Friday night.
Currently out at a bar. It is the Artist Formerly Known as “The Sketchy Place,” recently renamed “The Secret Society.” It’s boring AF. Nothing juicy to overhear tonight, unfortunately. I definitely feel like I walked all the way up here for no reason whatsoever.
No one actually talks to me now that I’ve joined. Figures. Oh well, at least I tried. That’s what life is about. Trying and failing, then trying again and failing again, then finally accepting failure as the default and just accepting it for what it is.
I will never be a socially gifted person. It is what it is.
Well, I had hoped to overhear at least one interesting conversation, but so far… nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a whiff of anything remotely interesting. Boring AF.
How has the week been? Well, it started out very productive. Then I got wasted on Wednesday night and everything fell apart, again. Same pattern, different week. I am such a fucking mess. It doesn’t help that I’m making zero progress on my job hunt, my personal life is a disaster, and I have completely lost all sense of self beyond “This is my Trauma Narrative and it’s the only thing I have to talk about these days because I have no real accomplishments to my name.”
Nothing changes. Everything stays the same. At least I’m trying. I guess? I don’t know.
Definitely just feeling down in general this week. I’m just really, really lonely. I am lost, wandering, and lonely, without meaning or purpose. It is what it is.
Other notable things from this week: I did schedule one job interview for next week, but it’s for teaching and I don’t know if I want to do that again. I’m doing the interview anyway, just for good measure. It’s good to get the practice.
The other major event of this week is that I got a Brazilian wax. That was… not fun. It never is. However, I learned I have a new “Pain Scale” after my date with The Russian. I used to think a Brazilian wax was one of the most painful things a person could do. As it turns out, I did not understand the true meaning of pain and suffering until I decided to hook up with a Russian. Now I will never feel pain the same way again. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. All I can say is that it all feels very on-brand for Russians.
I still don’t understand what we actually did that night. I’m left with nothing but questions. I guess I really just didn’t understand what I was asking for. Perhaps it was a mistranslation? You really gotta watch out for that when it comes to Polyglots. I mean, that dude speaks 5 languages. Who knows what the fuck he actually heard? Plus, he’s Russian, so maybe what I said means something completely different to him? Not sure. No idea.
God, this place is boring AF. It sucks to be alone in Hong Kong. I HATE going to places alone. HATE it. No one just goes out alone here. Everyone is with a group or a date or a friend and I’m just the weirdo sitting alone in the corner writing about people. Nothing ever changes. It always stays the same.
Zero ability to socialize. None whatsoever.
I couldn’t if I wanted to. I have nothing to talk about with any of these people. I don’t have a career or a family or anything. I’m just… the weirdo sitting alone in the corner writing. It is what it is.
I was thinking for awhile that I needed to get out of my bubble and go to new places and meet new people. Well, here I am, and it’s the same. Same same, same same. Always the same.
I remember suddenly why I chose “my bar” and why I keep going back there instead of going to new places. I am friends with the bartender. She talks to me. I talk to her. We have fun conversations. This doesn’t happen to me here.
I’m leaving after this drink. I’m so fucking bored. I’m tired of always being alone. It SUCKS!
Okay, I’m done writing now. I’m going to pay my tab, smoke a cigarette, and get the fuck out of here before it gets even more boring.