the movie after. So now I’ve only seen half of Ragnarok. I didn’t get to see the climax. I would get Netflix myself and finish it but the movie isn’t actually on Netflix. She torrented it. I don’t know how to torrent. I always get a virus when I try to torrent.
Vietnamese holiday so there was no work. Some festival for some dead king. I wrote a book about Vietnam where I had to explain what this holiday was about, but I have since forgotten. I don’t tell anyone I meet that I’m a legitimately published author. I want them to find out only if they Google me.
The girl and her roommate were up and doing stuff at like 8.00 am. Girls always get up early and start doing stuff. I pretended I didn’t hear anything and kept sleeping until 10, even though as a 30 year-old man that’s kind of weird. Weird to be a fully-grown adult and lay about in someone else’s residence like a teenager. But I work hard, and also work out hard, and all of it exhausts me on a psychic level. So I don’t care. I’ll keep sleeping.
We saw Avengers. Thanos had a good point, about overpopulation. As a primary school teacher I have an extremely disapproving view of reproduction and the concept of children in general. I liked the ending, a lot. Cap should have been in the movie more.
I felt good. I was sober all week because I still felt sick and was still popping cold meds. Hadn’t done recreational drugs in a little while either. Now don’t take the previous sentence as one of the main reasons I felt good. I am a big pro-drug advocate so I’m looking forward to dabbling in illicit substances again. You gotta have a treat every so often.
But anyway, I felt good and clean and strong. And I wasted this positive energy at my stupid job. Then I went to the gym after work which is probably unnecessary, but if I don’t keep the nightclub muscles pumped up I’ll never get graveyard sex again. Later after the gym I drank a bit and ate a full pizza.
This morning I had to grade a lot of essays by Vietnamese university students. Every sentence had like eight things wrong with it. It was like mental crossfit.
Then I had to edit song lyrics for a music video our channel is making. They were translated from Korean and then into Vietnamese and then into English. (Which means they made as much sense as the Bible haha BOOM!) I had to edit them so that they made grammatical sense, then jam each line into a certain amount of syllables, all the while preserving the original, flowery intent of the songwriter. This was not easy. This was mental interval training. Or mental jiu-jitsu. It was some bullshit, is what it was.
I went to my other teaching job afterward and administered two hundred speaking tests to Vietnamese third graders.
You: How old are you?
Third Grader: Fine thank you.
You: No, how OLD are you?
Third Grader: Fine…?
This, two hundred times in a row. It will begin to break you. I should be thankful my jobs are so poisonous. They’re forcing me to do what I like.
I have this Saturday and Sunday off. More Vietnamese holidays I don’t remember the details about. I think I’m ready to make some stuff happen. I’m too good at writing to keep doing this stupid shit. I’m too interesting and funny. I’m entitled to do what I’m good at. You gotta know your value.
However I’ve seen the future, and I’ll go out this weekend and then be right back here again next Friday. The vortex keeps me where I’m at. I made a similar declaration last week and the graveyard sex made me too complacent to make moves.