my personal oil slick

13 06 2010

I watch the TV and feel an oily existence seeping from my gaping wound. I turn it off and I turntable some Stones and close my eyes wandering off to my own not so happy place. 

You ever think why are people so screwed up? You see it all the time so seemingly obvious, the cheat, the lie, narcissistically a society seemingly oblivious to their own self absorbed behavior. Yet from my own righteousness based on a foundation of moral flaws (knowing the difference), my correctness about right and wrong is sometimes brought into question a brief  moment of doubt a  moment of angst that maybe it’s not them that are so screwed up but it’s me(ref why so flawed). What if I am the ignorant one? Anymore people seem to excel at an unreasonable rate of success regardless as to their actual pedigree or ability to work hard making the right choices, an actual reward for their misgivings….imagine that. I wonder if they really know when they commit said crime, not when an actually law is broken but that the law of morality is being abused. With no moral police to remind us that you are about to cheat and manipulate that they might in small way understand the true damage, not likely. Perform some act of idiocy and it’s more likely that you will be rewarded. These days, we can manipulate a whole cultural change steeped in “I’m an idiot but I don’t care” so watch me on a reality show or performing every night at the local night club in the board room or as an acting politician. Ah yes doesn’t it seem obvious(?), so why reward it, maybe because it seems so removed from who we are,  yet highly entertaining??. My fear accepting it seems make an adjustment bringing it into the facet of everyday living. So again maybe I’m wrong. I mean I live with my guilt, I do the idiot role quite well sometimes  thank you. I know when I sleep with women that 9 out of 10 times it’s not an expression of love moreover lust and I feel bad of course after the fact not before or during while I am fully engorged. When I instill a false sense of hope knowing that it’ll be a minimal chance of success  I know I have manipulated the situation to motivate, wrong all the same. But you see I know when I am doing it, the scary part is that people seem to so easily justify their action and project into the mire of victimization so quickly these days and we the other faction pay the price caught up in your oil slick of lies. I guess history repeats itself, most advanced societies have fallen to similar deception. It seems so obvious and the fact that it doesn’t seem to be is more troublesome as we are all self-absorbed to a degree.  I guess I will return to my perch amongst the eroding rock from which I observe and hope that the whole of those who do not know get a proverbial bitch slap to wake us all up ……or maybe it’s just me and if this is the case I will go quietly….right!!!





excitable boy

26 05 2010

It’s a decrepit attitude, henceforth ever in decline with every passing day but it’s mine, owned and distributed by me. Molded and formed, I pass some of the credit to others. Never more the resilient child that I was, the child that could be brought back to the former shape by those close to me. I now wobble and steer a crooked path through life. Still hoping to hit in the general proximity of the objective I once saw as easily achievable. No the false sense of security replaced by a vanishing vantage point of life’s successes, a Warren Zevon parable of loss, truth and love. Self pity no, altruistic hardly an observation mostly. It’s an endurance test, a race, in life things come up short, people are pliable but not indestructible and fail to regain their resiliency with the constant battering, an inherent flaw or modest effort in gaining grace or losing faith.

 “Carmelita hold me tight I think I’m sinking down”  I can appreciate a line so prolific considering the source, I raise my glass to you Mr. Zevon  as those sounds emit from my speakers as the bourbon soaks into my porous soul. You can seek refuge but can you ever truly escape the storm, when the storm is all you’ve ever known….hope says yes and in the moment that maybe enough.





why so flawed?

18 12 2009

It’s my parent’s fault……..well not all of it but in a way as many good parents do unknowingly they instilled in me an inherent flaw. It’s not something you can necessarily pin point other than that navigational beacon in the midst of the fog covered moral complications we all encounter on our life’s journey. Mom and Dad did a good job, my moral compass has lead me to do what’s right at those junctures where it would have been so easy to take the road more well traveled. Even now at 40 I still want to kick the asses of those little bastards, morally incompetent kids that cheated at kickball, tether ball and the assorted playground games…..you know who you are, or do you? I knew if I played by the rules and they didn’t I could never say anything, I just hoped their conscience would get the better of them and wham they would apologize for winning the game unfairly…..I’m still waiting. Maybe only now the bitterness has moved so far deep into my bones that I ache for the ignorance of not knowing when the lie presents itself but my bullshit meter is finely honed and my moral compass keeps me in this rabbit hole. Now I am not so righteous that I won’t admit to having tried my best to be an unmodel citizen of the used and abused but as a lady once told me as I left church, as she ever so gently lay her hand on my shoulder  “you always do what’s right in the end” I think it was my big J.C. moment she was right I was and would always be inherently flawed despite the wrongs which have been levied against me. I am the walking wounded but consciously aware of my predicament.

 Things really started to unraveled 6 years ago and for the embarrassment of every bereaved and cheated spouse I am still for intensive purposes still depraved and waiting for my saving grace but it seems that if humility is the doorway to grace, it’s a much bigger fucking door in my case. I still seek companionship from the other survivors of similar shipwrecks but damn if the other survivors know how to make the most of driftwood to stay afloat. Myself I let go so they might have a fighting chance…why? again my parents did a good job as I bubble to a deeper depth. I have every intent on just making wildlife documentaries with these fine persons and somewhere along the sexually exploitive nature of this short film my conscious kicks in, knowing the only attachment is the sexual organ donation I have made. Women definitely fall in love quicker and seem to have the ability to fallout even faster…maybe it’s the nature in which I stay and try to explain how it’s me…. not them, the perfection in my absolving any misgivings is my final masterpiece. They seem to stabilize and kick the afterburner of feelings into their jet stream, finding love as quickly as they have left it and me I watch in udder disbelief that I could have actually felt bad but comforted in the manner in which I handled the breakup…”.I always do what’s right in the end “ as I light up my last cigarette and slowing fade into some generous helping of self loathing.

 I’m having Christmas dinner with my ex and her new husband ( mr infidelity #2) they want to show me their newly remodeled bathroom, cinema room in their home on the North side of town, yes the renovations I paid for because I pay my child support in advance. The dinner will be a choking reminder of my shortfall but I will smile and eat their ham because it’s not often I get pity and gloating all in the same meal. I smoke cigarettes much better these days and my only salvation is the thought of my reward as soon as I get into my vehicle, that is if I don’t slip and bust my ass on their expansive newly paved driveway. I will drive back to my rented house a third of the size of theirs, my rent half the size of my monthly support check, back in the bad part of town, back to where the other down on your luck folks live, the ones who have done the right thing ? or maybe despite our best effort it’s an inevitable gather place for lost souls. No Christmas music this year, another smoke maybe, the drift, the sonnet of some sweet Rolling Stones as I close my eyes and fall asleep with a clear conscious that I have done what my parents have always wanted of me….I am a good boy albeit inherently flawed.