I’m on my phone too much these days.
You need to build an ability to just be yourself and not be doing something. That’s what the phones are taking away, is the ability to just sit there. That’s being a person. Because underneath everything in your life there is that thing, that empty—forever empty. That knowledge that it’s all for nothing and that you’re alone. It’s down there.
And sometimes when things clear away, you’re not watching anything, you’re in your car, and you start going, ‘oh no, here it comes. That I’m alone.’ It’s starts to visit on you. Just this sadness. Life is tremendously sad, just by being in it…
That’s why we text and drive. I look around, pretty much 100 percent of the people driving are texting. And they’re killing, everybody’s murdering each other with their cars. But people are willing to risk taking a life and ruining their own because they don’t want to be alone for a second because it’s so hard.
And I go, ‘oh, I’m getting sad, gotta get the phone and write “hi” to like 50 people’…then I said, ‘you know what, don’t. Just be sad. Just let the sadness, stand in the way of it, and let it hit you like a truck.’
And I let it come, and I just started to feel ‘oh my God,’and I pulled over and I just cried like a bitch. I cried so much. And it was beautiful. Sadness is poetic. You’re lucky to live sad moments.
And then I had happy feelings. Because when you let yourself feel sad, your body has antibodies, it has happiness that comes rushing in to meet the sadness. So I was grateful to feel sad, and then I met it with true, profound happiness. It was such a trip.
The thing is, because we don’t want that first bit of sad, we push it away with a little phone or a jack-off or the food. You never feel completely sad or completely happy, you just feel kinda satisfied with your product, and then you die. So that’s why I don’t want to get a phone for my kids.
— Louis C.K on why he hates smartphones (via et-l)
I’ll be waiting for the day. the day I meet you and feel so secure. the moment I know I found you. I want this certain kind of love. not that infatuation or lust kind of love. or the love that comes from settling. or the love you think you found because everything is logically and financially correct. I want that obsessed love. like Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder kind of love. Ida and Isador’s kind of love. that kind where you would die for each other, and never want to be apart because everything will shatter, type of love. That scary emotional train wreck is what I long for. I just want to feel that. I havent felt that since I was 16.
3 years. that’s how long its been since our lips touched. since our hands held. since my legs were wrapped around your waste. And though we’re in the future now, not much has changed. You still live in that trash of a home. except things are very different. you pine daily. You’ve had multiple girlfriends and possibly alot more experience with sex. also now, I’m more intimidated by you. it’s unbelievable I find myself in your bed again. right where i left it. blue sheets and all. as if your room was frozen in time. nostalgia hits me in the face like a silent bullet.
Over the years I’ve been hurt by a few, including yourself. I was always second choice. but then again, not being completely each other’s “possession” helped play a role in not being completely hurt. never fully made it to the boyfriend girlfriend role. therefore never questioning each others whereabouts. Just kind of floating in this in between place together. maybe this is why i dont hate you.
Now I find myself here, just where i was three years ago. Your face more defined. your height, slightly taller. even your speech has improved and the way your heart knows exactly what it wants. not manipulated by beauty. Even though we’re both not looking for anything serious, and having sex often for fun, there’s still these tiny things i tally mark in my head. and i know its stupid but how is it possible to keep “casually” seeing someone and not even flinching at the possibility that it could be a little more than just what has been presented?
You’re like the smell of ramen noodles in the morning. like a movie i watch when im feeling out of place. that favorite pillow I keep between the curves of my knees when im alone at night. or like waking up to rain. I’m not saying your a thing. I’m not saying anything demeaning or anything. I’m saying you’re that familiar soul in my life that i just find comfort in. the way you listen and kiss me when im sad. how you can read my mind just from a look on my face. the way we fit in each others arms. and how holding hands isnt weird.
I know we’re just casually dating, but why do you trick my heart like this? maybe im just naive. maybe im just lonely. I just hate being a second choice to everyone. frankly i give up.
I was intoxicated with blue hawaiians, cranberry vodkas, and cherry vodka sours amongst other shots. I hadn’t drank that much in about a year. you took me back to the hotel. I didn’t remember much after that. but now it’s slowly starting to swirl back into my head. we got to the hotel room 636. we sat at the edge of the bed and my head was tilting to one side from being so drunk. You let me puff your cigarette though i’d never had one before. i coughed and couldn’t believe it. and i could feel you staring at my lips so i kissed you. with a bit of a bite. you rolled me on top of you onto the freshly done bed. and you put your hand in my underwear and felt it clean shaven and made some seedy remark about how you loved that i kept it clean. I smirked and got up thinking that was it. you followed me into the restroom and when i turned at the doorway i saw you standing there. and inch away from my face. you pushed me agains the door frame and stuck your thumb in my mouth and i tried not to bite too hard. you picked me up and put me on top of the sink. trying not to fall. I spread my legs and let you do what you wanted with me. I dont remember much, to be honest. you left to take a smoke as i passed out on the bed, and woke me up when you returned. you weren’t done with me. my innards were becoming sore from all the touching. all i remember is that you liked to pull my hair and put your thumbs in my mouth as you continued to fuck me. I woke up at 6 in the morning to you still touching me. you had the travel channel on a documentary on Christmas in Europe. You bragged about how you were half austrian half german. and you started speaking in german. it was random…but kind of hot. you let me play with your hair, and scratch your 5’oclock shadow on the curvs of your jawline. and you kissed me without any shame. and you kept doing and saying cute little things that temporarily fucked with my head. bare ass in the bed, you continued to cuddle me and intertwine your fingers into mine. kissing my shoulders. running your fingertips on the outlines of my torso. I have to admit. I’m impressed. no one’s ever been this sweet after sex. but we both know better. i was just a one time fuck. moving on. happy new year.