This Isn’t Your Usual Cocaine Rant
Cocaine is fucking amazing
You feel like you want to talk to everyone right now. Like hey listen to me. Here’s what I have to offer.
Value right now.
Every person you meet has the ability to astound you.
Tonight I met a friend of the guy who owns the hotel.
He’s been there like ten times. Only orders steak and eggs.
This is the first restaurant I’ve been to where they charge for water.
Water is a non zero item. Three dollars for hydrogen and oxygen and some covalent bonds.
Multivalent is a word I tried to use in an English essay one time and I got called out on it but I feel like it’s a good word.
My socks are comfortable. My pants are not. I need a U shaped crotch. This one is V shaped.
Cocaine is a fucking hell of a drug.
Also why are you hanging your mirror on this fucking plastic amateur shit?
You should have like brass…
This isn’t your usual cocaine rant.
Last time I had cocaine I was silent.
I’ve never felt like I had to say something more than at that moment, but then didn’t say it.
Which is a little sad.
But I did a lot more cocaine tonight.
Also if you could look up the Deadpool sexuality article online that would be great.
There’s a Deadpool article.
But it’s like hetero-something is the new homophobia.
Silverado is the SUV right? We did cocaine in there.
And in every bathroom we went to.
And I talked to various gay dudes.
Mostly about content marketing.
I feel like that’s what I excel at. You know. Is short term memory.
I might have gotten two or three cards tonight. Because let’s be honest. Men do the fucking business.
Don’t publish this under my name please.
I met several Puerto Ricans too.
I hope my head movement isn’t disturbing you.
I feel like I was really really smart one time. Like I was incredibly smart in high school. And I was surprisingly smart in college. I would write something and the teacher would write it up on the board and be like look at this. Look at what this kid did. This is great.
But you get out of school and then it’s just like. I don’t know.
Nobody fucking cares about Walt Whitman.
Or Epicurus. Or Swinburne.
Have you read Swinburne?
You should look into Swinburne.
He’s a pre-Raphaelite.
They were the guys after Tennyson and before T.S. Elliot.
He wrote a really good poem about Sappho. Who was this lesbian poet in Ancient Greece before Christ.
It was really violent and, you know, awesome. It just really tickles you.
There’s a really good poem called The Woodspurge. It’s this like dandelion they have in England.
It’s basically like this three pronged weed.
And it’s about this person who’s had his heart broken.
And all he can remember from all the grief is that he saw a woodspurge and it had three prongs.
When something really significant happens to you, you can only focus on the most insignificant things in your life.
I should memorize more poems.
The only poem I’ve ever memorized is Desiderata.
It’s like the most poemest of poems.
But I just can’t right now. My mind is electric you know. It’s circuits.
I feel like kissing somebody on the forehead is really like a cheesy move.
You know I really care about you, but only from here upwards. Only from your eyebrows to your fucking hair.
I recited that poem on the last day of college. Desiderata.
That day was just so full of tears.
It was also the day I drove to Myrtle Beach.
The dotted lines kept turning into solid lines.
But when I got there it was so great.
Except that one night on the beach that didn’t go well. When I just couldn’t find the right thing to say to her. That made me really sad.
This city is so great. The newness is so great. Every person you meet has never met you. They don’t have any reasons to hate you yet.
And you just have to be there to tell them what you’re about. What you stand for, who you are.
I met a guy who’s written for Comedy Central.
I’d read this headline and that head implanted itself in my head.
Let’s write a story right now.
A story I would write would be about a kid who grew up where I grew up, but who worked his way up to working at a building like the one I’m looking at right now.
But that’s not an exciting story.
That’s just following the rules.
You know who sucks? People ignoring their father who’s gonna pay for whatever it is you’re buying.
This guy with quaffed brown wavy hair orders a $700 dinner and doesn’t even look up from his phone.
I don’t know.
Is this productive for you at all?
Usually when I get home from work I just kinda scratch my inner thighs.
Cuz it feels sooo good.
I’m so glad that guy likes me. I had such a great time bonding with him and doing cocaine in the bathroom of a gay bar.
When’s the appropriate time to broach the subject that you’re not gay?
Who’s that philosopher whose all about sets. Wittgenstein?
No, Bertrand Russell. Yea that’s the guy. Set theory guy.
There are guys who you find attractive, but it’s like a small, small, set.
Like you see yourself in the mirror, and you can see how that could be attractive to somebody.
And you reinforce your attractions to how you look like.
There’s this guy there who everybody hated who styled himself exactly like me.
He told the hostess he wanted steak and eggs waiting for him when he got there because he knew the owner.
He’s achieved a level of success where he can walk into a restaurant and order anything he wants. Even if it’s not on the menu.
But he was by himself.
He sat at a table for four, but he was by himself.
I don’t know what to make of that.
Do you see a story in here yet?
This other guy I met, the gay guy. He had to coach me on how to do cocaine. First time was the Calvin Klein. Which is cocaine and ketamine.
Ketamine isn’t a fun drug after a while. It also makes your poop really thin. Like under grown carrots.
I’m sorry I went to Trader Joe’s without you.
I could speak poetically if you’d like.
But I feel like all my kinetic energy is spent on my neck movement right now.
I’m so glad I’m here.
I met a guy who writes for a show on Comedy Central and did cocaine with him in the bathroom of a gay bar.
The great thing about cooking is you never come up with the same thing twice.
Herodotus said that. You never step in the same river twice.
Alright let’s try some fucking poetry.
It’s so humbling to walk past a pillar on a bank that’s worth more than you are. In terms of marble.
My weight in marble is not worth what I am as a human being.
That’s a crazy thing.
Or that every time you walk past a street meat station. That’s five dollars and fifty cents of your income that day.
The fact that this apartment can change in a matter of months.
I was watching Mad Men. And Pete Campbell’s apartment was exactly like this one.
I feel like cocaine is like a ten minute drug. The inspiration might be waning.
You have to search your top competitors for things people need in the comments.
That’ll show you what people want in the area you’re in.
All these developers are all just living for their next demo day.
I don’t know. Fuck is such a great word. Because you can intersplice it anywhere.
After demo day the dust they’ve accumulated will be a beautiful sand castle or it will just blow away with the wind.
I’ve seen the upstart Czechoslovakian with his bus business.
If you want to write something I’d be happy to be productive.
Let’s write a New York story.
Everybody likes a New York story. That’s why everybody likes John Cheever.
He’s so good. He’s also unpredictable but whatever.
I haven’t fucked enough girls to start fucking dudes.
I hope I meet somebody like me. In some kind of way.
Hey let’s read a story from the Calvino book of Italian Folk Tales.
How do I look in this all black shit?
Alright this folk tale is about Jesus and Saint Peter
It’s called “How Saint Peter happened to join up with the Lord.”
Hannah studied geography. And it’s like why would you study fucking geography?
OK wait, “How Saint Peter happened to join up with the Lord.”
That’s such a great title for a chapter.
It’s just like. I mean there are like so many prosaic words to use for it.
It’s like one day Saint Peter was just around the Lord and this is how he found him.
I feel like I should teach my children Christianity if I have them.
At the very least it’s a true narrative.
I don’t know that much about Christ. I’ll admit that. But I think that. You know obviously Abraham’s sacrifice is huge.
I don’t even know what he represents in the sense of everything.
We humans are fucking terrible. We’re fucking fucked up. We all have flaws. Nobody is really a good person. Or at least every good person has sort of a side that belies that.
I have good characteristics, but I have others that disenfranchise me from that category of good.
So Christianity is like this collection of narratives. Plus what Jesus represents.
I think what most pastors hope for is something so massive that people can’t understand it.
That is just takes you, and makes you part of it.
People are so amazed and dazzled that they believe something that they haven’t personalized.
But it’s all about your relationship with the story.
If there were a parent who didn’t entirely believe the story of Christ. I can see why they would embrace that narrative to teach their children.
We’ve lost religion and then you end up with people who don’t believe in anything.
Just everything is momentary and you’re not connected to anything. You’re just critical of everything.
Like some dumb sentimental Easter Sunday post on Facebook by some bimbo who gets 65 likes from a bunch of fuckboys who just like her boobs.
That’s just fuckin’ shit.
And that Calvino story I read was fuckin’ shit.
But your essay about why you believe in Christianity would be like one of the seminal works of all Christian literature.
You’re discipline is like a fucking drug. It’s just unb-fuckin-elievable.
But you also have a deep interest in what the human spirit wants. And you try to understand it.
John, I don’t believe in God, but I would go to your church.
A young woman I used to know told me that once.
She said that stuff about my discipline, and then she said she doesn’t believe in God, but she would go to my church.
I feel like that’s. You know that’s the best compliment I will ever get.
But I’m not a pastor.
I don’t get along well with Christians.
I can understand why people fucking do cocaine.
I like to think that I’m pretty good with words.
I gotta pee.