Don’t be a side character in your own life.
“I just have… so many thoughts!” I said, turning to my unseen confidant.
My confidant and confessor (a she, I sensed) sat silently to my right draped in black veils and dark robes.
My hands smooth up my face and my thumbs slide to my temples as I lightly massage my head with my fingers, combating the tendrils of stress winding through my skull.
And there are so many thoughts… how can I possibly write them all down or track them for posterity.
My silent companion didn’t move, in a stillness most artificial. I suddenly wondered, a tendril of thought, whether she was the harbinger.
And my dream spiraled away…
It’s those moments. Those small actions that harken back to memories of pain.
I was puttering along and had to resist a chuckle at these bumper stickers.
The first sticker that caught my eye was:
I Used Up All My Sick Days: So I Called In Dead
Symbolic of unsympathetic authority, demanding your presence at every second of every day. Report to work, report to school, report to retirement, report IN.
I used to waste time wondering why.
Why you so mad?
So consumed by the litter
You toss around from your mouth?
Why can’t you just chill?
Take a pill
Drink some water
Or some shit, whichever
But, nah!!! I’ve got better things to do with my life.
Better things than ponder your strife,
Wondering why you need a victim
To feel venerated
Why you feel vindicated
On the backs of those you label slaves.
Why you’ll never feel elevated
Unless you’re dragging someone down.
Nope. I’ve got better things to do with my life than wonder why you’re fucking up yours.
I’m not your therapist. So fuck off.
I don’t have expectations
They trap you with rigidity
And lack of adaptability.
What would you do
For your expectations?
“Because of you I disconnect,
This life is all that’s left for me
Because of you I disconnect;
I’m killing you now”
Sometimes I wonder who I would have been.
- If I had been raised like a “normal” kid
- If I hadn’t lost my innocence so soon
- If I had been raised in a different religion
- If I had been born in a different region
- If I had been of a different ethnicity
- If I had been of a different gender…
But I am who I am. And I have to make the most of that.
Prepping for Xmas
Decking all the halls,
Eternal Xmas songs;
Why can’t I escape,
This spending fiasco?
I just wanted a break,
And time to chill at home;
Instead the tortured Santa Claus
Done cracked the piggy bank. Oh!
Solo time, solo time, Xmas, winter break!
Peaceful quiet, holy night -yeah, whate’er! git off my lawn!
Skip Thanksgiving. Straight to Xmas.
Ghastly blinking lights, air filled dolls, looping peppermint, dead trees. Tis the season to slay the electric bill, the pine tree, the accumulated financials.
If I wanted to celebrate the holidays appropriately, I’d lit a fire and toss my money into the flames. Gonna waste it all anyway, may as well be warm with it…
I suppose I’m fortunate. My family doesn’t celebrate “pagan” holidays so I don’t need to peel off dollar bills like a reverse stripper to make them happy. The one time their extremes save me money…
Or, I can save up for the tax season! #MatureAdult
So, unlike much of the world, I’ll be glowering at the wrapped presents and the Santa Claus -who’s in danger of a heart attack if he even lifts one tiny package. The forced labor of little people is not amusing. The deforestation isn’t “fun”.
And don’t jab me in the eye with that striped peppermint contraption.
‘Bout the only good thing about this time of year is eggnog.
Not saying you shouldn’t enjoy your holiday. You do you.
But, for the love of all that is unholy, turn the damn carols off!!!
It still feels surreal, these gray skies and salt crusted roads.
Veer off this beaten path and land into a hidden dell, deserted by nature, oppressed by the wintery fist of iron and ice.
The fallen snow, mostly melted, flank the barren trees huddled in shame at their seasonal nudity. The celebration of gold, bronze, and copper festival scarves has faded into the barren starkness of whip-like branches combing the frigid wind with the desperate clutch of a frantic person as their partner leaves them for the last time.
Only the prickly pines retain their clothed dignity, Continue reading Winter is
People in life are very centered on self. How they’re feeling, or not. How their day is going, or not. How life is going, or ending, or beginning.
It’s. Always. About. Them.
And being in a relationship is kinda about two -or more- people committing to making it about each other. Listening, supporting, building, analyzing if necessary. Asking tough questions, being the shoulder to cry on, the arms to hold, the quiet cuddle at the end of a long day.
Frankly, I am cynical about the possibility of the longevity of relationships.
I only strive to learn in order to do the best I can when I do find one. Emphasize the importance of trust and communication, establish expectations on both sides, have flexibility for days, and, in the end, be a good partner in the relationship.
A relationship is also about a certain measure of selflessness.
And independence, self-assurance, identity… all the units necessary for a person to be. And if something is missing, there is hope that the relationships will support the development of these.
Hence the allure of romance. One or more parties lack, together they receive, develop, grow.
But I digress.
This is really about you.