cellini's Diaryland Diary

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And long story short, seriously just kill me

Lauren invited me and the kids over on Wednesday. Mary wants me to come over 'for dinner' on Tuesday. Kerri wants to fuck on Monday.

Seriously, what the fuck? I just want one actual girlfriend who is wife potential. I've got one super-hot married chick, another one in her fifties whom I must not date again, and this third whom I can't tell if she wants to date me or just have play-dates with our kids.

I don't want to date. I don't want to fuck a different woman every day of the week. I just want one woman to wrap my life up with and fall asleep with every night. If Lauren wants to be that woman, I would prefer that she make her intentions clear.

A few weeks ago I decided to order some kratom. The whole point was to drink less. I have a tendency to drink a bunch of wine before going to sleep and its a bad direction. If I don't drink anything at all it tends to take me far too long to fall asleep.

The kratom works. In the sense that it acts like an opiate and has that dreamy thing happening and kills pain. But it turns out that it prevents sleep. One lays there high on that shit for hours without succumbing. Not what I am looking for.

I have foregone the stuff for the last few nights and will save it for times when I am in some sort of physical pain.

Meanwhile, I ordered some kava in hopes that it will suit me needs better.

Perhaps I am only an interesting person with excellent children whom Lauren wants to keep around for her daughter's sake. Perhaps her interest ends there.

My stock will both rise and drop when I am paid whatever I receive for this film. It will be somewhere between one and three million total in a deal with a network. I get ten percent of that (shitty deal, I know, I was in a hurry to make this film ASAP).

Between one and three hundred thousand dollars will allow me to re-start my life. Have a nice apartment or house downtown. A nice car.

On one hand, I will attract many women as a high-flying journalist and filmmaker with money to spend. On the other hand, I will tend to attract flatterers and hangers-on. Women whom I cannot trust.

Lauren appreciates success, but she is no fortune-hunter. She has her own.

Tomorrow night I fuck Kerri. She is entirely innocent. She represented herself as being married and polyamorous, and has been very good to me within the constraints of her situation. A few nights a week we go out together and it feels like having a girlfriend. I give her excitement, importance, social access.

I get along just fine with her husband.

She is a natural redhead with a full red bush. And she doesn't shave her pits, which I'm not a fan of but she's not my wife so I don't weigh in on that.

I don't know what I am supposed to say about Kerri. She is good. But she doesn't CREATE anything. She likes to play this game, Settlers of Kataan. She has hexagonal tattoos and similar motifs in her jewelry and furniture. She watches certain TV shows. Kerri is a consumer of things that other people create.

It feels really good to come inside her mouth and vagina. I like fucking her a lot. She is pretty, she has a figure like a model, she's intelligent and reasonably well-informed.

And yet even if she was single, I couldn't hold to her. Because she doesn't create anything. She doesn't have a thing that she is writing or producing or painting. How could I commit myself to a woman who makes NOTHING?

And that is a part of the terrible truth about Trish, my ex-wife.

She completely destroyed my life when she left. I lost my home and the house I was building and everything that we had worked to create together for 17 years.

Today, she is overweight and out of shape and dresses like she is 60. Her job is boring (administrative assistant at a transportation logistics company) There is nothing interesting or useful or productive about her. I am way, WAY the fuck out of her league.

Jesus fucking Christ, what a boring fucking sow.

I've written two published books, there's one feature film about me, I've written hundreds of articles for international publications including the NYT, WP and Smithsonian Magazine, delivered lectures at prestigious universities, guested on various TV shows and just written and produced a documentary film that reviewers have already pegged as next year's Academy Award for best documentary feature.

I am out of this asshole's league.

She is nothing.

My heart is broken, still, with my wife gone. It hurts every day like being dragged across broken glass. But this woman has done nothing. She is of no use to man or beast. I miss arranging the bookshelves with her. I miss setting out the china. I miss making a home together so much.

I am broken inside so profoundly. Every day I just want to go home.

She has created nothing. Written nothing, drawn nothing, painted nothing, recorded nothing. I suffered so much to take care of her. Every night for a month, I stayed up resetting a fuel pump on the oil furnace every fifteen minutes. EVERY FIFTEEN MINUTES. All fucking night. FOR A MONTH. I laid on dirty laundry sleeping for the few minutes I could before the alarm went off and I reset the primitive computer to keep my wife and children warm for another 15 minutes. And that was how I lived. I went to work every day and tried to smile and act like someone who was ok, but I was broken and collapsing.

She never once said 'thank you.' I just got more broken and more broken every day until I wanted to die.

I fucking hate her. I hate how she destroyed the life we worked so hard to make together. I hate what she did to us. To the idea of us, the padded bed-board and the dining room with the incense and the art on the walls in blues and reds to match the china and the theatrical monologues.

And I only wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I just wanted to do it with you. I set up my whole fucking life to spend forever with you. I did all this shit all around the world and I just wanted to come home to you. The whole fucking world watched everything I did and I just wanted to come home to my wife. And now I would just like you to FUCKING KILL ME and set me on fire.

11:45 p.m. - 2017-11-26

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