It was night time, but you couldn’t tell without looking at a watch. Standing in the middle of that place so many call sin city it makes you wonder just what kind of person you are. If this is the city that so many have dreamed of visiting and taking in the night life. If New York is the city that never sleeps, then Las Vegas is the city that sleeps only by day, if ever.
So filled with sex and alcohol and gambling, it’s hard to mind where you’re going. The stroboscopic lights and the never ending noise from the slot machines distract you from the drunks, the retirees, the decadent addicts.
It was walking through the insides of these city that I realized what the problem with me is. It was looking at the waitresses and the hostesses and the strippers that I finally came across an answer that had been eluding me in one way or another for years. I came to the conclusion that I think too much. I think way too much about everything. About lights and games and people and stairs and elevators and beds and condoms and books and t-shirts and people not wearing shirts and cocktails and coke and diet coke and Coca-Cola.
Discoveries lead to more discoveries and this unquenchable thirst for knowledge can keep you awake at night if you’re not careful. It will definitely keep you awake during the day, no matter what you do.
This happened when I realized that I did not like gambling. This happened when I realized I don’t like Strip clubs or drinking or making out with strangers, leave alone having sex with strangers, because I think too much.
This happened when I made my new rules of dating that included no tattoos, no excessive piercings and no permanent phobias. No problematic brothers and sisters, no kids and no psycho ex-boyfriends. Not overly pretty and not overly ugly and not overly over weight and not overly under weight. Not too talkative but not too quiet either. Plus, she can’t know how to dance. I hate it when a girl knows how to dance and then wants me to dance and then discovers that I’m really bad at it with no possible chance of getting better and I feel like I’ve let her down.
Then I realized that girl does not exist, because I’m such a pessimist motherfucker and there’s no such thing as the perfect girl.
I realized that girl does not exist because I think too much. Because when I’m walking in Las Vegas or anywhere for that matter all I can think about is some girl I just saw and how maybe I should just go talk to her and ask her if she lives where I live. I know she doesn’t but still I can’t shake the thought that maybe she’s the last girl who will ever make brief eye contact with me. this is because I think too much.
I realized I think too much because when I walk through a crowd I can see no good reason to talk anybody because I’m always living in the future and I know there’s no case on doing anything because in the grand scheme of things we’re all going to die. And if we’re all going to die then that means that nothing we do will make any difference in the grand scheme of things and we’re all destined to fall into oblivion.
And it’s hilarious because my friends are always thinking about sex and how they really like the body of this girl or that other girl and how they want to fuck her, and I just cannot think that. Naked bodies for the sake of naked bodies do not arouse me or make me horny or make me want to have sex. They only make me want to go somewhere else.
When I think about girls I think not about their bodies or the way they move, other than in a romantic way. I hate it. I cannot like a girl if I do not sense some kind of energy coming from her. I hate that. I cannot be sexually attracted to any girl if I have not made at least a little conversation with her first.I cannot simply sit on a chair and watch her take her clothes off and automatically be aroused. it just doesn’t happen, because I think too much.
I can’t shake any thought from my mind. The demons I have inside are the same demons I had inside when I was sixteen, only they’ve been joined by new ones. Demons like growing up and getting taller and getting girls to date me and getting girls to stop dating me and wondering why this or other girl won’t date me. Well fuck, most of my thoughts revolve around girls.
Of course I also think about flying and playing better music and writing better poetry and reading more books and making somebody finally like me just because I’m there and not because all this shit I do like writing and telling jokes and appearing happy when inside I’m just fucking desperate for attention. I think too much about who I am and I don’t write enough about what I think because I still can’t write and walk at the same time, but I’m working on it.
Nikolas Murdock Is Probably Hiding 