Take Another Look











{March 4, 2010}   Being RESPONSIBLE

I don’t think they honestly accounted for everything in their life, and I only hang out with people who are perfectly upright and honest. Just because the trail is cold doesn’t mean that I won’t find some dirt if I continue to probe around out here. I mean seriously, all these dimwits. If you really think you can play the sanity defense on me again, than think again. I don’t want to have you come in again and say, Well, I had rational reasons for not going crazy with you. Don’t you know how badly that plays out with the press these days? They need a scandal, and if you won’t bring it to them, I will. In big letters: “Guy pleads the santity defense AGAIN. Might as well make it the new fifth.” Nice coverage, don’t you think? When the banker handed out the receipt to the customer, he was only following protocol. Don’t you think for yourself, you retarded banker? Enough people follow protocol these days, and what made you decide you had to follow the rules too? Oh so you whine about how you didn’t want to get fired. That’s what really gets ME started. All these people tip-toeing around not thinking about what they are doing because there might be consequences. Well guess what, your tip-toeing has now created CONSIDERABLE consequences in that there is a turnover rate higher than all of your negative, mean-spirited thoughts about Gucci put together. The government has to step in and plant nukes in your yard just to get rid of the weeds. And then you will be at fault for the toxins that give your fetus cancer. SAVE THE FETUS! I mean, can’t you people get anything wrong these days? It is so exhausting to hear over and over again about how important it is to have things be right. Post a command, stand on the street handing out dimes to people “free dimes,” but don’t bother me with your logic. I don’t want to hear it. Go crawl under a box and moo. I mean it this time. If I see you hanging around my window again, I might call a window-cleaner. His name is Mario, and he wants to sleep with me. I don’t mean it the way you think I mean it. I mean it the way Mario thinks about it. And personally, I really don’t want to know how he thinks about it because the way he goes on and on about beauty is overrated. How does he get anybody in bed with him? Honestly, how do people get in bed with one another these days when pores can be large and hairs can be grown and the person next to you might be in the habit of biting their nails? A nail-biter in bed with you, how will you explain that to the lawyer you fight with in the custody battles? I just don’t know what to say to you, Joe Shmoe. You have always held a grudge for me, and as for you, I can take you or leave you, sort of like salmonella poisoning. You don’t seem to appreciate my fine inability to do things, and that REALLY MAKES ME MAD! Don’t you know how rare it is to find somebody who is  schizo-affective, bipolar, borderline, histrionic, oppositionally defiant, and full of anxiety, too? I mean, really. So interesting, so beautiful, blah blah blah, and you want to throw it away because it doesn’t sound boring enough! So you don’t want to introduce me to your parents, or your friends, or anybody for that matter. I offered to hide in a closet, and you said NO? You really must be some creep. I’m taking myself out of the equation, and without me in it, there is nothing of interest for the attorney anymore. Mario won’t clean your house anymore, that’s for sure, not without me there discussing his problems with him. And Barbie won’t send you flashes of her tits without me to pump up the damage level of what she is doing- (if she can’t ruin a relationship, she won’t show up, hot stuff.) I have to say, I’ve met a lot of people who weren’t sick, but you just take the cake. Put that broom away, won’t you? Turn off that basketball game and drive me around. That’s better. Hear my breathing? Oh, that’s called being turned ON. And no, it’s not normal. Don’t call the doctor this time around, and don’t ask me what pills are in my bag. They could be vitamins. If they aren’t drugs, then you will be so stricken and forlorn, I won’t know what to do with you. So goodnight. Sleep well. No more of those things you talk about so rarely. Can’t you be more redundant than you already are? I’ve already forgotten about half of those interesting stories you used to tell about so-and-so. You don’t trust me, but that made it interesting. But you have to mix it up, and no, I won’t call you sweetheart. You have to trust me occasionally. Otherwise I will burn that tight leash you have me on. I know, you like how docile it makes me look. Oh well. Look for the docility in yourself! I know it’s there, somewhere. Well, actually, knowing you, maybe not, but isn’t that why I- I WILL NOT USE A WORD LIKE LOVE HERE- felt a certain disgust for you? Of course it is. Okay, I REALLY DO HAVE TO GO NOW. So stop avoiding my calls, because it is too repetitive right now, and I thought you didn’t like to repeat yourself! And you thought you were boring me with how boring you are.

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As if I think meaning is nothing if it doesn’t hold a key or clue to how to handle the future but if some one doesn’t know how to be in your life now how can you expect them to ever figure out how to be in your life later?  I mean how can you trust them to figure it out if they only show signs that they don’t try their best. You don’t care if their best is 20 percent, as long as they are trying, you can make do with 20 percent. But something is holding them back, they won’t tell you. Is it something you did? They flounder in an out of your life, making you feel so much better, so connected and alive for once,  then leaving you out in the cold to shoulder your own time bomb.

“I relieve you of your obligation of caring of me,” they say, but no can do. All I did was doggedly search for a way, single minded as always, ignoring every wound, but I  keep going. A determined heart and a reckless bold mind- I wish it were the other way around, with the determined mindset and a bold heart? Hell, I don’t know. Every part of me seems bold but also hesitant as hell. Either way.. It’s scaring me, What I mean is that I scare me but I don’t care about fear. It’s okay to be afraid. Like that little saying ever did anybody any good.. it probably has.



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