Category: love

books, love, money, relationships, solitude, work

The Free Time Tester… a cautionary Tale.

Posted on by Dmitry

After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working – Kenneth Grahame


My worst fear came true. I became a food service manager after college. Fast food. I remember thinking about this years ago. Thinking about all of these hundreds of thousands of people all over America. Wondering how they do it. How the fuck do they do it?

And then I became one.

How did I end up here? Well. I suppose I had more drinking nights than book nights in college, and I ended up with a heartbreaking 2.93 GPA. If I had gotten a 2.95, I could just put a 3 on my resume, and get some decent interviews, maybe. But.. this.. this 2.93 meant options were limited. I thought about going for a real estate license, but I’ve already met too many annoying broads in that field. I’m dumb because I’m a drunk. They’re just dumb by default, you know? You know what I’m saying? Food service actually seemed like the lesser evil.

About a year out of college, a more intriguing opportunity came my way via an old roommate. He was at one of the AI companies, and said they were looking to hire FREE TIME testers. They figured pretty soon jobs were really going to disappear rather fast, and the government gave them a grant to study how normal people might respond to all the leisure.

It was a quick phone interview with a Mr. Morgan.

I first asked why they don’t just hire Homeless people.

“They’re just different,” he said.

Then, I had to point out that it’s not a great experiment because if everyone really does become unemployed in the future, this lifestyle would become a social norm, not an aberration. He said that’s really clever, but he still had to hire 5 guys in this town.

Was I in or out?

So what’s the deal? The study lasts for 60 days. I’d get 50 bucks a day, paid weekly. I’m supposed to avoid any activity I would consider work. I’m supposed to ask 3 local strangers out on dates, and report how that goes. Report any police contact, also.

As expected, the first week was a very welcome holiday. Basically, I’d get drunk and go to the movies.

How about some exercise? Sure, I can do some jogging. What bliss.

3 weeks in, the company called to remind me that I had to look for a date. And it should be someone I haven’t met yet.

Could be tricky.

I remembered that the library had social events and book readings every other week or so. Here we go. A friendly little thing, it seems. The name’s Sally.

Sally was some kind of social worker. I told her about my little adventure and she gave me a frown.

I said I actually tried to get out of it at the interview, but I also really needed a change. How about Sushi?

Sushi it is.

“So what do you Actually want to do?”

Oh. You mean like.. professionally? For the rest of my life?

“Sure… something like that” says Sally.

I remembered that I always fucking hated these conversations. Am I going to impress her with a lofty goal? Should I err on the side of humility maybe? Let’s try to come up with something honest, and see if that works.

“I guess I wanted to be a lawyer and a judge,” I say. “But the only class I failed in college was Logic. So now.., now I am just lost and confused.”

There’s more to life than logic! You’re young. I’m sure you’ll find something satisfying. You got a favorite book?

Sure, I like Camus. I keep wondering if his “accident” was actually a suicide. He seemed like the type, right?

“As I recall, he wasn’t driving”

Well, I guess you know more than I do. I wasn’t there. Believe half that you see, and nothing you read, right?

“Yeah, I think I heard that one somewhere…”

“Well.. how’s this going so far? You got other plans tonight, or should we go get a drink somewhere?”

I think I do have plans… let’s maybe chat again in a few, okay?

No problem…

So that was Sally. I went to the bar anyway and tried to flirt with the bartender. Maybe I can count that too.

So, the first month went by. It was rather uneventful. I began to feel a little empty, and I began to dread going back to work. Fucking food service. How the hell did I end up here? I don’t think these jobs are going anywhere. People always need to go somewhere where someone’s nice to them. Someone that’s not a goddamn robot. I think that’s what I’ll tell Morgan at the debrief.

I want to grow. I want to have a sense of accomplishment. But how is that going to work? If the same fat fucks are always hungry the next day. On Day 57 I got arrested for peeing in an alley behind a bar. Well, whaddya know… I guess idle hands are the devil’s workshop.

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books, life, love, relationships, school, solitude, take it easy, work, writing

basic pleasure model

Posted on by Dmitry

Dedicated to one or two women who maybe liked me.. years ago. and inimitable… Philip K. Dick.

For those of you who skipped their women’s studies classes, first-wave feminism got women the vote; second-wave got them employed and divorced; third-wave is busy making them porn stars. More or less – Kathleen Parker

Someone once told me that I was good enough looking, that if I were just nice to girls, I could probably get laid pretty often. I don’t think I ever actually tried doing it that way.

These are the phases that you go through, I suppose. You’re young. You’re surrounded by people. You’re anxious. and Annoyed. You drink. You’re alone. You’re afraid of dying alone. I think eventually you figure out… alone might be kind of nice. Because you’re so goddamn tired of being nice to people. Would anyone ever really love the real you? Doubtful… Someone wise once said.. what you really want doesn’t actually exist in reality. Now you go and think about that one…

Lucky for me, I was the only one at that fucked up party who actually figured out her costume – Pris. And you don’t dress like that.. unless you want some. Am I right or am I Right?

She wasn’t perfect.. but you know what, she was pretty close. The only question now is, could I actually leave behind this fucking self-pity I had become so addicted to. Senior year. I think I really was doing these calculations somewhere in the back of my mind. Just imagine. If I don’t get laid THIS year.. then shit. I could actually keep feeling sorry for myself FOREVER. I mean look, I didn’t even get any pussy in college. What are they going to say to that? This is America, and there ain’t a worse punishment imaginable.. Look at him. He didn’t even get any pussy in college. Right?

So what’s the plan going to be here? We close. We start talking about our parents.. and the future perhaps… I hope that when I actually have to see these other parents, they’ll hate me enough that I don’t have to feel too bad about the inevitable breakup. Ideally, I can get enough sex out of this and be done with her by Christmas.

So you live in this house? (She jolts me out of the daydream)

Uh.. no, Jerry does. Let me talk to a couple people first, then we’ll get going.

I never said I’m going home with you! I was just wondering. I think the girls and I have other plans.

Whatever. Give her space.

A few drinks later she does wander over to the couch, and again starts chatting.

So you said you don’t live far, is that right?

I like your type, I say…

Which is?

You’re the type who’ll have a lot of regrettable sex because you’re afraid you can’t get the guy you really want to be with.

It took a few seconds for her to start laughing.

She came back with the usual, I guess that’s what college is for, isn’t it?

You wanna watch Blade Runner with me or no?

We do indeed end up at my place pretty soon that night. I never even have to meet the parents. She found some other inebriate between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I guess it’d be worse if she were perfect.

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babies, books, creativity, love, relationships, school, writing

Good in small doses… and other stories, perhaps?

Posted on by Dmitry

So I am thinking of applying to an exclusive fiction writing program in the fall. I’ve got a few half-baked stories and Essays out there… I do read a lot of crap too, and I think my crap is basically as good as anyone’s crap. Over the past few days I was working on this one story. My rule for short fiction is.. Write it.. then give it a week. if it still makes you laugh, it’s not bad. That’s my theory. I hope I can come up with something else that’s new this summer.. but don’t get your hopes up. This theme of a depressed man reconnecting with a long lost child has been used before, I am sure, but I hope I’m giving it a good twist of my own… – Dmitry Dyatlov, 2025.

Waiting in the therapist’s office, I had some time to reflect on what went on this spring… in Ohio.

I almost became a father. Of course, the best time to find out you’re a father is just before you kill yourself.

I believe that you’ve got to have some kind of moral compass or, rather, a guiding philosophy in life. Mine has always been, everything is good in Small doses. I’m a pharmacist. At least, I used to be. I guess that’s where it comes from. I moved up to Atlanta after I got my degree.

Holly got my current number from a mutual college friend and called at the strangest moment. I was preparing to mix a nice little cocktail of pharmaceuticals to permanently relieve me of the pain of.. Life. And out of nowhere.. Holly.

I guess you could say I got exactly what I always wanted at 34. I got married, and divorced. and I still got to keep the Land Rover. Used. Not too used. Life’s good, isn’t it? However, most days I still felt like I was doing a jail sentence.

Opioids. I was beginning to like them too, and I knew that if at some point, someone at that place ever figured out how to count, well, we would have to have a very uncomfortable conversation. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but something about the scripts seemed more and more suspicious the last few years. All these drugs, it just can’t be healthy. I didn’t want to annoy the Boss with every little inconsistency.
“Just give ’em the pills, you’re not a doctor.”

That’s right. I don’t make the rules.. I just work here. Anyway, after a few years of this, the pesky conscience did begin to hit the brakes on me. I just had to get out. Possibly, I could come back, but right now, I really had to leave. A family member was in desperate need of help, I said, in Ohio! And so I got my month off. And, by some miracle, I did have to go to Ohio, after all.

I suppose I just lost the sense that I was really helping anyone there, you know?

Getting married was something I always wanted to do and at the time it seemed acceptable. This was years before Holly’s little intervention, remember. She seemed acceptable. The wife. I met a Brazilian nurse who drank a little too much. Honeymoon was fantastic. But, you know how it is. Couple years go by, a few extra pounds. Then there was the time her mom went off medication. She would call us 3 times a day for a month. She’d get locked out, or she really thought that someone was hiding in her closets. Oh, and finally, the cheating. You know what happens when you marry a cute little nurse, don’t you? She’s gonna try to trade you in for a doctor… probably sooner rather than later. C’est la vie. She said… she said she just got bored and it meant nothing. Just move on. And so we did… Move on. Separately.

She just GREW UP, you see? Nothing makes me want to die as much as people telling other adult people to GROW UP. Would you like to see my birth certificate? Or my college diploma? I suppose they have a point. I seem to be the only one who gets stuck in the past, trying to invent a time machine… why can’t I just move along? Why does every little fling have to be so special?

In the 90s, my small Florida college was a bit like… a sexual wine tasting. I didn’t have to worry about money at the time. I ran the mile pretty fast. Solid scholarship. Track was cool, at this school, apparently. The female entourage on weekends was actually impressive. And once in a while they let you fool around with the snatch. Everyone has to tell you their pedigree before copulation. Well I am Polish-Italian, or German-Irish, or just a Jew… I think I met at least 7 different kinds of Asian and I still can’t tell them all apart. Was there a Latina in there somewhere? I believe there was… we didn’t get very far. Catholic… she says. Virgin. I guess I wasn’t sleeping with the girls I really wanted, but at least I was sleeping, with people, once in a while. I suppose I got enough sex to not have to hate women forever. We should all be so lucky.

Speaking of hating women. That’s kind of how Holly and I met. There was this one Sociology class senior year led by a fervent anti-Misogynist named G. Wallace. Typical academic. Some kind of fancy, flamboyant jacket, large glasses, ponytail. A tad more body fat than optimal, I am sure. I remember one day when some fool asked him point blank why women always seem so capricious. Wallace told him the facts… the truth. Look, girls have a short time horizon, and a huge potential investment from sex. You, my friend, can still fuck around till, oh 45 or even 50 maybe and then still get your shit together, find a feeble-minded Doe outside some therapist’s office, and make babies. You see what I’m saying? We were assigned to groups for a project. It was me, Holly, and a far less attractive female specimen. The three of us would get coffee once in a while.

So, a few months back, mid-March, I guess, Holly called and said she wanted to catch up. I said this is great timing, as I had a vacation coming up. What a strange coincidence, huh?

I did go up to Ohio, not too far from Columbus was where she lived. And here it is. Here she is. The female child that’s about to give life meaning. Holly seemed so certain that it was me. That it was Mine. I guess I do remember that night in ’97. Sort of. Classes were done. We had a few days before graduation. After checking out some dives (bars) in that Florida town, we expressed mutual interest. We did exchange numbers, but never really kept in touch. I had Grad school and she had to fulfill some kind of missionary commitment… for her church. They shipped her off to Peru, or Bolivia, or one of these places.

“May I ask why you thought this would be such a great time for us to get acquainted?”

And she says her parents died. A week apart. Around Christmas.

“and what exactly does she know about me?”

That you were deported.

Alright, fair enough. I guess I’d buy that, if I were 12. Would I stoop so low as to order the customary DNA test? You know, at some point I probably will. But we’ll see how this goes first. There’s no rush. Why not at least entertain the idea? The eyes… Yes, they could be my eyes. Very pretty.

Their suburban place was big and everyone felt it was appropriate for me to stay with the newfound family. Mary, Holly, and I. After a couple days I decided to start dispensing fatherly advice.

“So what is going on with you, kid?”

Lots of people said that Michael likes me, but when I gave him a “Valentine” last month he told me to jump off a cliff.

Well, I suppose that happens sometimes. People actually love feeling sorry for themselves, you know? They call it a Secondary payoff, I think. You don’t get what you really want, but it’s almost like… like a Silver medal, I guess. You get to Sulk all day, and there’s no fear of loss. Imagine… just imagine having absolutely nothing to complain about. We would die of boredom. Maybe his ‘loving’ parents have horrible fights. So that’s what he’s been associating with attraction. Who knows what’s really going on with this Mike kid. Let me tell you this. Give it a year, and if you still like the kid, give him a Psychology book next year. Something by BERNE, Eric. I think he might appreciate it.

Later that week, I found one of those Bumper car places in Columbus… it’s the stupidest thing in the world, but I always wanted to take my kids to a Bumper car attraction. And then Ice cream.

So the pharmacy job was still an option, and I could put in for a transfer to Ohio, I guess. I still had a few days to make up my mind about what to tell these people.

Toward the end of April, Holly said we had to meet another friend.

Holly and I went to a diner nearby. Well, what a surprise. It’s the old Professor. G. Wallace. Explanation? After getting sober, this sneaky asshole also got a divorce… then got hired by Ohio State after Florida. Said he had to track down an old flame for an AMENDS, you see? Of course, he and I were quite surprised to see each other.

Yes, it’s certainly not Okay to sleep with students. It says so in every university manual, I am sure. But this complicates our situation now, doesn’t it? What exactly was the timeline of Holly’s shameful liaisons?

One might ask why Holly didn’t do the test herself. The DNA test. And I suppose, the only plausible explanation is she believed her own Bullshit. She repressed the particulars of those last few stressful weeks of college, maybe drank a little too much. I suppose I must have made a better impression. Who really wants to remember screwing some Icky 45-year old professor, with a ponytail? She said they ran into each other at some kind of concert.

Soon enough, we had the final verdict. I am Not the daddy, after all.

It was all very nice, and now it’s kind of nice that it’s all over. Mary is still the child of someone that I maybe used to love, and I suppose that’s good enough. We can all be Friends, I guess. I gave her some money and a birthday card with that John Lennon quote – If you can’t be happy, then you don’t know anything about life… something like that. I told her to start jogging and think more about Jesus.

The aging academic said he’ll gladly take over relevant duties. And I said I prefer the South anyway.

What else can I say about kids? I just know that if I say too much, they will blame me for everything.

And remember, everything is good in small doses. Especially family.

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books, life, love, relationships, solitude, writing

IF THERE WAS A TEST, I MUST HAVE FAILED IT.

Posted on by Dmitry

If there’s delight in love, ‘Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me – William Congreve

I took a certain pride in knowing I’d helped ruin his life enough to give him something substantial to write about – Mick Jagger

I started thinking.. the other day about whether or not I actually broke any hearts, really? If I can find like 3, then maybe I’d be happy. hehehe. Pretty fucked up, isn’t it? Is this a diagnosable condition?? Did anyone actually Want to go to prom, with me? Or.. or maybe that Megan girl I roomed with for a few weeks in Chicago. I think maybe Megan liked me. maybe not. She looked pretty frail.. but I do hope she’s alive.. somewhere..

Maybe it was just the one girl.. in Russia.. who wanted to marry me when we were 10 or 11.

I keep discovering writers who killed themselves in their 40s.. or drank themselves to death, which is arguably the same thing.. so.. even THAT is not original. You begin to wonder.. around this time, I suppose.. will there ever be a second act? Another chapter in this crazy life. they had that plane and black hawk crash at Reagan the other day. No survivors. It’s not always so dramatic.. but it begins to dawn on you that.. this.. All this will soon be over, and maybe you won’t even see it coming. And if you see it coming.. yeah, I suppose I’d rather see it coming. There must be.. a date.. in the Akashic field (Ervin Laszlo, Edgar Cayce) or whatever the hell that is. Look it up. it’s interesting stuff.. this Akashic business.

I think it’s another common theme in Alcoholics anonymous. IF YOU LIKE ME, THEN I’LL DESPISE YOU.. right? Pretty fucked, I guess. I think I heard something like that before..

I think there’s another game called Stump your Therapist. I’m pretty good at this game. That’s where I came up with – MY QUALITY OF LIFE DOESN’T JUSTIFY THE EFFORT REQUIRED TO COPE WITH IT.

Pretty good, eh? Or.. my Higher power doesn’t want me to get a shitty job in addition to being a miracle.

Or, Why don’t you make me Care about Life again? It’s your job, not mine. You’re the EXPERT.

So, anyway, Still looking for a prestigious publisher for my Autobiography. I think we’ll call it – IF THERE WAS A TEST, I MUST HAVE FAILED IT.

another one is – IF YOUR LIFE IS A LIVING HELL, THEN WHY DO YOU WANT MORE OF IT??

You know.. good things do happen, sometimes. I really did find a backpack with $52 dollars around this time last year. That was nice. But I still didn’t get the stimulus. what do I really want? I think I just want to drive one of those streetcars in New Orleans. that’s what I want.

this.. I think this is called “Secondary gain” in the business –

Victimhood
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books, life, love, money, relationships, society, take it easy, work

deaths of despair.

Posted on by Dmitry

Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together – Petrarch

By definition, you have to live until you die. Better to make that life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be – Irvine Welsh

no, not depressed today. Actually, I am probably a little Manic. thats why.. that’s why I’m in a writing Mood I guess. But.. couple days ago I was watching a little talk by Niall Ferguson on the subject. We’ll come back to that…

You know one thing I really am grateful for.. is my Memory. Some people say that’s why Hemingway Off’ed himself. He saw he lost the magic. Electroshock fucked something up. Once in a while, I think I still have THE MAGIC. uh… I’ll come back to that also.. Maybe today. Maybe Not.

Four years ago I posted on Facebook, hey look, I made it to 33 and I am still alive. I Outlived Jesus of Nazareth. And Now I got 4 more years. Nothing much has changed.. but.. hey, I guess most people think it’s better to be alive than the alternative.

I did. I did try to contact “Poverty Solutions.” Because in AA they tell me to ASK FOR HELP. So I did. I found the Appropriate resource, and I Asked for Help. Yep.

For some reason these idiots referred me to the Police department, Again. And I want THE WORLD to see this. I want Someone to explain to me WHAT THE FUCK is going on. WHY are these scumbags avoiding responsibility? Why do you believe that a 36 year old male with 39 cents in his bank account, Living with Mom Does NOT qualify for your help. You’re the University of Michigan. You say you’re Solving poverty. I want you to Grow the HELL up and DO what you say you’re qualified to be doing. Just Grow up!

This isn’t funny anymore. I am really not making a joke here. Someone has to GROW THE HELL UP.

Poverty Solutions

This morning in the shower what I really wanted to write about was.. sex or Self pity. Which would you rather have? Of course you need to have had both to make an Informed decision. And you know what. you know what.. I think I’m leaning toward Self-pity. What is it now? 28 years left. till I get that Social security check. If they don’t solve my poverty Sooner. Fine. you know what. FUCKING FINE! I can wait 28 years. I keep getting better at waiting. I’ll ride this horse all the way to Retirement!

It’s not like I haven’t tried other things. I got this guy’s book. D. D. Burns. And I can’t get through the fucking chapter on Motivation. He’s supposed to be as good as they come. Fucking Amherst, UPenn, Stanford. Holy shit. I even said I’ll work for him. he needed a test driver for his Ai therapist I think, but I assume the position has been filled. Oh well.

My real therapist, currently, sometimes talks about REALITY. Reality? You know what that makes me think of? That makes me think of Freight trains. That’s as real as it gets, buddy. If you don’t get out the way of That thing, game over. Reality. Fucking asshole. No. I’m really not depressed today. this is not a “Gesture”

I just want him to get a little more specific, that’s all. If by reality you mean you want me to get a shit job, for shit money, and do all this while I’m SOBER, Well you can go Fuck yourself. Reality. THAT is why I think of Freight trains.

Yeah, I used to think girls were real special. Like most young men.. I thought.. I thought if one day I would actually make love to a really beautiful woman, things would change.. dramatically. Something Fantastic, and Magical would happen. Have I done it yet? Heh, I’m not sure. I guess eventually I made up in quantity.

You have to define success and be happy when you get it!

That’s it. That’s my little therapy tip. Original? I think so.

You know if I did have.. a Magic wand.. a time machine, I wouldn’t even go back to 2009. Because if I could have a do-over with Roxi.. well.. well then I wouldn’t have Any Self-pity!! Why would I give THAT up? HAHAHAHAHA.

But I Would go back to… 2010. Because that’s when I met M. no wait.. maybe it was 2011 already. Anyway. It was that Winter. I believe it was pretty cold. She broke up with BOYFRIEND. She was in town for training, a week? and Oh God She was something. We were, what? 23 and 25 I guess. I thought it was perfect.. MEANT to be. mm.. I know her name.. I know where she went to school.. but you know what.. she met my friend.. Rafferty. They seemed to get along.. Rafferty is dead by the way.. I am pretty sure. Suicide probably. For other reasons. Anyway. I was jealous.. of course.. and I believe the Bro Code says, I SAW IT FIRST, so its supposed to be mine. I went back.. grabbed my bag from her hotel room that I strategically placed earlier (sneaky), and I just had to leave. I think we started off well, but my drunken self was eventually creeping her out. She said maybe tomorrow.. hehe. No. I stayed away from the Crowne Plaza that week. Maybe she found Raff again. Who knows. I am sure if I DID have a time machine.. I could make that night work, eventually. But.. I don’t know. I don’t seem to meet spectacular women anymore. Maybe it’s because I’m not that hungry. Maybe it’s just impossible.. to make it work. Maybe I’m too addicted to Self pity.. No going back.. no going back they say.

Memory. yes. when we run out of booze, we feed on memories. I think it’s not a bad way to live.

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babies, communication, environment, life, love, money, relationships, school, solitude, take it easy, work

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Posted on by Dmitry

And if there is one sure sign in Hegel’s philosophy that history isn’t over, of course it’s a war. Because there are embodied people in struggle with different views about what freedom is and how to live. RICK RODERICK

well. I guess today I was inspired by a recent publication on Augustine of Hippo (Linked below) to add some more words about my own sad, little life.

I began to pray. what did I pray? I prayed. GOD is there anything left for me to do.. on God’s green earth?

I guess I was a little suicidal. But. I prayed.

God.. God usually tells me to Lie a little less. or never.

You know.. Ma.. ma never lets me down.. I guess.. Ma knows I fucked her like no man ever could. Right? hehehehehe..

Sorry. maybe that’s a little too much. Ma always likes to say Oh we’re just little people from the middle of nowhere.. some little village in Russia or Belarus or Ukraine or some shit.

And I think she sincerely believes it.. Humility is a virtue!

But she knows very well that her parents were Military officers who worked abroad who definitely had some power in the ol’ Soviet system at least. and that’s why they got to reproduce so quickly.. and I had nice bikes and Camels.. where’s the fucking camel? There’s a picture of the camel somewhere.. well. you know.

What is it that drove these people.. my parents to Jump Ship in 1998 and move to America.. perhaps we’ll never know. I think they were just running.. running away from shit. Instead of confronting it. Russia was nice. I had a girlfriend in Russia… when I was.. 10.

Well. they’re employable. I’m not.. apparently. I just write shit on the internet. I donate plasma and get 50 bucks for drink. Hey, that’s not bad pay for not doing shit for an hour. I still try to get some runs in. Still running. Marathons.

Oh, wait. yes. I fell in love. I did fall in love once. and that’s what I get.. from the object of my affection. Shit, I still can’t believe it.. maybe it’s just a California thing? no.. No I think this still makes sense to some people.. here… in Michigan. Just read.

So. by the time you’re 27 you’re up to 4 boyfriends that you cheated on.. and I still didn’t get that pussy. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh. Oh Lord.. what do you want me to do? or say…

What? What do you say to something like that? Except maybe drink yourself to death.. hehehe.

What? No. no no no no no. You’re not gonna make me do shit. People. you see.. PEOPLE used to do things for a reason. The reason usually was you’re trying to start a family.. or something. right? How do you do that.. these days? In this environment… I respect your honesty.. but JESUS.. YOU know. JESUS. what do you say to something like that?

God.. Is there ANYTHING left for me to do.. on this earth.. today..? You just sit back.. Enjoy the show.. I guess?

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advice, life, love, patience, relationships, solitude, take it easy, value, work

Cancer.

Posted on by Dmitry

oh wouldn’t it be nice to have cancer.

Honestly, I can’t think of a better way to go.

It’s nice! PEOPLE FEEL SORRY FOR YOU.

if things arent going well… I am doing something Wrong… they say.

well things have been kinda fucked up. and I really dont know wtf… wtf am I doing. Drinking? okay. yes. Maybe Im still drinking.

But more will be revealed! that’s also true… I guess. more is always revealed.

I discovered a new author. Christopher Lasch. historian. hehe. Cancer. Lucky. Died on Valentine’s day, did he?

You know I read this quote… yesterday. and I honestly don’t know what the hell he means. Maybe I should just get the book and see if he explains it further. Aren’t they both just SELLING something? what exactly is his point? that some things shouldn’t be for sale?? in most… states… heh.

is that what he means? I don’t know.

No, I never really was “Blazing through pussy” as one of my therapists used to say. too hard… fast… although yes I did have a nice year in Philadelphia. Philly was fun. no complaints. the last two uh… Quasi-relationships were with older gals… and I suppose there was a bit of a transfer of wealth in my direction. hehe. they weren’t bad looking, I’d do it for free… heh… but… hey the extra gratitude doesn’t hurt. I guess. I can always use more socks……. and food.

Was that really my objective? no… but how does.. Rollo say it? the “gynocratic social order” ?? is that what it’s about? Girls want what they want… and sometimes they’re even ready and willing to pay? and I really didn’t have much else going on. and all things considered… why not… it’s definitely better than the relationship I’ve been observing between my parents…. as we all know… by now.

Improper documentation of requirements always leads to many sleepless nights and angry people – ACCENTURE.

Good thing I remembered that one… hehe.

No. my only real objective for many years has been to see my father suffer horribly for making my life a living hell.

Strike 1 – Leaving Russia. You dumbass…. Strikes 2 & 3. didn’t fucking leave me ALONE when I actually had things going on… opportunities… in 2005. 2010 also. I could’ve been in a different fucking state and all he had to do was fucking LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

Nope. he’s got to keep fucking up my life. But. But THIS IS AMERICA. and that’s definitely 3 strikes, by my count.

and you’re a fucking piece of shit. And you will not be TRUSTED. you will just be observed. very closely. you dumb little piece of shit.

is there another way to look at it? Maybe. But I still think My view is more right than any other.

What else am I doing wrong?

the DECISION MAKERS. heh. they’re somewhere. they can open doors, I am sure. if they want. but. the doors are closed and it’s really not up to me. what the hell you really want? I did have 3 or 4 months of no drinking a couple years ago. AND NOTHING IS HAPPENING. so what the fuck do you really want. I don’t have any more fucking stories. sorry.

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law, life, love, medicine, relationships, religion, school, society, value, work

a process of elimination…

Posted on by Dmitry

I know I should be doing something… but I just don’t know what.

I really don’t see any good ideas.

yes. half the time I really am just waiting… day dreaming… that some philosophical society will send me an award… or I get the Macarthur fellowship… it’s great. because you don’t even have to apply for those… you can just wait. hehe. and Visualize getting a fellowship. Like I said. I think I deserve it. it’s time.

yes, I’ve said many times, that some of my problem is being lazy, and feeling sorry for myself.

But look how far that got me! I’m 36. Not bad. World marathon record holder Kelvin Kiptum just died at 24. Hope he was sober… anyway.

what the hell am I supposed to do with myself?

I think I want to fall in love. hehe. Sometimes I run across the Deb McMillan Bridge in Rochester (MI) and see all these fucking locks hanging off it. fucking pisses me off. that really is a thing isn’t it? If you love someone, you go to the bridge, and you hang a fucking lock on it. Never got to do that.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_lock

I’m always really good at coming up with reasons not to do shit.

Where do I start. Sales. Been doing sales since I was 12. Yes, I think that contributed to my depression. I’m more manic than depressive honestly. but. still. I’m not fucking doing sales. No more.

History. Well. you know. I talked about this before. they can’t even figure out what the hell happened on 911. Osama? heh. probably not. There’s Loose change (movie). there’s architects and engineers for truth. look it up. really. that’ll get you started. but… I bet if I open up a history book. it probably just says Osama. osama osama osama. hehe. No. I cannot take HISTORY seriously. Sorry. We’ve got to do better than that. I mean, actually. yes. I would be interested in figuring out what actually happened. but, apparently THEY dont want us to know. That’s why there’s all these fucking theories… and in my opinion… nothing really makes 100 percent sense.

Moving on to THE LAW. I probably wrote about this somewhere. the college friend who turned me on to Balzac all those years ago is actually a lawyer. hehe. LAWS ARE SPIDER WEBS… THROUGH WHICH BIG FLIES PASS. AND LITTLE ONES GET CAUGHT. Yes. there have been some great lawyers. Gerry Spence, I guess. But, mostly… I’m afraid it’s just going to make me even more insane.

Medicine. Well. you know. Some days I actually pray for cancer. hasn’t happened yet.

And speaking of Praying. How about theology. that’s always been big in America. Well. you know the story. I had an intervention. or something. they know. they know what happened. Cute psychiatric nurse starts talking to me about carpenters in Philadelphia. Not far from where Franklin flew his Kite (I just found out). and the Liberty bell. Very poetic. And shit, you know what. I think I saw God. something happened, that’s for sure. And since then, God hasn’t sent me a single email. So. Yes, some people busy themselves going to Divinity schools… but… well… honestly… what proof have you got, really? that God wants this or that. What fucking proof have you got to show me?

they didn’t even give me any pussy in college.

Finding that no religion is based on facts and cannot therefore be true, I began to reflect what must be the condition of mankind trained from infancy to believe in errors.

ROBERT OWEN
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babies, communication, love, money, relationships, school, society, value

Yes… I actually like older women.

Posted on by Dmitry

at that point. they actually start making sense.

I am not cynical. I am just old. I know what is going to happen next

Fay weldon

and I like Ellen Fein…. who was the inspiration for starting this blog…. if you scroll far enough.

Just click Blog roll… and scroll. you’ll find it.

and there’s Kathleen parker… of course… and Heather Mac Donald…. what is it that she said… in her book. Let me find it. yep. here it is —

The new order is emerging as a bizarre hybrid of liberationist and traditionalist values. It carefully preserves the prerogative of no-strings-attached sex while cabining it with legalistic caveats that allow females to revert at will to a stance of offended virtue…

Heather…

so, of course. what I said… is Hold on a minute. hold. on. see, I was paying attention. and My SAT score is… pretty high… and you just said you FUCKED GUYS YOU JUST MET… a few times… and now you don’t want to give me that pussy???

well that’s fucked up. I dont know why we’re still talking… really. go on. go on and have fun….

…

and for me… well there was Amy… like 8 years ago. Jesus. Amy was really good in bed. she was Super. and now I dont really know what she’s doing. Is that enough for me? Just good in bed. and she gave me food… like she did for her cats…. hehehehehe…

do I want Kids? I don’t know. Like I said. I think the right thing is for me to back to Russia. But. No one is cooperating.

why?

oh… Jesus. really. I just want to live by the Mississippi in the south. somewhere near new orleans. that’s really all I want… like that guy in True Detective… I guess.

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babies, communication, life, love, money, news, relationships, religion, school, society, value, work

the Beginning.

Posted on by Dmitry

I have to constantly remind myself that I play the game on a different level.

if some dumb bitch does not know for sure that she wants to make my babies

then I really don’t give a shit.

that’s one of the most valuable lessons I took from Russia. I had a girlfriend. I really did. She said my Mom was to be her Mother in law.

and I won’t forget. I’ll never forget that this is what Russia had for me. And America got me nothing. just a bunch of Random, BULLSHIT work. Fuck you. And Booze. I won’t complain about the booze, I guess. I love booze.

Who won the cold war. who knows. maybe no one. The ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS textbook says victors only Seem to win. it also says Visual proof is pretty weak proof… of anything.

But the world will always crave Beauty, will it not?

Birth control? Well I don’t know. I can’t say it is bad altogether.

But… but I am perfectly happy to see Russia aligning with the more traditional cultures… China… South America… maybe India, where they do seem to acknowledge the idea that something happens to a Man’s motivation when he finds out his beautiful 25 year old bride has actually had something like 20 to 30 other men’s Cocks already inside her.

Hmmm. Ya, I’m gonna say something’s wrong with that. Something just doesn’t feel right…

I won’t hide it. I suppose this is my little dating advertisement. It’s right here.

I’m 6’2 / 160 pounds maybe… I don’t eat much.

I run a 3 hour marathon.

Great education (Ross school of business)

I speak 2.5 languages.

So, I don’t know what else you ladies could possibly want. I tried getting a job First before. I tried that already. That didn’t work out. It did not work out for some reason. I can be a lying piece of shit at the US Labor department. I cant do this. It doesn’t take long for them to just give me some bullshit job where I cant be a lying piece of shit, who doesn’t know what is going on around him. that’s basically what they look for, I think. From my experience.

Jurgen Habermas… for some reason I really love this lecture –

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