Thursday, November 29, 2007

Some Exit

I want to fill a trash bag up with applesauce and throw it
at the windshield of a nice car. I feel that empty.
There's nothing else to do. I have been awake
when the sun rose the last three days in a row
but I didn't go out to watch the sunrise any of those times
because I did not want to see it.
The thing that I look forward to the most on almost every day
is seeing a number appear
next to the web browser tab for my Gmail Inbox
which signifies that I've received new mail,
though roughly 33% of those mails are advertisements
or mailing list memos or other crap.
I'm finding myself writing about nothing again
because that's the only thing achievable I can think to do.
Buying enough applesauce to fill a trash bag
would cost a lot of money
and would require getting up to leave the house.
There are probably more than 20,000 people
employed by applesauce making companies
in the United States alone.
The only other thing I use as much as my computer
is my cell phone,
though most of the time when it rings
I do not answer. Most of the time I
delete my voicemail without listening.
When people leave voicemail they usually say,
"This is _____. Call me back, please,"
instead of explaining the reason why they called.
Today I took a long bath in hot water
and read a book until my hands began to crack.
I read four chapters
of Stephen Dixon's newly released novel, MEYER,
and it made me feel depressed
and not interested in writing.
Some books make me feel not interested in writing
because I don't think I could ever say anything as good as them.
Some books make me feel not interested in writing
because it's hard enough to want to stand.
Right now I am getting some moderate amount of satisfaction
from typing plain statements into my web browser,
knowing that someone else might sometime read them,
or at least read the first few sentences.
I often scare myself by thinking that I don't know
how I'd stay sane without the internet.
As a child I played with plastic swords
and talked to myself aloud even more than I do now.
I have said all of this before in one way or another.
I will probably spend the rest of my life repeating.
Last night after the sun came up
I lay down on my bed and tried to think
about not thinking,
with my cell phone beside me on the pillow,
full of numbers, full of names.
And elsewhere, my name and number in others' phones,
so that at any time any one of many people might press a button
and make that pillow vibrate,
and spur the decay in my head.

12 comments:

Josh Maday said...

good words. sometimes things don't get all the way out the first few times you say them.

SarahJane said...

enjoyed this, in an appropriately depressingly subdued kind of way.

Kendra Grant Malone said...

the last sentence is fucking lovely blake.

your name rhymes with flake. thats all i can think when i hear the name blake. how does that make you feel, blake?

andrea hope berg said...

well... your blog makes me sad for you. you should read your bible.

andrea hope berg said...

or read my blog ... i think you would like it

Prathna Lor said...

your blog made me gay

jereme said...

I am curious just why Andrea is sad for Blake. I don't understand.

Blake is very successful and an upcoming powerhouse.

Did she not see his long list of published stories?

I did enjoy how her first (and honest) reaction was that she felt sadness for Blake but then her selfishness kicked in and she promoted her blog.

I really enjoyed Andrea's hubris. Her writing about God will bring you to absolution and then Blake will transcend his miserable life and become enlightened all by reading a blog where a girl runs her mouth about how everything she does is guided by God.

Because God is Andrea's personal trainer.

It must be nice to have God as a personal trainer.

Righteous and fulfilling.

Such fucking hubris.

Kendra Grant Malone said...

blake look what you've done to poor little prathna!

no wonder he loves shoes and andrew bird!

you've ruined him! imagine the suffering he will now endure on his quest for hot gay anal sex.

prantha, god lives in my asshole. come see the light of holiness. from behind, we all look the same my little dove.

andrea, eat a dick.

BLAKE BUTLER said...

jereme is a master.

thnx all.

prathna: soon i will have your teeth in a jar.

Prathna Lor said...

please be kind and use a wrench.

che said...

damn

che said...

i liked this a lot

if this comment is still here december 1, 2019 and i'm reading it: i want to do the applesauce thing

will like, make it my mission to do it

december 1, 2019

i'm going to set a gmail alert after i post this

pretty sure you are not going to see this comment for a long time, if at all

excited to know what i'm doing on dec 1, 2019 (as long as i use the same email and am not dead yet)

glad you're around, blake

-megan boyle