It disturbs me to think about how many nights I sat on this curb after work, smoking a bowl, when I could have been hanging out with my friends instead. It’s like I was determined to be alone. Like I wanted to isolate myself, and get high, rather than high five my friends at this party down the street. I could’ve gone. I know that I could’ve. But I was too fucking cool for that. So fucking cool. Because I liked to be by myself. And I thought that those nights would help me figure out the meaning of life. And I thought that if I sat there long enough, and got high enough, and snuck enough of my parents booze, I would figure out what the hell I was supposed to be doing. Only now that seems like it was a huge god dammed waste. It was. Because there is no fucking meaning to life. Life is life. It is a series of things that repeat over and over until we die. And sometimes we get to have fun. But I turned my back on every opportunity to enjoy myself. And now I’m back on this curb. Older. More bored. And so disturbed by how many nights I spent here when I didn’t have to. Unless maybe it’s not too late. I stand up. I throw my bowl on the cement and watch it shatter to a hundred pieces. Fuck this curb.
LOU RASMUS
big book guy
Curb
58 responses to “Curb”
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You know, this really resonates, I mean, I have a family member who is dealing with their alcoholism right now, and the regret and remorse they are dealing with…it’s heart breaking. But he went into detox and rehab and he’s feeling so much more positive. And I can’t tell you how over the moon I am, really. It’s been a long hard road. But you gotta have the cheerleaders, you know, the support has to keep going. So if it means anything, it’s never too late. 🌸
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nice to know this reaches others. and if does feel better to write through it. not sure if it will bring a change, but maybe. thanks for the comment
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I love this post, Lou. You’re showing signs of at least wanting to grow and change. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of throwing out my Evan Williams. I haven’t managed it yet, but I have reduced my frequency & amount of intake. I quit smoking years ago; maybe someday I’ll quit drinking too. I wish you luck. If you ever want help getting access to resources to help you quit or just to ease your anxiety & depression, please email me at theceaselessreader@gmail.com, let me know in which state you live, and I’ll send you some info.
Take care, be well, and happy Blogging,
Denny
Wisdom is worth what we pay for it. Maybe you wasted a lot of time. Maybe you discovered the truth about “friendship and social commaraderie”. Maybe fun isn’t in the hang, it’s who you become without it. You as you, instead of you, mirrored in other people. Altering your expectations doesn’t exclude you from the club. It does make cutting the shit and letting it fall a lot easier.
However, as a standalone character study, nice work.
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i think you’re right. thanks Phil
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possibly
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I think you did. 👏🏼👍🏼Quick story that i wish was not. My brother-in-law was found in his 125+ F apt, literally cooked. He just couldn’t shake himself awake. For years he snuck out of sight and no one was the wiser for what tormented him. Keep trying to do whatever it is you are trying to figure out or do or whatever. To life 🍻.
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thank you for sharing this
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“Fuck this curb.” I love that. But I bet you were right back there the next day. I feel like if you really wanted to be alone, you would’ve smoked at home and not on a curb where anyone can stumble upon you. Maybe you were hoping someone more chill would find you and keep you company but reality set in and you realized that’s all you were, alone. I really love your writing and getting to peek inside your troubled mind. I find you very intriguing. Great work.
LOU RASMUS 
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