To The Meat

I scratch at his flesh and it opens like a gaping wound of nothing and silence.  There exists tissue and muscles, veins and sinew.  I scratch harder, deeper, longing to unearth something more.  I reach bone and it just is.  He just is.  He's like the rest.  He's just like the rest.  Easy.  Simple.  No resounding discovery of mysterious delights.  He says and does what one should.  He's honest.  He's kind.  And it bores me.  In fact, I find it almost grotesque how unaffected I am by his sweet, transparent ways.  He wants what I'm sure we all think we want.  He has his identity set to fact and relishes the incomplex.  I should want this.

Then I scratch you.   I dig and I plunge my hands inside of you and I rip you to shreds and what do I find?  You bleed.  Scarlet, substantial, and full of secrecy.  You bleed and bleed and I have yet to reach bone or tissue or normal things found in the human man.  You are rare.  You do not bore me.  I could descend into you and fade out before ever reaching the truth.  I find this so exciting.  You excite me.  You stimulate a part of me I thought I had eradicated.  I feel like the person I was suppose to be around you.

Alas, I cannot be with you.  You are not mine to have.  I will suffer and wither.  Alone.

A Cruel Joke

You told me I smelled of strawberries
and looked beautiful in the sun
grasping through the open window.

Then conversation turned abruptly
and you confessed that you were
betrothed to another.

The body reacted before the brain
could conceive.
Such an unexpected reaction of
lust and regret.

I was a big bird in a small cage.
Then freed by the beauty in
your words and the touch so
serene.

You remind me of possibility,
how can I be asked to let that go?
Please don't ask.

I watched you enter the orange room
and the din disappeared.  Your people
were there as were mine but all went
with the depth in your eyes.

Timing kept us apart and now circumstance,
so what now lover?  Can you come over?
I will swim in your eyes, feast on your flesh
and drown in your words.

The you will return to the one before me
and I will be bones and skin and nothing
no more.

Anti Protest, Protest

People will march tomorrow.  Several thousand people will protest the state of things and convince themselves of progress.  This is unskilled thinking.  To remove one evil to be rapidly replaced by another.  We are in this now.  The most absurd and laughable leader has been chosen.  It is done.  I understand the sadness.  The shock.  The unwillingness to accept.  The problem now is not what's done.  No amount of dissent will save us now because of our inability to accept the true nature of what is.  We did this.  We created this with our apathy, our hatred, our fear.  We brought this to be because of our externalization of reality.  The new *gulp* president merely embodies how messed the world has become under our dutiful watch...when we're not on our cell phones, computers and generally ignoring one another.  We have forced the hands that guide us by electing a man to power whom only serves one man.  We wanted an answer.  A quick fix to a delicate and intrinsic tangle.  It serves no one but oneself to protest and march and chant and rally.  We do this because we are at a loss as to what to do.  None of us truly understands how to 'fix' the world or to make existence 'better'.  So we cry out in divided unison.  We cry out to be seen, to be heard, to be felt.  It serves the one and only one.

I protest on the inside.  I challenge internally how I turn so quickly to judgement when I could show a glimmer of compassion.  I disapprove of my actions if they resemble disrespect to a fellow man regardless of race, creed, colour or sex.  I question my speech if it offends or portrays anything but empathy.  I choose not to protest a broken leader in an inefficient system out of a mock sense of self righteous indignation.  I could pretend that the leadership is the problem and not the reasons behind why this particular leader is now ours to endure.  I could pick a side and bury my head in the deep end of the sandbox with images of what grand deeds shall be accomplished.  I could put on airs that I know the answer and write a smarmy blog post proving such.  Or I could just do the best I can everyday.  For nearly most of us, that's all anyone is trying to do.  So let's support one another in that!  Regardless of where your vote led, let us be there for one another.  Enough torturing one another with endless debate over who is right and whose a racist.  This is a game for which you both look like assholes.  Turn awareness inward, silence the ego for just long enough to hear what needs to be done.  We only serve to entrench ourselves in disillusioned dialogue that will never provide the remedy.  Pick your feet up not to march but to take you to someone in need of a hug.  Open your mouth not to scream a pithy rhyme but to say a consoling word to someone in need.  Spread your fingers wide not to hold a sign within them but to wave hello to a passer-by.  It sounds small and insignificant and myopic, maybe.  If we are incapable of beginning with you and I, I fear we will be consumed by the hallucination that seems to fit and not the one we design.

Anti or Pro?

Our ego enjoys the juicy nosh on controversial subjects.  We love to pick a side and chew on the remains of the day.  It's so lovely to debate.  It's so satisfying to see the glint of discord in a fellow beings eyes when you've 'trumped' his opinion for yours.  Which of course is the only true and just opinion to have.  Your opinion has been mulled over and thought upon at great lengths.  You've probably spent a fair amount of energy researching why you're so very correct.  But that's the just of it.  It is just your opinion.  The universe doesn't care about what you think is right, or fair or just.  Wars have been waged over what is thought to be right and fair and just versus the other guys opinion to the opposite.  People are dying everyday over what one believes in friction to another.  Often times the ones so content to be right are the most violent and toxic people this world has ever known.

I ask of you, in what revolution has one ever found success?  In the history of mankind, there is not one.  Real and lasting change does not come from rioting, rallying, nor masses gathering in peaceful outrage.  The Vietnam war did not cease to be because of protests.  Monk self-immolation and the Kent State four did not sway those in power to cease and desist.  These tragedies were mere dramatic epilogues in a beast too large to fell.  Women suffrage did not occur through numbers even though we had them.  It came to pass through the democratic process of lobbying and petition.  The Civil Rights Movement is still moving through years of bloodshed, destruction and disillusionment.

So now I remain confused.  I have been invited to participate in the March of Women to protest Trumps' Inauguration.  Why?  This will not alter the past nor steer the future to a more positive outcome...whatever that means.  It means that a bunch of people will be 'seen' as activists.  Some wonderful photos will be taken and everyone will pat the other's ego in a 'Mission Accomplished' type scenario.  Not only will the foe of today's fight be quashed but the ego can now rest assure that the right side has won out against evil and tyranny once more.  This is a dangerous game to be playing at.  To vilify the other has never gotten society anywhere but deeper into the pit of distraction and dis-ease.  We divert attention to things we 'feel' matter when in reality, this is not so.  The reality isn't that Trump is going to be the leader of the free world although, that is for sure happening regardless of protest.  The reality is that society is crumbling at a ferocious rate and the population is disillusioned and dissatisfied with life as we know it.  People are out of work.  Homelessness, illness, climate change, pollution, rape, inequality...this is the reality faced by so many.  Instead of addressing these real and tangible problems, we obsess over an ineffectual political leader.  Do we obsess because we have no idea how to actually help one another and our planet?  Are we so lazy and self concerned that a 'March' is what will suffice as actual change?  Would we rather debate until our eyes glaze over and mouths turn purple then effect true societal and humanitarian arising?

Civil, Racial and Equal Rights are not going to regress because of the carnage about to enfold in the White House.  They regress because we distract ourselves into thinking about the unreality of nature and forget that we are in control over how we treat one another and the planet every moment of every day.  It's dangerous to think that choosing a side on any matter is going to solve the problem.  We must look deeper.  Deep into our own consciousness to realize that change begins in our thoughts and that leads to correct action.  The ego must not be our guide if we are to survive on this rocket ship around the sun.  I cannot help another if I'm caught in the story I want to tell myself about what is good and what is bad.  Such dialogue leads to picking a side and blaming the other.  Turn the blame inward and that's when real progress begins.

P.S If any reader thinks this was pro or anti Trump in any way...give your head a shake.  The two brain cells remaining may rub together causing enough friction for a fire and rid us of your stupidity.  

To All My Single Ladies

Yes.  I am aware that I berated Bey in a previous blog post;  The irony is not lost.  What can I say?  She is nothing if not popular.  This entry is dedicated to all my single ladies struggling out there with the opposite sex.  In my nearly 35 years in this form, I have learned a few things.  Literally, three.  Here they are, in no particular order:

Number One:  Eye contact is essential for letting know your beau that you're into him.  I have a hard time with this as eyes are the windows to the...so forth.  He needs to make contact with you.  You need to be vulnerable and comfortable enough with your vulnerability to let him see it, judge it and then want to get all up in it.  I put up resistance because I fear my weirdness won't be accepted.  I'm not special in this regard but it makes me feel so saying it aloud.

Number Two:  Don't be weird.  I mean, we all be weird.  But monitor your brain shit before speaking or acting.  My brain shit is constantly running turbo charged around a track built of insecurity, scrutiny and double-think.  I second guess every thought, action, and anything that enters my orbit during this absurd and self sabotaging time.  I do it to myself.  Also, not special but I'm in progress and denial is not conducive to change.  Calm down the stupid self defeating lies you tell yourselves and be responsible for your awesome.  There's some in there.  Quit burying it.

Number Three:  Don't bring another dude around even if he's only your dick-mate.  Let's be real.  Sometimes that's all a person is in your life.  Own it.  Don't introduce penis to love interest.  Any man worth his salt will either see it as a game and revolt against you and your juvenile tactics.  Or, he will sense dick, think you're taken and move on.  I've fucked up doing this.  I know in my head and heart that walking sex toy is not the guy for me but the guy for me doesn't know this.  He can't read minds, yet, and there won't be time enough in the world for you to clarify.  I know my patience is short.  No self respecting human is gonna wait around for you to fuck another.

There you have it girls.  The Great and Powerful OZ has spoke.  Go forth and be righteous.  

The Boy With The Neck Tattoo

I met a young man last eve that had a tattoo strategically placed on his throat.  Right under his chin.  Over top the ol' Adams' apple.  It looked pretty cool in all actuality.  However, he seemed perturbed that my friend and I were so engrossed in his explanation as to why that particular placement of his body art.  He didn't have one.  I interrupted at one point to save the scrambling child as he "uh-ed" and "uhm-ed" his way through some kind of cobbled together response.  

I interjected with, "It's about the experience, right?"  My friend mentioned being addicted to the pain of the experience and he shut her down rather quickly with an alarming amount of huff.  He began to get offended that we were asking him so many questions, all be it pseudo drunken ones.  We were curious about his intentions and my friend has an excellent nose for bullshit.  He was indeed full to the brim with the shit of the bull.  He feigned boredom at our inquiries because he had no idea why he did what he did.  Inflicting a large symbol for the entire world to see for the rest of your life is a bold and perhaps, courageous statement?  He clearly did the deed to garner attention for it and nothing more.  Tribesmen in Africa receive markings to mark moments in their history and hunting past.  It tells another person who this fucker is and what they've experienced.  This young man's neck art was not this.  Perhaps for him it captured a moment in space and time but shouldn't that then be something you hold near and dear to your heart and keep for yourself.  And then for those deemed worthy enough to view and share in it someday, you unveil the 'truthiness' of your very essence.  My body art is for me.  Always has been.  I capture things that are important life lessons.  Or I honour my ancestors with body homage.  I don't just throw some weird design on my body all willy nilly for all the world to see because it's trendy or will get me laid.  It made me sad really that this poor sap in his youth made such an ultimate choice and had no idea why.  Cuz it was cool, or like...whatever.  He had no bearing or sense of the impact that this choice would make on his life forever.  

Sure the world has become much more accepting about individuality but at what cost?  Now we have a generation of humans doing things just to do them.  Not connected to their choices in any real way, but you only get one, right?  A generation of vapid people showing off in drunken settings to pick up the opposite sex.  I for one would rather go fuck myself than a brainless, vacuous shell of a creature with no soul covered from head to toe with symbols void of substance.   

 

Moments of Clarity

Back in my day, people did what they say they would do.  You would tell another human being something and then, miraculously, you would do that thing.  Be it, show up when you'd say you would.  Or!  Surprisingly!  Do what you said you'd do.  Even if time had passed when you said it.  Even if something you deemed 'better' came along in the interim.  You would fucking say something and then take action in that department.  Is that called follow-through?  Fucking integrity?  Where has that gone?

People say things now.  People say a lot of things now.  There is no action.  There is no follow-through.  There is no "word" anymore.  There is just texting or messaging lame excuses that are so transparent it hurts and then nothing.  Then there is nothing.  I am a lost and forgotten fool in a sea of wandering minds and losers.  When I say I'm going to do something, I do it.  It's that simple.  Now, when things are said, buyer prepare to be tired and unaware that the person on the other end of things is immediately scheming words to somehow get out of the verbal contract made.  That's it though.  It's a verbal fucking contract.  If you tell me something, I am going to believe you.  Does that make me a fucking imbecile to trust you or you a fucking dick face for speaking words untrue?  The latter, for sure.  I have been bailed on more times than I can count.  But it never used to be this way.  Before cell phones, texting, messaging, instant this and that...there was only you and another human telling each other things that were true.  If you were dying, you would still show up and the other party would send you the fuck home.  Now?  Well it's quite another story indeed.  Now, there is talk and agreements and contracts written in the stars that are never fulfilled.  Perhaps in the moment all is well, and then...well and then whatever.  I'm over it.  I will not be the person who teaches other people that it's ok to bail.  Fuck me for being so naive in this day and age that I trust you at your word.  Fuck me for arranging my schedule thusly to accommodate your needs.  Nah, fuck you and the lies you rode in on.