Haven’t you noticed?
There’s no light on inside;
Just a pirated, drifting vessel…
On a map that is preoccupied.
Doesn’t it occur to you?
That the twinkle is gone from my eyes;
Just two dulled down, blue marbles…
Attached to nothing on their’ other sides.
Has it never bothered you?
When it’s so quiet where I once sat;
Just an empty, overstuffed recliner…
You don’t even think twice about that.
Aren’t there days when you resurface?
To realize you never left the shallow end;
Just the guilt eating, gnawing away…
And you’re too overcome to pretend.
Don’t you feel sorry every day?
That you see me without my smile;
Just an empty expression, hollow eyed…
Can’t forget the pain for even a little while.
Aren’t you aware on some level?
Of the ways that you’ve crossed over me;
Just a self-absorbed, oblivious mutant…
So clueless to the ways of TRUE humanity.
Haven’t you already seen me?
For the woman I actually am;
Just dimes of dozens, dingbat ‘play things’…
Tell me that you are, after all – no REAL man.
Didn’t you hear my warnings?
And didn’t choose to take heed to my cries;
Just stood there pretending, ignoring…
The Fucking Truth gouging out both your eyes.
The words spelled out all over the screen have become so meaningless.
…’Cause they can’t see that I’m chewing my cheeks and doing the ADHD purse shuffle from near-spontaneous-combustion while they tell lies to me.
They don’t know how intelligent I am because I have a sailor’s mouth and I prefer not to be meek.
They each think that they have something better – a leg up on me.
Two can keep a secret when one is headed downstream.
Life often throws curve-balls at me when it comes to the stupid choices I make in regard to ‘trust’ and ‘the wrong people’; and so the story goes.
The older I get, the more able I am to take responsibility for my own parts in the bullshit that goes down between myself and others – and the older I get, the less willing I become to even involve the others at all in my existence.
Being online with so many diverse personalities has helped me to learn a lot about the unwillingness I have cultivated over the years; and it has also been my experiences with people online that have helped reaffirm a longstanding sentiment I’ve held when it comes to the people around me:
- I do not have to love them.
- I do not have to understand them.
- I do not even have to give a shit about them.
But my not giving a shit about somebody in whom I foster no love or understanding for should not impede my own sense of morality and/or humanity as a result; and I should never allow it to.
I keep stumbling across all of these stupid reminders of the person who I just lost from the rest of my life: someone whose lost presence made things seem better, someone who used to make me laugh every single day, multiple times…someone who was never really was, most likely.
A weathered “missing” crossbow arrow, stuck firmly into a fence post from last summer when this person and myself shot everything and anything we could aim at in the backyard; tiny, yellow, plastic bbs that I still find rolling silently beneath my bare feet in the hallway…echoes of laughter and sunlight and smiles that were unprompted and genuine on my behalf…things that don’t come easily for me with anyone.
A safe in the garage, full of this person’s precious valuables and stacks of money – things this person doesn’t trust to leave with ANYONE or ANYWHERE else; quarts and quarts of “butter” in the refrigerator that I have to get my meals out of every time I get hungry – which isn’t very often any more, anyway, but still…it makes me remember the person who left these things here in comparison to the person who will be coming back to retrieve them: An ugliness that is painful and sour in my belly.
The deep reverberation of sound that resonates within this place’s new emptiness from wall to bare wall; all these plants sprouting up everywhere from the seeds mixed in with the piles of rubbish this person cleared out like the end of a party’s cleaning crew cleans a party hall. Most certainly the end of the party…
Turns out (who knew) that this person is the kind of person who is only honest with you about stuff when you see this person every day – the type who isn’t bothered by being dishonest with someone when there’s little follow up contact to worry about – which is pretty hurtful and sad to me, yes…but not the end of the world as it has been feeling like more recently. I’m tired of being used and tossed away by people because they have some superiority complex that is their own baggage and has nothing to do with me.
I intend to disallow this in my future, and it won’t be easy because I get my own gratifications from the twisted and warped ideas I carry around to strengthen my own ego, ironically. I see that I am in the wrong ballgame, and need to move on to a different field. Not sure which one yet…but one without so many god damned constant reminders of so many ghosts, that’s for sure.
This week has been sullen for me, as an individual human being on a solo journey through this thing called ‘life’…I’ve been stabbed once more in my back – the back that resembles Swiss Cheese these days from so many of these trivial betrayals.
“Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.”
Or so, I like to proclaim quite regularly; but in all actuality it’s much more the opposite. I am a weak individual in terms of emotional control: I am cursed with the permanent role of Devil’s Advocate, as well as the additional layers of extreme and seemingly untreatable abandonment issues that have morphed into rejection issues over time. When I say “rejection issues”, I don’t simply apply that to the context of romantic relationships, either…no, unfortunately my insecurities, leeriness, and inability to commit have crossed all boundaries throughout the realms of my world by now – rendering the recluse, socially anxious and withdrawn “thing” that writes this blog. I know that I am the common denominator in all of the failed attempts at intimacy in the years since I learned the truth about the Real World and how quickly someone can literally become someone else altogether. I have repeatedly been shown the lesson of trusting the wrong individual, but have yet to actually learn it, I suppose.
My worst wounds are the ones people can’t see; the most painful experience of my own survival are born from my psyche, from my perceptions of the world around me as well as the people in it. In reality, this past week has been very minimal in interaction or dialogue or exchange with the backstabber in question; that’s my issue – that’s my symbolic open wound: the ways that others feel so obliged to “use” my weaknesses to their own benefit somehow.
I operate fairly simply and without complexity:
- If you’ve hurt me in any way, I will let it be known to you – at which point, you have the option to either do right or wrong by me.
- After a window of a day or so passes by, if you have not chosen to show me the fundamental decency of communication in any sense of the word, you’ve been systematically chalked up with those before you who have acted like a mutant.
In life, I realize that we are each essentially on different journeys in this thing, motivated by varying factors and ambitions; only coinciding to unite forces when the purpose serves each person involved; I get it. I am not some numbskull from whom such concepts escape, trust me; I am however, apparently in some highly masochistic sort of denial to the blatant and repeatedly painful realization that 9 out 10 of the living, breathing, “functioning” carbon-based, human life forms around me at any given moment in time: are quite likely already chalked up to the formerly mentioned category of “mutant”.
I use the word mutant to describe many types of creatures who live under the palpable existence of “humanity”:
- People who steal from other people.
- People who bully or terrorize others who are unable to defend themselves due to size or restraints.
- People who are dishonest with those who are not.
- People who think that they are the exception to “the rule”, any rule.
- People who are intrinsically satisfied by watching others suffer.
- People who are obnoxious in the need to flaunt and display celebratory behaviors at the cost of others in a form of mockery.
- ANYONE WHO HURTS A CHILD.
- People who believe that a certain social status or popularity amongst the tanning lights will protect them from the dark side.
- People who carry a badge or yield a gavel out of an unsatisfied need for control over others.
- People who knowingly look the other way when something WRONG is happening, because to say something would somehow affect their pocketbook negatively.
There are many more types of mutants too: pimps, johns, most government officials, bible thumpers, bullies, etc.
This week, I’ve been dealing with #s 3 and 8 on a pretty regular basis…and it’s been rough on me because I am an adult now, and I have to behave like one – but it’s NOT always easy is it? Sometimes, I would give anything just to be able to allow my fifteen year old Self to come out, just for a few moments and say, “Oh really? You think you’re backstabbing is anything new to me? Seriously, because I wanted to know if my back was hurting your fucking knife yet, you little Weaseling Snake…”, or, “Can it seriously be possible that you’re as fucking Princess Stupid as you’re acting, you stuck-up little spoiled rotten Dumptruck?”…
…Jesus, I stomp around my house like a fucking Terra Cotta soldier, cursing and snarling under my breath whenever I’m in the same room with one of them – the 1st of May CAN NOT get here fast enough I’ll tell you that much…because I can hardly stand to look at my soon-to-be former roommate or either one of the little shit-kick dogs that are attached to his presence here in what was a once quiet and calm, easy-going and reciprocally supportive home front. I hate sharing space with such an opportunist; as I am NOT built that way by any means. I take yeah…but I am most certainly far from last to refrain from giving back.
I’m trying really hard to be mature and to just let it all roll off my back like water off a duck’s, but I guess I’m not as mature as I need to be, because things bother me when it comes to humanity. It really bothers me when people use me, when people not only use me, but then carry on as if that were always the plan, afterward. Why does some pompous, rich, pretentious fuck need to fuck with me and take from me when he already has more than enough for himself? Greed. Self-absorption. Lack of substance. All I know is that it’s hard to keep giving like the human being that I am by nature, when those with their hands out have mouths so full that they cannot speak to me.
Ok, that’s all for now…I will step down from the podium now…