Nothing Goes Right

Originally Posted Tuesday, January 8, 2013

I'm as tired as you are of hearing my whining, but fuck.  Nothing goes wrong, but nothing goes right.  It is just this constant low-grade humming of impending doom that drives me mad.  I go to work late and leave early thinking myself a hero, but I worry all the time about the consequences while simultaneously slapping myself on the back.  I make dangerous images in the studio and worry that things will go wrong while all the time telling myself I am a genius.  Tonight, a pretty and eager model came to shoot.  She didn't tell me her fiance was coming, too, until she was about to arrive.  When we shot, she was nervous about what he would think.  He was an eighteen year old with dreads.  I kicked them out of the studio.  I told them it was me.  My problem.  They said they'd each driven an hour to get there.  I told them I waited an hour on their sorry asses to show up.  There was a time when I would shoot what a model wanted, but no more.  I can shoot for her as long as she can shoot for me.  I wasn't mean.  I just told them it wasn't going to work.  It felt good, really.  Really.  Until she started texting me.

But I don't think enough about my job at the factory and so it seems to be getting away from me.  I am not as good at it as I once was.  And I want to do it less.  Not that I want to do anything more, really.  I just don't wish to do anything.  I am tired of people, tired of trying.  I could simply walk around all day just to see what would happen.  Much would, I know.  The world is amazing.  Sounds like a trite statement, but I find it thus when I can. 

I find I'm alternately angry and beat.  I will go to bed now and try to close my eyes.  It is difficult.  We shall see.