Carnival Siamese Twins

After yet another period of deep reflection, things falling apart, and the salve of self-destruction, I have only this to say: Fuck you.  Fuck you, and you, and you, and you, and you.  Fuck you two, and you, whoever you are, as well.  Fuuuuuuck you.

Fuck you over there, and fuck you drawing near.  Fuck you with a Ph.D, and all the wrong answers.  And fuck all the idiots asking stupid, "No one cares" questions.  "What kind of TREE would I be?!"

 Seriously?

Fuck you very much, indeed.

'Up yours' to the people who made the decision to vanish, and up yours to the ones who said it was hard to get close.  

Am I done?  
Yes. 

Wait... 

Fuck the sun and the moon, 
and daylight and darkness.  
Fuck logic, and dreams, and sanity.  
And puppies, not kittens.  
Fuck cats though, 
fuck them hard.

To quote my Father, "Fuck you, 
and the horse you rode in on." 

That's why I don't quote my Father. 

_____________________

Having said what I've said the truth is, fuck me.
Fuck me, most of all.

Fuck me for believing I might be surprised this time, and for thinking I might catch a break.  Do me bent over backward, and sideways, then leave me in tatters for my careless mistake.  The one that teased me with a small dose of Hoping.

I know better than that. 
I know how that one plays out.
I was certain it would be different this time.

Nevermind...

Take whatever determination I had, and snatch my motivation while you're in there.  And for Heaven's sake,  adios the notions I held about Fate, and Essence, and Purpose. 

I'm not whining.
Or being melodramatic.
Whhhhhy?

 Just cuz starting today, any accusation about my life being wasted, or about my outlook being naive, will be met by a standing choir of one, and the exaltation, 

"HALLELUJAH! 
PRAISE JESUS!! 
AMEN!"

Soooo?
Who cares?
I don't.

"Ima loser baaaaaaby, so why doanya kill meeeeee...."

Back Up

Remind me that self-deception, and self-confidence, are carnival siamese twins. They either agree to a life of being seen as the same, or vote for surgical separation.  Remind me that choosing to separate one from the other is usually fatal for one of them.  Remind me that you won't know which one until they're apart.

Most importantly, I need reminding that this time around isn't practice, it counts.  I need to wake up to the fact it's for real.  If I don't, I may reload for my next attempt as a pigeon, or a lapdog with a sweater.  

(It would be nice, next time around, to do it as a creature more at my present level.  I'd hump the shit out of your leg, in my sweater.  I'd bury my scent into the hinge of your ankle, panting for breath, and claim you.   

Well, I did say present level.)

To be honest, I didn't think I would actually die this year.  I won't claim that I want to, either.  What I can say sincerely, considering  events from the past year, is I don't care.  The most recent events involving my credential, and the past 6-years used in pursuit of whatever, left me flat-lined. Apathetic.  
Empty.

I've seen gangster, but I aint never seen gangster as evil as one in a Cardigan, with a Ph.d. 

Those mo-fo's are cold.
Brrrrrrrrr.
Stone fucking freezing.

No Pass Go

Life doesn't have a script it can follow because it can't predict what we'll do.  It has to build it's intention for you into the circumstances you create.  If you continue to create false circumstance, she'll rip the carpet from beneath your feet, and watch as you fall through the floor.

Here I go again.
Where's that rip-chord?

Three months ago I was certain I'd entered my final chapters.  I had them outlined, and mapped out.  I knew the towns that someday I'd live in, and what role I'd occupy in each.  I had my Ford-150 with a bench seat, and a dog, finally, to fill the void McKenzie left when he lay down, and died, 15-years ago.  

I knew who I was three months ago.  Or I thought I did.  Today I don't have a clue.  
Such an idiot.
You can't plan a life if you want to live one.

WWHD?

Blanket policies are designed for blanket populations, ones

with similar circumstances, and means.  They're unsympathetic, and rigid.  They're exempt of the most important characteristics of those they affect, the ones that qualify humans as Humans.  

You threw yours over me before I could speak.

You brought down six years in six seconds.  

I'm gonna hate you for that,
if that's cool.  We cool?
Cool.

Begin Again, Again

Today, I'm certain of just one thing.  I'm certain I'm not Heath Ledger playing a Knight in a film. The stars in my sky won't change for me, it seems, the way they did for him.  My life has no script to follow, no hint about how I will end.  

I am not Lord Ulrich Von Lichtenstein.  

I used to be, though, or at least we shared some characteristics.   The things that have been taken from me are things no man has a right to take from another.  No man should want to procure them, either.

The things that you've taken have been taken before.  I wasn't aware the first time it occurred.   Not like I am now.  That's growth, I guess.  I learned something.

We're not done, the lot of us.  Not yet.  
I'm coming to take them back.

Fuck everyone.
Everyone except Heath Ledger.  And Ulrich.