Sunday, December 28, 2008
An affair to dismember
It is amazing how it all starts to bleed together...the little apartment in Via Somalia...Thunderstorm symphonies in Memphis...election night in Vegas...whiskey drunk and stumbling through the sunset...Different cities, different languages-both spoken and of the body, different friends and lovers...
Lives that run parallel but never cross.
And I, for all intents and purposes, have lost control of the wheel...because when I jump, I jump off...fearlessly, feet first...try what and whoever on for size. I like a puzzle, a good story...lips...conversation that goes on without breath...being able to feel someone as they enter the room..verve...long sweaty afternoons...art installations...music music music...
And for those of you reading this, YOU...friends and fellow travellers-you are the tread in my wheels...you may not stop me from rolling, but you keep me from spinning out on the shoulder.
But as I sit here, a zillion miles away from some and in bed next to others, I have some decisions to make about the decisions I have made and it starts now.
Phase one is difficult because it involves the Wild Irish Rogue...
I came back to the City a hurricane and he was recovering from a Tsunami...That said, it should have been easy...we should have been the friends that we both needed...or maybe it was that 'need' that created the tension...Now, I am not one for expectations, but I was blindsided.
My impressions of him were completely connected to another person...so to divide him from her and fast forward a decade-brought this completely different person into my life...He was as complex as he was simple, as charismatic as he was cocky and a goodtime all around.
But he was reticent and he was hurting...and the last way to get an answer from him was to ask a question..he was guarded and I think suspicious of me because I was a female-and was somehow there to steal his soul...but I wasn't looking for a soulmate-just a playmate...someone to chase fog with...drink wine and talk music and books..and maybe, just maybe...get tangled up in the wee hours...because most things, like people, seem a little less broken in the dark...
And I wasn't sure what his picture looked like without me in it. I don't know if he was dating or if he passed his free time alone...that was his life, his business...but I did worry about him. He was good people and fragile, I sensed. I felt like he was self-isolating so I ambushed him a couple times...I think he saw it as me wanting more than he was willing to give...but I just wanted him to know I was a safe a place to turn...but I am MUCH better at fucking things up than maintaining them.
Regardless...I gave it a shot..(and a took a few shots as well)
And that door isn't closed completely. If he needed someone to be there, I would...but I am not a monster or a whore and didn't like feeling one...I am not good at being passive, which is what I would have to do to maintain the friendship...I felt when I took issue, he put it all on me...or I needed to operate within his delicate framework-which, I guess is what people do when they date-but we weren't dating...which again, spoke to the problem, I am not sure if he knew where to put me. I am pretty raw and tomboyish-but still a girl...most guys get confused-can't see the kitten inside the lion. I just wanted to say 'Baby, it ain't your heartstrings I've been tugging at'
All good things to end in lieu of good things to come
Lives that run parallel but never cross.
And I, for all intents and purposes, have lost control of the wheel...because when I jump, I jump off...fearlessly, feet first...try what and whoever on for size. I like a puzzle, a good story...lips...conversation that goes on without breath...being able to feel someone as they enter the room..verve...long sweaty afternoons...art installations...music music music...
And for those of you reading this, YOU...friends and fellow travellers-you are the tread in my wheels...you may not stop me from rolling, but you keep me from spinning out on the shoulder.
But as I sit here, a zillion miles away from some and in bed next to others, I have some decisions to make about the decisions I have made and it starts now.
Phase one is difficult because it involves the Wild Irish Rogue...
I came back to the City a hurricane and he was recovering from a Tsunami...That said, it should have been easy...we should have been the friends that we both needed...or maybe it was that 'need' that created the tension...Now, I am not one for expectations, but I was blindsided.
My impressions of him were completely connected to another person...so to divide him from her and fast forward a decade-brought this completely different person into my life...He was as complex as he was simple, as charismatic as he was cocky and a goodtime all around.
But he was reticent and he was hurting...and the last way to get an answer from him was to ask a question..he was guarded and I think suspicious of me because I was a female-and was somehow there to steal his soul...but I wasn't looking for a soulmate-just a playmate...someone to chase fog with...drink wine and talk music and books..and maybe, just maybe...get tangled up in the wee hours...because most things, like people, seem a little less broken in the dark...
And I wasn't sure what his picture looked like without me in it. I don't know if he was dating or if he passed his free time alone...that was his life, his business...but I did worry about him. He was good people and fragile, I sensed. I felt like he was self-isolating so I ambushed him a couple times...I think he saw it as me wanting more than he was willing to give...but I just wanted him to know I was a safe a place to turn...but I am MUCH better at fucking things up than maintaining them.
Regardless...I gave it a shot..(and a took a few shots as well)
And that door isn't closed completely. If he needed someone to be there, I would...but I am not a monster or a whore and didn't like feeling one...I am not good at being passive, which is what I would have to do to maintain the friendship...I felt when I took issue, he put it all on me...or I needed to operate within his delicate framework-which, I guess is what people do when they date-but we weren't dating...which again, spoke to the problem, I am not sure if he knew where to put me. I am pretty raw and tomboyish-but still a girl...most guys get confused-can't see the kitten inside the lion. I just wanted to say 'Baby, it ain't your heartstrings I've been tugging at'
All good things to end in lieu of good things to come
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Will the man who needs wheelchair assistance please remain seated
Will the man who needs wheelchair assistance please remain seated
Today was a comedy of errors...On the first leg of my trip, I met Cocksucker. He was a sawed-off redneck idiot, who, was just smart enough to know he was a moron, and turned that moron outwards to the masses, instead of looking inward for a minute and maybe even reading a book or something. He had a chip on his shoulder bigger than his shoulder and kept snapping at people without any real reason.
It was mostly benign until he mouthed off to this nice little lady...at that point, he made my short list and I waited for his next move, I was going to take him down. See, I have pent-up waitress rage, from years of dealing with people like that douchebag and I could spend years of therapy, calmly and productively working through those feelings-or I can just meet that guy off the clock and use my words.
I tend to lean towards the latter.
But the rest of the flight went off without a hitch. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed.
Oh, but then, because either God loves me or Jesus hates me, Cocksucker was on my connecting flight AND a two hour layover became a 4 hour layover. Cocksucker became Cocksucker raised to the power of Asshole. It was too delicious even for me to imagine where this was going.
At a certain point, I just said, in front of everyone
" It is two hours,two hours in a lifetime is NOTHING, and if the plane falls out
of the sky-it means even less"
Cocksucker just walked off mumbling stupid to himself.
One of the ticket attendants thanked me and then I pulled the other into a pow-wow. I asked her if there was a problem passenger, couldn't she just call security and have them bounced?
She smiled and said
"Do you have a problem or concern about a passenger?"
I returned her smile and replied
"Do I need to?"
We laughed and so it was done.
There were knowing glances and raised fists in glory as security took him away.
The rest of the trip was weird as well...Buddahist monks with cellphones, people speaking Flemish, a creepy guy that sat across from me leering at women long enough that I could tell his type. He liked skinny brunettes..other than that he barely passed his eyes over them...I heard a guy tell his friend his new girlfriend is so hot and so model perfect he keeps waiting for her to tell him that she is a man...uh? Okay.
And as I was leaving the plane, the server in the sky said over the PA
"Will the man waiting for wheelchair assistance please remain seated"
I just laughed. Maybe too loud. Getting hard looks from the man next to me.
But that line was just too perfect, summed it all up.
Today was a comedy of errors...On the first leg of my trip, I met Cocksucker. He was a sawed-off redneck idiot, who, was just smart enough to know he was a moron, and turned that moron outwards to the masses, instead of looking inward for a minute and maybe even reading a book or something. He had a chip on his shoulder bigger than his shoulder and kept snapping at people without any real reason.
It was mostly benign until he mouthed off to this nice little lady...at that point, he made my short list and I waited for his next move, I was going to take him down. See, I have pent-up waitress rage, from years of dealing with people like that douchebag and I could spend years of therapy, calmly and productively working through those feelings-or I can just meet that guy off the clock and use my words.
I tend to lean towards the latter.
But the rest of the flight went off without a hitch. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed.
Oh, but then, because either God loves me or Jesus hates me, Cocksucker was on my connecting flight AND a two hour layover became a 4 hour layover. Cocksucker became Cocksucker raised to the power of Asshole. It was too delicious even for me to imagine where this was going.
At a certain point, I just said, in front of everyone
" It is two hours,two hours in a lifetime is NOTHING, and if the plane falls out
of the sky-it means even less"
Cocksucker just walked off mumbling stupid to himself.
One of the ticket attendants thanked me and then I pulled the other into a pow-wow. I asked her if there was a problem passenger, couldn't she just call security and have them bounced?
She smiled and said
"Do you have a problem or concern about a passenger?"
I returned her smile and replied
"Do I need to?"
We laughed and so it was done.
There were knowing glances and raised fists in glory as security took him away.
The rest of the trip was weird as well...Buddahist monks with cellphones, people speaking Flemish, a creepy guy that sat across from me leering at women long enough that I could tell his type. He liked skinny brunettes..other than that he barely passed his eyes over them...I heard a guy tell his friend his new girlfriend is so hot and so model perfect he keeps waiting for her to tell him that she is a man...uh? Okay.
And as I was leaving the plane, the server in the sky said over the PA
"Will the man waiting for wheelchair assistance please remain seated"
I just laughed. Maybe too loud. Getting hard looks from the man next to me.
But that line was just too perfect, summed it all up.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
something borrowed, something true
...For as long as I can remember, major conflict in my life, I have resolved with motion. Hop a plane, get on a bus...In Europe, I rode the rails from London to Sicily...from France to Hungary...taking in some history and taking myself out of whatever equation had become a riddle.
And in this, I saw truth. Distance makes for clarity, I would know what was situational and what was mine. This, in theory, was true. I am very very aware of my flaws...but the isolation of travel, of starting over and having to always rely on me and only MY judgement-atleast in the intial phases of a transfer-has created this reverse Stockholm syndrome...the crazy gets me through the rough stuff instead of my more solid bits...In the past couple of years,especially, I have begun to sympathize with my captor.
And in this, I saw truth. Distance makes for clarity, I would know what was situational and what was mine. This, in theory, was true. I am very very aware of my flaws...but the isolation of travel, of starting over and having to always rely on me and only MY judgement-atleast in the intial phases of a transfer-has created this reverse Stockholm syndrome...the crazy gets me through the rough stuff instead of my more solid bits...In the past couple of years,especially, I have begun to sympathize with my captor.
It is the quirky, imbalanced, the "Terminal Uniqueness" that took me to Vegas, and that is where the inmates REALLY started running the asylum.
To me, honesty, has always been key...ESPECIALLY with those in my inner sanctum...but in Vegas, that honesty became fractured. I lied about just about everything in the beginning...From what I studied in college to why I moved to there in the first place. I couldn't reveal my political affiliations.I could cite Machiavelli and John Murphy...no harm, no foul. It would be okay and it was-until I became close to my co-workers.
To me, honesty, has always been key...ESPECIALLY with those in my inner sanctum...but in Vegas, that honesty became fractured. I lied about just about everything in the beginning...From what I studied in college to why I moved to there in the first place. I couldn't reveal my political affiliations.I could cite Machiavelli and John Murphy...no harm, no foul. It would be okay and it was-until I became close to my co-workers.
We were always together, on and off the clock, they became my family. And I struggled. Especially with Brenda, because we were SO close, and she would say to me " Something is missing" in reference to my story...
And that fracturing of truth made it easy for me to fall into bed with a married man...and what I realized, yesterday, when I wasn't sure if the day was going to end in plane tickets or a full tank of gas- that our relationship has kept my ability to be honest-broken into pieces.
Since he and I got involved, I haven't been completely honest with anyone. We lied to our co-workers, I lied to my friends...even to the people who knew, I downplayed it. It was taboo, it made people around me uncomfortable...so I just highlighted different elements, walked the crooked lines in my fractured truth...but the fact I was leaving town kept me in the game because when I jump, I jump in and ride it out until the end.
Since he and I got involved, I haven't been completely honest with anyone. We lied to our co-workers, I lied to my friends...even to the people who knew, I downplayed it. It was taboo, it made people around me uncomfortable...so I just highlighted different elements, walked the crooked lines in my fractured truth...but the fact I was leaving town kept me in the game because when I jump, I jump in and ride it out until the end.
But it hasn't ended. In fact, yesterday, it was clear that we are closer now. The distance has made us friends...though the crazy passion is still there. But what the hell is my motivation now? He is hardly low hanging fruit anymore.What am I maintaining?
And when I sit and trying to put my finger on an actual legitimate feeling for him-I can't come up with one. I mean, we laugh together and have a very open sexual relationship...but I never went into this wanting to be with him. I still don't. Lately, he has been talking about how he doesn't want anything to change between us-which, I don't even know why he would say that? I don't know if he fears that as time passes I will become more attached or if the fears belong to him.He talked about us burning for eternity in hell together. Which is probably the longest committent a man has ever given me-hahaha...I mean I've had men want to marry me, spend a lifetime-but an ETERNITY? It is too ridiculous to even consider.
But again, why am I in this? Boredom? Quite possibly. Though I woke up the other morning, in the sunset, in a familiar though not entirely comfortable bed...(the sun was as bright as I had ever seen it, and the fact that it made-what by all accounts-was a rare appearance-after a white night-was proof enough that god hates me.)
And that bed, or more accurately- the dynamics of the two people that passed the night in it, made me further evaluate what the hell I am doing. When I started to feel comfort or closeness, I wanted to take things to the dirty place. I couldn't just BE. Part of it is biology but the other part? Fear, maybe? Burning the thoughts of a possibility of a bridge? Just burning, senselessly?
But I like that place...buzzing around the city, laughing, listening to music...not taking ANYTHING too seriously...friendship. Can it be that simple or will I fuck it up?
But I like that place...buzzing around the city, laughing, listening to music...not taking ANYTHING too seriously...friendship. Can it be that simple or will I fuck it up?
So, I guess my point, is, ultimately, you can travel, live, learn...CULTIVATE...but if you don't stick around long enough to safely close doors, those doors, those lights left on in the dark and far reaching corners of your life, will come and cast long shadows on the now.
And it smarts a little.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Douchebag Manifesto, PT.5
Social hierarchy is an organic construct, I get that...and our respective positions have to do with a smattering of reasons, both ostentatious (i.e. money, appearance, etc.) and the inconspicuous (i.e charisma, sense of self)...that said, I find people who identify themselves as somehow superior to others- really gross.
And in saying that, I don't feel superior to them, I just don't respect them. I don't have to. I choose who I want to be close to me and the exclusion of others doesn't come from some sort of value judgement on my part...I don't need to feel BETTER than someone to feel good about myself.
And it has been increasingly clear that my roomate has this smug sense of superiority in all things. It seems so misplaced. He interprets my behavior based on his world view-which is to be understood, but it explains the fact he is so overly sensitive...everything anyone says or does has a value attached- and you are either with him or somehow putting him down.
The fact that I took an almost instant disliking to one of his friends was turned into an attack on his judgement. If I don't see her value, then somehow I am invalidating his feelings for her. That by itself is just plain silly and adolescent...then he adds that he will be forced to play nice with people he isn't going to like-and then he names off people he hasn't even met...So who he chooses to be in his inner sanctum is indisputable, but my friends are suspect by virtue of being my friends? Yet, somehow I am the one who has committed an offense. He genuinely feels morally superior...which is fine...but our friendship is over...why would I allow that kind of judgement from a friend?
Those close to us are supposed to be, sounding boards, support systems,insulation against the bad guys. I define bad guys as "fucktards" and mormons (; -that's a joke...well, kinda.
And I don't live my life by some controlled sense of morality or being. I enjoy just seeing where a person or a situation can take me. I have done many things that would be considered deplorable by polite society and most organized religions...and guess what? That doesn't make me a bad person or less of a person...nor does it make me better than anyone else...I do feel that having experienced many people, places and things on various levels allows me to make more informed decisions...but that in no way invalidates the armchair skeptics.
Live and let live...and I don't have a big enough ego to think I should be the great decider of all things...I do what I can to work towards the things that matter and disengage from people and situations that displease me. We are all hypocritical, bigoted, selfish...it is really about the degree. So for anyone to feel superior is odd to me...does it come from a place of insecurity and fragility? You can feel secure about what you don't have in your life by looking down from on high? If you aren't happy, why not get out there and mix it up?
I guess I just don't get it. The goodness in people isn't reflected in talking points and voting records...or saying please and thank you...goodness in people isn't necessarily defined by acts of goodness-the best in behavior can come from the darkest places of self-interest...
And I am really really struggling right now. Moving back here has been difficult on so many levels. Thanks to those of you who have been there through the pity parties! Even though things are uncomfortable right now I feel pretty secure in who my friends are...which is more satisfying than I could ever imagine.
and I might need a hug. so, yeah, I am just saying.
And in saying that, I don't feel superior to them, I just don't respect them. I don't have to. I choose who I want to be close to me and the exclusion of others doesn't come from some sort of value judgement on my part...I don't need to feel BETTER than someone to feel good about myself.
And it has been increasingly clear that my roomate has this smug sense of superiority in all things. It seems so misplaced. He interprets my behavior based on his world view-which is to be understood, but it explains the fact he is so overly sensitive...everything anyone says or does has a value attached- and you are either with him or somehow putting him down.
The fact that I took an almost instant disliking to one of his friends was turned into an attack on his judgement. If I don't see her value, then somehow I am invalidating his feelings for her. That by itself is just plain silly and adolescent...then he adds that he will be forced to play nice with people he isn't going to like-and then he names off people he hasn't even met...So who he chooses to be in his inner sanctum is indisputable, but my friends are suspect by virtue of being my friends? Yet, somehow I am the one who has committed an offense. He genuinely feels morally superior...which is fine...but our friendship is over...why would I allow that kind of judgement from a friend?
Those close to us are supposed to be, sounding boards, support systems,insulation against the bad guys. I define bad guys as "fucktards" and mormons (; -that's a joke...well, kinda.
And I don't live my life by some controlled sense of morality or being. I enjoy just seeing where a person or a situation can take me. I have done many things that would be considered deplorable by polite society and most organized religions...and guess what? That doesn't make me a bad person or less of a person...nor does it make me better than anyone else...I do feel that having experienced many people, places and things on various levels allows me to make more informed decisions...but that in no way invalidates the armchair skeptics.
Live and let live...and I don't have a big enough ego to think I should be the great decider of all things...I do what I can to work towards the things that matter and disengage from people and situations that displease me. We are all hypocritical, bigoted, selfish...it is really about the degree. So for anyone to feel superior is odd to me...does it come from a place of insecurity and fragility? You can feel secure about what you don't have in your life by looking down from on high? If you aren't happy, why not get out there and mix it up?
I guess I just don't get it. The goodness in people isn't reflected in talking points and voting records...or saying please and thank you...goodness in people isn't necessarily defined by acts of goodness-the best in behavior can come from the darkest places of self-interest...
And I am really really struggling right now. Moving back here has been difficult on so many levels. Thanks to those of you who have been there through the pity parties! Even though things are uncomfortable right now I feel pretty secure in who my friends are...which is more satisfying than I could ever imagine.
and I might need a hug. so, yeah, I am just saying.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Douchebag Manifesto PT.4
I am not politically correct. I file that under "bullshit that's not worth my time". My roomie is having a dinner party and I was excited to meet his friends...Then I am in the kitchen and one of the girls gets bossy with the other. I make a crack about "showing the bitch who is boss". Was it in bad taste? Sure. Then one of the girls turns to me and says " There are no bitches here" ...Riiight, I forgot, we are all post feminist feminists...Shut the fuck up. I can't stand women who get caught up in what it means to be a progressive woman.
I live my life, fearlessly and don't give a fuck all who notices or what they think. I was raised without limitations and that means saying "bitch" without your disapproving looks.
Also, the whole politically correct thing is a sham. It is a way assuaging white guilt.
Live your life, be good to people, in a genuine way...life is better when it is cinema verite and not fox reality.
Ew. I am annoyed.
I live my life, fearlessly and don't give a fuck all who notices or what they think. I was raised without limitations and that means saying "bitch" without your disapproving looks.
Also, the whole politically correct thing is a sham. It is a way assuaging white guilt.
Live your life, be good to people, in a genuine way...life is better when it is cinema verite and not fox reality.
Ew. I am annoyed.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Douchebag Manifesto, PT. 3
I have taken criticism for rewarding a guy who is, by all accounts, less than evolved, with attention, both sexual and otherwise...
I don't care that he is an ass. It isn't that he is the one getting rewarded. I am there getting MY needs met. I don't care what or who he is doing afterwards. Not my problem or business. It is condescending to assume I am somehow his victim.
Sounds jaded maybe, but it's true.
Just because I'm an intellectual of sorts, doesn't mean I don't appreciate the power of a good ol' fashioned cavemaning. That is why really nice guys don't get ass. There is a very primal game of cat and mouse that we play, whether we like it or not. You have to be forward, take chances, show strength...not be so sweet and cuddly.Think less about a basket of kittens more about a pride of lions. Dominance can be sexy. Dominance can be expressed physically or intellectually...It can be a hand moving up the thigh or biting wit...Cocky can be charming when it is expressed through humor.
When it comes to the kaffeeklatsch I appreciate a guy that is well read. When it comes to the human act of love-I want a man that makes me feel like a woman. Even us post-feminist feminists need the right balance of pheromones, cro-magnon and possibly pinot-grigio...And I have dated men that are a fine balance of both.
And sure, generally a guy has to fuck me between the ears first...but with Mr. Vegas, that didn't happen...and that's just fine. I am raw. He was raw. It made sense. Timing is nine-tenths of possession by law.
I had a friend tell me that I placed too much importance on sex, that there are people that go their whole lives celibate...And I think it is completely unnatural to live that way. The need to copulate is built into our DNA. People who use religion as a motivation to deny the physical self are trying to ascend the body, dominate the animal that is at our core. To that, I say, "why?".
I believe that need to overcome the body comes out a need for control/fear. I think perversion comes from subversion or repression of our natural state. It is always gay men who become religious leaders for churches that hate homosexuals that get caught up in scandal.
So sure, I am a douchebag...but I am definitely not repressed and I know who I am...and I think I am pretty rad...
I don't care that he is an ass. It isn't that he is the one getting rewarded. I am there getting MY needs met. I don't care what or who he is doing afterwards. Not my problem or business. It is condescending to assume I am somehow his victim.
Sounds jaded maybe, but it's true.
Just because I'm an intellectual of sorts, doesn't mean I don't appreciate the power of a good ol' fashioned cavemaning. That is why really nice guys don't get ass. There is a very primal game of cat and mouse that we play, whether we like it or not. You have to be forward, take chances, show strength...not be so sweet and cuddly.Think less about a basket of kittens more about a pride of lions. Dominance can be sexy. Dominance can be expressed physically or intellectually...It can be a hand moving up the thigh or biting wit...Cocky can be charming when it is expressed through humor.
When it comes to the kaffeeklatsch I appreciate a guy that is well read. When it comes to the human act of love-I want a man that makes me feel like a woman. Even us post-feminist feminists need the right balance of pheromones, cro-magnon and possibly pinot-grigio...And I have dated men that are a fine balance of both.
And sure, generally a guy has to fuck me between the ears first...but with Mr. Vegas, that didn't happen...and that's just fine. I am raw. He was raw. It made sense. Timing is nine-tenths of possession by law.
I had a friend tell me that I placed too much importance on sex, that there are people that go their whole lives celibate...And I think it is completely unnatural to live that way. The need to copulate is built into our DNA. People who use religion as a motivation to deny the physical self are trying to ascend the body, dominate the animal that is at our core. To that, I say, "why?".
I believe that need to overcome the body comes out a need for control/fear. I think perversion comes from subversion or repression of our natural state. It is always gay men who become religious leaders for churches that hate homosexuals that get caught up in scandal.
So sure, I am a douchebag...but I am definitely not repressed and I know who I am...and I think I am pretty rad...
Douchebag Chronicles, PT. 2
Another douchey quality I possess, is that I don't trust people who go out of their way to be nice to everyone, that want others to recognize their evolved and heightened moral fortitude...
see: http://www.slate.com/id/2090083/
I do believe in the goodness of people...I love, enjoy, admire those close to me...but for those outside the pack? Sure,I am civil...it's hard to make friends walking around giving people the middle finger and cursing them-but I don't go out of my way to be nice-it's dishonest. That overarching, artificial sweetness comes not from how you have made that person feel, but your sense of superiority "I am a better person because..."
I believe people are motivated ultimately by the primal. Sure we have the ability to reason, we are homo sapien sapiens...and I thank the sweet baby jesus everyday because if it weren't for fear of prison or divine retribution or the need for man to feel himself better than the animals I'd have been stabbbed in the neck YEARS ago. Someone would have taken me out. Seriously.
People fear the law, jesus, or being viewed as an other/bad. People fear lonliness so they mirror those around them, they swallow up the politically correct kool-aid...do what it takes to be taken in by the pack.
And sure, I take part in the superficial decency of our human choreography-but to those close to me, I rarely sugarcoat or coddle and don't expect anyone else to. I don't live in a bubble, so I don't fear anyone bursting it. I don't knowingly make promises I can't keep. I won't tell you want to hear so we can put an issue to bed.
I am a firm subscriber to the greek school of Cynicism. The original cynics were critical of the dishonesty and excesses of their modern society. The word Cynic actuall comes from the Greek word for dog. They believed that dogs were of the most honorable of creatures, taking what they need and ignoring the rest. One of my favorite stories that came from that period is this:
There lived a wise man in ancient Greece whose name was Diogenes. Men came from all parts of the land to see him and talk to him.
Diogenes was a strange man. He said that no man needed much, and so he did not live in a house but slept in a barrel, which he rolled about from place to place. He spent his days sitting in the sun and saying wise things to those who were around him.
When Alexander the Great came to that town he went to see the wise man. He found Diogenes outside the town lying on the ground by his barrel. He was enjoying the sun.
When he saw the king he sat up and looked at Alexander. Alexander greeted him and said:
"Diogenes, I have heard a great deal about you. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yes," said Diogenes, "you can step aside a little so as not to keep the sunshine from me."
The king was very much surprised. But this answer did not make him angry. He turned to his officers with the following words:
"Say what you like, but if I were not Alexander, I should like to be Diogenes."
Don't steal my sunshine and I won't go scorched earth on you or rain on your parade.
It is that simple.
see: http://www.slate.com/id/2090083/
I do believe in the goodness of people...I love, enjoy, admire those close to me...but for those outside the pack? Sure,I am civil...it's hard to make friends walking around giving people the middle finger and cursing them-but I don't go out of my way to be nice-it's dishonest. That overarching, artificial sweetness comes not from how you have made that person feel, but your sense of superiority "I am a better person because..."
I believe people are motivated ultimately by the primal. Sure we have the ability to reason, we are homo sapien sapiens...and I thank the sweet baby jesus everyday because if it weren't for fear of prison or divine retribution or the need for man to feel himself better than the animals I'd have been stabbbed in the neck YEARS ago. Someone would have taken me out. Seriously.
People fear the law, jesus, or being viewed as an other/bad. People fear lonliness so they mirror those around them, they swallow up the politically correct kool-aid...do what it takes to be taken in by the pack.
And sure, I take part in the superficial decency of our human choreography-but to those close to me, I rarely sugarcoat or coddle and don't expect anyone else to. I don't live in a bubble, so I don't fear anyone bursting it. I don't knowingly make promises I can't keep. I won't tell you want to hear so we can put an issue to bed.
I am a firm subscriber to the greek school of Cynicism. The original cynics were critical of the dishonesty and excesses of their modern society. The word Cynic actuall comes from the Greek word for dog. They believed that dogs were of the most honorable of creatures, taking what they need and ignoring the rest. One of my favorite stories that came from that period is this:
There lived a wise man in ancient Greece whose name was Diogenes. Men came from all parts of the land to see him and talk to him.
Diogenes was a strange man. He said that no man needed much, and so he did not live in a house but slept in a barrel, which he rolled about from place to place. He spent his days sitting in the sun and saying wise things to those who were around him.
When Alexander the Great came to that town he went to see the wise man. He found Diogenes outside the town lying on the ground by his barrel. He was enjoying the sun.
When he saw the king he sat up and looked at Alexander. Alexander greeted him and said:
"Diogenes, I have heard a great deal about you. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yes," said Diogenes, "you can step aside a little so as not to keep the sunshine from me."
The king was very much surprised. But this answer did not make him angry. He turned to his officers with the following words:
"Say what you like, but if I were not Alexander, I should like to be Diogenes."
Don't steal my sunshine and I won't go scorched earth on you or rain on your parade.
It is that simple.
Douchebag Manifesto
It is true...as time passes I move further away from the young woman I was-and closer towards the douchebag I seem destined to be...
I don't know how it happened...when it started...I remember passing out in an airport after a long night of infidelity ( on my part) and rock 'n' roll (on his part)...only to find myself facing the man who loved me...I choked through jokes, still drunk, sitting on my suitecase in my roommate's dress...
Or maybe it was when I started moving between Italy and California often...The different languages allowed me distance between lovers and friends...I began having different lives that ran parallel and never crossed...
Though maybe it was when I began working in the restaurant industry full time...restaurants/bars being sexually charged places and I was in a loving but passionless union-where eventually I strayed.
Maybe that is the key...After six years, I haven't found a partner in anyone else, haven't really cared to...that said, I have sought out passion, the primal...and I have found it...So emotionally I have been shut-off but sexually my dial has been turned to eleven.
Sleeping with someone else's husband? It is the perfect paradigm. He will never leave her and so I am safe from ever having to feel or deal with his feelings. As jaded and as twisted as it sounds-it makes perfect sense...and now that I am no longer working with him, I don't have to worry about her finding out.
But I worry about what this means for the future...I mean, am I capable of bringing emotion back into the bedroom? Back into my life? Will I able to be happily monogamous or only begrudgingly so...Am I just damaged goods at this point?
I don't worry about being alone, because luckily I have good people in my life, and I get the affection/nurturing I need...but everything has been so compartmentalized for so long, I don't know how to bring all the pieces together, or even sure that it is necessary I do so...
So I am a douchebag
And I do douchey things...I can admit here, to inviting two guys to the same event, one who I liked, one who I considered a friend w/benefits. I invited the booty call guy to ensure I wouldn't sleep with the guy I liked. God forbid I have feelings for someone I sleep with.
And I could go one, but I don't think anyone would want me to...as good as it would feel to confess...it would be a selfish act on my part- and since I recognize blogs are already narcissistic-why fall into the pond and drown you all in the twisted details...
So yeah...who thinks that I should endure female circumcision, be chained to a wall and be subject to severe and vigorous therapy?
But if all else fails, there is always the fail-safe...a cocktail and a good pounding...
I don't know how it happened...when it started...I remember passing out in an airport after a long night of infidelity ( on my part) and rock 'n' roll (on his part)...only to find myself facing the man who loved me...I choked through jokes, still drunk, sitting on my suitecase in my roommate's dress...
Or maybe it was when I started moving between Italy and California often...The different languages allowed me distance between lovers and friends...I began having different lives that ran parallel and never crossed...
Though maybe it was when I began working in the restaurant industry full time...restaurants/bars being sexually charged places and I was in a loving but passionless union-where eventually I strayed.
Maybe that is the key...After six years, I haven't found a partner in anyone else, haven't really cared to...that said, I have sought out passion, the primal...and I have found it...So emotionally I have been shut-off but sexually my dial has been turned to eleven.
Sleeping with someone else's husband? It is the perfect paradigm. He will never leave her and so I am safe from ever having to feel or deal with his feelings. As jaded and as twisted as it sounds-it makes perfect sense...and now that I am no longer working with him, I don't have to worry about her finding out.
But I worry about what this means for the future...I mean, am I capable of bringing emotion back into the bedroom? Back into my life? Will I able to be happily monogamous or only begrudgingly so...Am I just damaged goods at this point?
I don't worry about being alone, because luckily I have good people in my life, and I get the affection/nurturing I need...but everything has been so compartmentalized for so long, I don't know how to bring all the pieces together, or even sure that it is necessary I do so...
So I am a douchebag
And I do douchey things...I can admit here, to inviting two guys to the same event, one who I liked, one who I considered a friend w/benefits. I invited the booty call guy to ensure I wouldn't sleep with the guy I liked. God forbid I have feelings for someone I sleep with.
And I could go one, but I don't think anyone would want me to...as good as it would feel to confess...it would be a selfish act on my part- and since I recognize blogs are already narcissistic-why fall into the pond and drown you all in the twisted details...
So yeah...who thinks that I should endure female circumcision, be chained to a wall and be subject to severe and vigorous therapy?
But if all else fails, there is always the fail-safe...a cocktail and a good pounding...
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