Memories

Yesterday I went through a local market. The locals tried to charge me way too much and eventually I just left because I was too scared to ask how much anything was.

The experience of walking through the markets reminded me of two memories.

One, walking through the markets of Hong Kong with my first cheating girlfriend. She had been a jeweler for almost a year, and so she asked one of the men standing on the street corner calling out brand names that she wanted to see his fake Rolex’s. He led us out the back of the building and up a side street to a near abandoned building. We thought for sure we were going to be robbed until the lift opened and out stepped some tourists. We went up to this small apartment, empty except for fake brands of all kind. An English tourist would not shut up, haggling with the guy who ran the place. She got her father a fake Rolex and we left.

The second memory is with my second cheating girlfriend. We walked through Camden markets together, looking at the bunched up stalls. We ate mini donuts and tried to see everything.

These memories remind me that I’ve had some good moments in my life. Fun, exciting moments.

I stand at a crossroads. I am already working against a stacked deck. I am fat, broke, I don’t have my life together, depressed. If I worked incredibly hard, I might (might) be able to piece together some semblance of a normal, happy life. The issue there was that I thought I had that. I thought I had reached a point when I had everything I wanted, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it from falling apart, in fact I probably helped to make it fall apart.

So I figure there’s option two. Like I’ve said, I’ve had some fun times. I’ve been with some beautiful ladies who, at the time, I loved with my entire heart. My heart still overflows with love, but I doubt anyone will be interested to receive it.

So I’ll spend my days doing the other two things I enjoy – eating and drinking. I will eat and drink whatever I want, become a glutton. I will literally eat and drink myself to death. It will be an early death, but not as early as the final option. I will live life for myself, by myself. I will remove myself from society, and I will fast track myself a heart attack. I will give up on comedy, because let’s face it I wasn’t going to make it anyway, and I will live the life of a hermit. I hope no-one tries to save me. That will be embarrassing for them. It’s not like anyone has ever tried to set me up with a friend of theirs anyway. I’m the type of person people enjoy in small doses, they don’t want to get to know too well as long as he makes people laugh, and who they wouldn’t inflict on their worst enemy.

People don’t want me when I’m fat. Fine, I’ll just run out the clock on my own.

Some people will be reading this, laughing at how dumb I sound. I understand. These are very self indulgent posts. I suppose I don’t really expect anyone to see them. Maybe someday there will be girls reading this who think that they dodged a bullet by rejecting me.

Can you imagine spending the rest of your life with this guy? Like my ex inferred, I’m basically just known as someone who won’t stop making stupid comments about everything.

 

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