What do you do?

"I'm a waitress.  I sort of write, I used to paint.  I think I'm going to be one of those people with a lot of potential who never really takes off."


-Rebecca Miller

A hurricane passes over us and her name is Irene.  So nice to meet you Irene.  You've been kind thus far.  Please don't ever change.  You gave me the day off with double pay.  You gave me insight into human nature, placing hysteria under a microscope, with little consequence.  Congregation, indulgence, dropped obligation, sometimes we need you, all at once.  You also free up time in my schedule.  How darling of you.  Be a dear, keep it up.  Do come and see us again, not before too long.

What do we want?  Love and understanding!  When do we want it?  Whenever it's available!

You get to the point where you decide you won't stand for it anymore, but then find yourself more alone than ever.  You conclude this kind of loneliness you can deal with, because at the very least there's integrity in it, whereas the other species of loneliness makes you feel emptier than you've ever been, no matter how many people surround you.  

Cats and rats are too much alike, which is why they don't get along.

The Smallest Violin in the World

Oh angst!  Remove thy hands from off my throat!  I do not seek thee by any means! 

I search for someone purely as a means of escape.  I exert myself physically, in order to avoid.  I chase lofty dreams.  I convince myself otherwise.  I say, you don't have to if you don't want to. You can be selfish if you so choose.  My angst is still not quelled.

I place my heart in your hands and you drop it on your walk home.  You don't even hear it splatter when it hits heavy upon the sidewalk.  You just stroll along, head in the clouds, reaching for a cigarette.  Long forgotten.  Happiness is a four letter word.

I fight not to be alone, because I'm supposed to be alone.  This is my path and it was chosen for me.  You were placed along this path so you could kick me as I crossed you.  You didn't necessarily mean harm, you just couldn't help yourself.  I wear the bruises of lovers past.  Some take longer to heal than others, some never go away, some are forever hidden from sight.

Do we flourish when happy?  Or are we weakened by our joy?  This is the way it goes when we blindly we lead our lives, driven by false notions, unsure of the difference between need and want.  And I continue paddling upstream with a disposable spoon.  I sure am thirsty, can somebody please hand me an ore?

I suck the medicine into my lungs and I think about how to grow up quickly.  Or at least, at an accelerated rate.

Step 2.

Go away.  Go far away from everything you know.  Go to a place where you don't have a damn thing.  Go to a place where you have no friends, no family, no job.  Go where no immediate sense of support exists.  Strip the walls of comfort down.  Though you may fall apart when the thick, velvet curtains are parted and you stand naked in the piercing light of dawn, trembling and terrified, don't be too shocked when you still find yourself alone.  Don't be surprised when the "right thing," or the answer to your problems doesn't come.  Oh sure, you can call home, cry and complain to your hearts content.  But when your lifeline dries up, there is no choice.  You must go it alone.  Suffer, sisters!

This may lead you to drink, or cry, or seek bad sex from a stranger.  This may lead to severe anxiety, longing, insomnia, credit card debt, over-eating and self loathing.  You might also become a drag to be around, angry and abusive to your fellow man.  Your heart will harden, sure.  But months, maybe years later, you will look back on the multitude of difficulties you decidedly brought upon yourself.  You fool, they said to you.  No one understood why you chose to suffer the way you did, and you still can't quite explain it to them, but you will admit the occasional surrender to fearlessness propels you in a necessary direction.  Because right now, you can't imagine your life any other way.