Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thanks

Thanks for the summons from the wolf that raised me to come home, "If you ever want to see your father alive again." I never said I did, and thanks for the attempted guilt trip. In reality it is a 2 hour trip to nowhere, a land where my phone does not work, where my computer is useless, and cable has been cut. A place where opening a book is seen as an invitation to have a lengthy, two party conversation (I am really good at one party conversations). Thanks for the crisis (mid life, or existential) that I am going through that makes me wonder why I staggered out of my nice, warm bed this morning (besides other than to take a lovely morning piss), and why I continue to stagger out of it morning after morning just to see "another indistinguishable day arriving outside my window." Thanks for making the town I inhabit a cultural wasteland, and a blazing shithole, where right now someone is probably threatening to kill someone over a turkey leg. At least that kind of senseless activity keeps me employed, and provides the obvious "reason" for me getting about of bed in the morning. A place where you love to fly out of, but not to. Thanks for making almost everything that I can enjoy bad for me, beer, beef jerky, and chocolate are things that should be exempt from making you fat, drunk, or stupid for the rest of your life. Thanks for the ageing process that makes it almost impossible for me to sleep past seven in the morning, but still makes me tired when I do get out of bed. Thanks for making relationships my kryptonite, one thing I am naturally bad at, but have no choice but to attempt to form in order to avoid becoming some Salinger type recluse about which odd legends, hushed whispers would circulate. Thanks for making one of my best mates so wrapped up in "things" that he is virtually impossible to have any sort of conversation with, one party or two. And finally, thanks for making me have such ridiculously high standards for those attempted relationships, and for heroes. Standards that I, on my best day, could not live up to, but I still hope, or expect others to be able to meet. Standards that have led to this miserable post, and to me having to once again, with regret, say that there is no hero of the day for today.

1 comment:

Cynnie said...

Guilt doesn't really work on me ..my mother knows better than to try it on me ...but knowing better doesn't really stop her.
Sorry for whatever bullshit you gotta go through ..
but then eh, bullshit is part of life ..suck it up