additionally, I CANNOT GET OVER Steve’s fucking Sadness Errands that he keeps running around DC, like, his schedule literally goes
6 AM: jogging
7:15: unburden soul to total stranger, lacking better options
3 PM: visit own museum exhibit to stare at the Dead Best Friend Wall
4:30: attempt meaningful human connection with sole surviving contemporary; fail due to Alzheimer’s
6 PM: dinner for one
7 PM: contemplate own loneliness, probably
So, basically, the life of an old man who is in good shape.
relationship status: (drives through the night while 80s synthpop plays in the background)
I’m going to this party tonight.
I’m not really going because I want to.
For me, the party is stupid and pointless—not because it is, in an objective sense (not anymore than any other party), but because there is absolutely nothing worthwhile that can happen to me there.
But I’m going, because it is necessary maintenance on some of my social connections. They’re connections that I don’t even really care about anymore, but I ought to maintain them, because I do still have them, and that’s what people are supposed to do.
… Between things like this, and my weird sense of sociological detachment, I’m running out of days where I don’t feel like some kind of fucking space alien.