Living In This Body

It’s become very apparent to me the exact nature of one’s actions is virtually unknown in origin. Sometimes we lie to protect ourselves or someone else. Sometimes we lie to get away with something. Sometimes we lie because we can’t think of the truth, or that the truth is not that interesting…

It is the human condition that is fallible, you know? Not the human. If we go against societal norms even just a little we might be ostracized or punished. Though usually it is in our own heads this occurs. As a society of hate mongering war children who know nothing truly except to win at everything and destroy those on our paths in the name of “civilized society” we are taught to believe that being a certain kind of person is the only way to be. And where does all of this go? Finance, Romance, and Security.

For everyone of the three things will build us up or destroy us at every turn.We cannot live with or without some kind of aspect of all these things, and it is amazing to watch man inevitably tear his soul to shreds for one or all of these things. I too have my battles with external forces. I too fear I will not have enough or that what I have may be taken. It is human to be breakable. But being broken does not mean you’re trash. Being broken simply means there might be a way to be fixed.

Like that saying goes “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”, well by design a human can fix him or her self. Being breakable does not mean you will break but when you do, you can heal.

Sometimes late at night after I write all the important stuff for the day, fool around on Face Book, fuck off a little more, I get to this point of exhaustion that leaves me almpost over the edge of paradoxical thinking and emptimindedness, though, in my case, “non-thinking” is almost an impossibility. So instead I think about the people in my life and what characters they are. The musicians and the bar staff, the friends at the pizza joint, the brothers I have with or wothout arms. The lovers, the past ones, the future ones, the children, the movies the life experiences.You know, the things that make life happen.

And I wonder why people are so afraid. And how did they get where they are? And why I am not afraid. I know the path I have walked down is not for the faint of heart, but let’s face it, at least it wasn’t rally like walking, I was usually dancing, really.

Maybe that’s a glass half full kind of deal, but man, is there really any other way?

Love is Not a Battlefield, It’s a Casino

As I could go on for days about the intricate inner workings of the term “relationship” and the bastardization of this term that occurs in our culture, based solely on a person’s own self centered needs at any given time or location, I will not.
I could talk about how people pretend to want less or more from someone else depending on their own personal gain. Again, at any given time in said person’s current state of self seeking situation.
I could even talk about things like “casual sex” or “meaningless sex” or “hanging out”. Or any similar term used to describe whatever act two people choose to engage in at any given time in their personal self seeking situation.
I could talk about how it is impossible for a person to go on for more than a short period of time engaging in relationships based solely on sex without one or both parties being affected.
I could discuss possible ways for this type of behavior to last but it seems there might be a lot of eventual soul killing. The kind that dies in the strip club. Or the dive bar. It’s the kind of soul killing that occurs after copious amounts of drugs are ingested. Or when repeated demoralization occurs within the the psyche.
I could talk about how a true partnership begins and ends with honesty. Ahhh, but this is a contradiction to some, as it is in fact possible to be in an honest casual relationship. Isn’t it?
Where does love play a role? Is it love for one’s self or love for another? Or both?
And where is the line, and how does one know when it has crossed? Is that the point that many of us step back and draw another line? This is the point where one decides to be okay with things they are not okay with. We like to pretty it up and call it compromise.
This is the part where the boundary line ends and the compromise line begins. Such a nice way to say “no wait, I don’t want to be alone so I guess you can do “X”. I’ll be okay with it”.
But many people are not okay and they hold on to that later for fuel. Ammo, facts.
Ahhh relationships. So much fun they are. Where you cannot decide where to begin and end with anything and nothing starts and everything finishes and there is no one to blame but you.
The moral of this story? Well, it’s probably that most of us have fewer morals than we want to admit. And until we do, we will have even fewer.
My two cents. However faulty.

I Am A Whore.

Don’t stop. Keep running in a circle. Keep kicking them when they are down. Shut your mouth. Stand up straight. Do your part. Fix the problem. Run the show. Take a number. Wear this dress. Look this way. Act like you care.

Act like it matters. Pretend you give a shit. But don’t fuck up. Do your work. Check your sources. Do the dishes. Don’t talk.

For God’s sake DON’T SAY ANOTHER WORD!

No more talking leads to more fucking and yelling and more running.It leads to the exact nature of humanity.

Tell me everything’s going to be alright. Tell me you will be my hero and I will melt away like some fairytale princess who found her prince. And when everything goes south I will blame you for lying and betraying my trust.

That is my lie.

And when I make mistakes I will defend them with all my might, and you will somehow be wrong. And when you are wrong I will make sure you know it and I will point out flaws. I will forget to tell you your assets and I will ignore it somehow when you tell me mine. Your opinion only sort of matters. But it matters; I swear.

Did you know you have beautiful eyes? No, I never heard that one. Next you’ll say I am great kisser. Yeah, thanks, I’ve been practicing. I’ve been a whore for years.

Don’t kid yourself. It is all an assembly line. A turning wheel that never stops as long as the oil gets used. And I use it. I use people. I use toys and boys and flowers and manipulation and common sense and I stare at it all on a 17 inch computer screen until I go blind. I watch the price of gold and the pendulum swings and I am then the proud owner of the biggest pile of plastic McDonald’s kid’s toys you can imagine.

They tell us what they want. We listen long enough to look like we care. They tell us how to feel. I feel what is appropriate at the most inappropriate times. Shoot the bullets. Play the game, Dance the dance. I make up my own steps. I pretend to watch. I pretend to live. I pretend to try to love again. Or first.Or ever.

I am a child of God no less.

All the things I believe make no sense. And the kingdom of rain is my cross to bear. All of the ideas I once had do nothing but sit on the closet shelf in a box. And they rust and dust and sit. Motionless.

Waiting for me to open the lid.

Waiting for me.

Always waiting for me.

I am you. I am the earth and all it’s might and weakness rolled into a woman’s body. A goddess of destruction and growth. A pleaser of man and woman and child alike. I am real. I can be touched. I am human.

Do you lie?

So this is my opinion.  I really don’t like being honest. I mean by default and conscience I am honest, but man is it easy to get out of stuff by saying “I’m busy” or “I have to do something with the kids”.  Sometimes I think I am the only person who is so self absorbed that she would rather lie than to tell the truth just to get out of mundane things that are of little or no interest whatsoever. The problem is that about 5 years ago I started feeling guilty ever time I lied.  I couldn’t look folks in the eye or they would know.  In actuality, I am grateful for that because there is just so little stress over lying these days.  

Like today I told a friend that a mutual friend of ours and her boyfriend were introduced to one another by me. A little while later I realized that was bull shit. I did not introduce these two lovebirds, I did, however, convince her to date him.  So odd. Why did I lie.  That particular thing is like no big deal but it’s eating me up because I feel so bad about lying.

Please understand I am no saint.  I have been and seen LOTS of interesting things in my lifetime and I would like to say I have learned from and experienced great lessons to further my knowledge and wisdom as I age.  But as dishonest as I wish I was, I just can’t lie.  It’s like pinochio except that the proverbial nose only grows in my mind.  

Any thoughts?  Do you do things just because?  Tell me a little story about your experience with this or any other moral issues. Am I the only one out there who admits this? (I doubt it)