As I read through, all I can picture is you and your whirlwind of a love life. Girl this to girl that, and the messes never seem to get cleaned.
Almost everything about Chinaski reminds me of you. He reminds me of how you deal with your shit and how you handle things when they do not go your way. When things blow up, you do not do anything about it. You do not accept anything and it is always easier to find an escape or something new. The drinking, the self-pity, the fucking. Except, Chinaski whines less, keeps to himself more. Tries less.
Chinaski does not have a single clean end from his women. They all get tangled up in his life. Everybody falls in love and he falls in love or he thinks he falls in love and the women always seem to be yelling about how he does not give a fuck and that his words never mean anything. But Chinaski, the cynic that he is, just wants love. It is supposed to be that simple, but it is not. It's not as if there is no one for him to love, but there is everyone for him to love. He almost cannot choose. The abundance is a problem. Or when things are going just smoothly, something else will mess it up. He will find a reason for it not to be enough. He'll think something else will make him happier. He'll think someone else will make him feel better. But he never really knows anything.
But I do still like Chinaski. Even the good things about him remind me of you. He can be very passionate and very sincere. He made his women feel good inside, like he had everything to offer them. He even had the easy charm that you seem to give off. The charm that never really made sense at first glance. I mean, Chinaski is 50something years old and women half his age want him. Needless for any seduction. Women half his age fall for him and according to the book, only the good looking ones pine for him AND cuts his list. For someone who is so much older and not a first glance looker, he is big fucking pimpin'. The women that seem out of his league are always right at his feet, in his house, on his bed, or him on their beds. Amazing. You even give off the same charm.
I keep waiting for the moment that Chinaski no longer reminds me of you. But the more I read, the more I find faint traces of you in reading this book. It is kind of annoying because I do not want to imagine you as Henry Chinaski. But unfortunately, you are the picture that appears in my imagination. The tortured. The almost helpless. The aimless. The always searching. The escaping. And the discontent, oh the discontent.
Almost everything about Chinaski reminds me of you. He reminds me of how you deal with your shit and how you handle things when they do not go your way. When things blow up, you do not do anything about it. You do not accept anything and it is always easier to find an escape or something new. The drinking, the self-pity, the fucking. Except, Chinaski whines less, keeps to himself more. Tries less.
Chinaski does not have a single clean end from his women. They all get tangled up in his life. Everybody falls in love and he falls in love or he thinks he falls in love and the women always seem to be yelling about how he does not give a fuck and that his words never mean anything. But Chinaski, the cynic that he is, just wants love. It is supposed to be that simple, but it is not. It's not as if there is no one for him to love, but there is everyone for him to love. He almost cannot choose. The abundance is a problem. Or when things are going just smoothly, something else will mess it up. He will find a reason for it not to be enough. He'll think something else will make him happier. He'll think someone else will make him feel better. But he never really knows anything.
But I do still like Chinaski. Even the good things about him remind me of you. He can be very passionate and very sincere. He made his women feel good inside, like he had everything to offer them. He even had the easy charm that you seem to give off. The charm that never really made sense at first glance. I mean, Chinaski is 50something years old and women half his age want him. Needless for any seduction. Women half his age fall for him and according to the book, only the good looking ones pine for him AND cuts his list. For someone who is so much older and not a first glance looker, he is big fucking pimpin'. The women that seem out of his league are always right at his feet, in his house, on his bed, or him on their beds. Amazing. You even give off the same charm.
I keep waiting for the moment that Chinaski no longer reminds me of you. But the more I read, the more I find faint traces of you in reading this book. It is kind of annoying because I do not want to imagine you as Henry Chinaski. But unfortunately, you are the picture that appears in my imagination. The tortured. The almost helpless. The aimless. The always searching. The escaping. And the discontent, oh the discontent.
