My Compass is Crooked

I feel so unnecessary some days...an invalid in a valid world.  Imagine if you will an entire day spent as a fraud, a fake, a phony.  It's as though there is not an original thought in my head.  I exist as a fleshy regurgitation machine, spouting nonsense in sensical text so those valids around me can understand and tolerate.  Although, I haven't been spending too much time around originality lately so they probably wouldn't notice if I just began to spew absurd lyrics of a troubled soul in replace of my well-thought and preplanned organized bullshit.  I am a tape recorder sending out my message born of others' messages;  things I've heard, seen, done and had done to me.  I no longer create, but recapitulate.  I listen to those around me, attempting to discern the liars from reality...it gets more and more difficult everyday as I become one of them. I am a dissident forced into a poser frame, lying to myself and others.  They don't matter so much cuz they don't realize it anyway.  I do.  I see that I suck.  I can't quite figure it though...the changing part.  How to erupt from this shell, this casing of safety and be the person I was meant to be.  Quizzes abound and still no path to follow.  There is something in me that needs to get out...not like Alien, not evil anyway...that would be awesome though.  Maybe that's the only way growth happens.  It's not slow or progressive at all, but explosive and disgusting and sequels filled with Sigourney Weaver.  I love her, she's so weird.  What would be in charge then?  Who would run the show I call a life?  The way I live now...just isn't enough.  I am missing passion, excitement, fulfilment.  You should be able to have a taste of those every day.  I despise pretending like I'm happy.  Like what I do matters.  Why is the first question we ask anyone upon first meet, "What do you do?"  That is who we are.  That is depressing.  I may have hobbies, things that spur about my creative poser, but I spend more time working than all else.  I've chosen stability and money over value.  I don't value either of those things, and yet I choose them over spontaneity, freedom, intensity and stimulation EVERY time.  That makes no sense.  Nonsense.

Benefits of Being Gross

I long for the day that I will meet another human being(man wise) who loves my revolting ways;  Someone who not only tolerates, but appreciates the idiosyncratic behavior that makes me...me.  I would like to come home at two-twenty-five in the morning, stand precariously over a boiling pot of ichi-ban while stuffing my salivating yapper with Reese's pieces(stopping only momentarily to scarf down the little bastards that awkwardly fall to the floor), and have my lover say, "Fuck You're Beautiful..."  without a trace of sarcasm, my stupidly grinning face covered in salt, sugar and a little sadness, smiling foolishly.  Then I see men in their natural habitat: Screaming drunkenly from patios with beer in hand and intelligence lost at my friend and I as we simply pass by.  That's all it takes.  We are duck hunt targets acquired through a narrow scope(tits=female) and the onslaught of berating and degenerative remarks ensues.  What happened to conversation?  Buying a gal a drink and romancing her with your wit and humor?  Communication is a foreign entity in this techno saturated age.  I wish a dude would just fucking talk to me.  No pretense, no hollering, no offensive remarks intended to seduce my insecurity and send me streaming back to your illiterate arms...I want to be stimulated goddammit.  I want to be gross and have you aroused by the simple fact that I've responded to you in the way that I have.  I want you to look into my gaping and vulnerable face, see that I have substance and seduce me like you really give a fuck...no games, no falseness...just candor and rooted affection.  I despise tactics and long for effort.  I try every moment to be better...where is my equal?  My earnest partner in crime and vulgarity...I'll just get a dog and we can shit on doorsteps together.

WILD RAVAGED BEAST

There was a time when I had reasonable exchanges with others.  I can't think of one just now, but I know they occurred.  I miss those days of thinking the best of people, acting with grace and joy, and having those components of fulfillment returned to me.  Where did the days go where manners, courtesy, patience and compassion, however fleeting, ran rampant in the streets instead of screaming, swearing cunts who spew misery like infectious disease; incurable and sour.  I love to bike.  I go everywhere.  If you have read previous posts, you'll know my disdain however, for underpasses.  The roads are rarely safe for us lone two wheelers and underpasses are murder death kill.  I avoid them and on this particular balmy September afternoon was to be no different.  I should have risked death over my next experience.  I come upon this woman on the sidewalk, overweight, smelling of whatever dull job she suffers through, sauntering right dab in the center.  Me, being the courteous and self aware individual I have become, slowed down, climbed the grassy knoll parallel to the walking whale(I take that back, whales are far more peaceful.), and calmly announced that she was in the middle of the sidewalk...perhaps she had forgotten she lived in a city with a cool million.  Her response was of course sheepish apology, a smile, slight wave and grateful acknowledgement of her oversight.  That, in a reasonable world is what should have happened.  Like a wild, ravaged beast, this woman pawed the ground with her massive cracked and feces laden hoof, snarled and snorted all the air from her heaving, sweaty chest and spit the words "FUCK YOU" into my unsuspecting face.  Slowly rolling past, hardly phased for I expect awful behavior from all adults at all times, I proceeded to flip her off as the beast reared her giant greasy head in a continued rant soaked in cuss words and stinking saliva.  I forget sometimes that other people are around when deep in thought.  Therefore I keep to the right to allow others(even dreaded cyclists) to pass unimpeded.  Courtesy, thoughtfulness, nonexistent.  I wasn't rude, but man did she go there.  For some time too, screaming nonsense at me as I sped away.  Then I spent the next twenty minutes seething about what I should have said/done and my glorious fresh air bike ride was hindered briefly.  Briefly is too much time wasted on such an individual.  I seemingly ruined her day and her mine.  Why did I let it?  Well, it saddens me the state of things, especially in a city.  I miss the days of others always giving one the right of way.  Days of smiles and hellos when one passes by.  I do not miss honking out of impatience, angry retorts when clearly not provoked, degrees of emotion consisting only of anger, angrier and blame.  We blame one another for everything all of the time.  Won't someone take responsibility for being a fucking prick, apologize and get over it?  Nope.  We honk back, screaming at our passengers how idiotic the other guy is and hold on to hatred and fault for a lifetime.  I'm going to be a puppy when I grow up.  They only know hunger, smell, poop, and love.  Dogs love everything, everyone.  Bounding and frolicking about in a grassy place with their dutiful owners keeping an eye  Diligently unaware, blissful with the sensory world and...SQUIRREL!!!