“if i needed you, would you come to me?”
It’s a simple question, but not such a simple answer.
A common person would say, “well, it depends, do you need money? If so, then no.”
A heartless person would say “I’ve got my own demons to deal with.”
Me, I would say “Eh, I don’t have much, but what do you need?”
And thus is the definition of a ruse.
I care too much, I give too much credibility to those that perhaps don’t deserve that much. At the same time I have to look in the mirror and realize that the face staring back at me might need help when she doesn’t deserve it either. It’s a ebb and flow. I’m the biggest proponent for saying that we all make mistakes, but if they are mistakes that are obviously self destructive, then, vaya con dios….I’m not helping you.
I love, I love without boundaries. I love those that have hurt me and those that I have never met. At the same time I hate. I can hate those that I love and those that I’ve never met. I have a broad spectrum of emotions, which is healthy. I can be hurt by those that love; I can be loved by total strangers. It’s the way of the world. There is a population that changes every second, who’s to say who likes/loves/hate/encourages/dissipates/enrages who.
This is where I stand right now. I realize that the only cheerleaders I’ll ever have are my own. There isn’t a moment that i can’t make a statement against somebodies belief, love, affliction, that will turn them against me instantly. It’s okay though, I can promise you no different. If you say that Viburnums are the weeds of the world and if you say that the color brown is meant only for poop, you’ll have me to deal with. For these things I’ll be the cheerleader to the death. I’ll fight for what I think is right.
I don’t care though, we can fight. You can tell me that the only acceptable color is red and the only acceptable shrub is the Abelia,…your preference is yours….not mine.
And here I sit, broken hearted…wanted to poop but only farted.
See! Some would say bad taste. Some would say par for the course, considering the messenger.
What I really want to get across is that we all live in our own mutiny. We have our own crew that want to throw us over, but it’s up to us to keep them under control. (rough comparison is that if you have a belly ache and you feel like you’re going to blow donk, you tell yourself “please, don’t blow donk” and before you know it you feel better.)
I shrug and keep upon my trek, what else can I do.
I’ll admit to a few things, hoping to make karma on my side…
1)I don’t like the Stones album “Goats Head Soup”
2) The song “boy named Sue” could be any American adolescent
3) Anybody that thinks Pete Townsend is authentic deserves to accept the fact that Happy Meals are made from 100% authentic black angus beef
4) Those that believe in Hunter S Thomspson have to take a reality check and know that if you’re going to live like a proper dysfunctional writer, Ernest Hemingway is the way to go.
5) There are never enough trains leaving the station, especially if you’re hoping for somebody to be on one of those trains.
6) The shadows of the past aren’t dust stains, they are imprints of history that should teach you about the future. If men have laid down and let their bones die in a certain area for a certain cause, you should take notice that they are not alive anymore and the cause is probably moot.
7) In dealing with family matters, listen to side two of Led Zeppelin II and realize that a long term healthy relationship has to be like the song ” Moby Dick”, not in a perverse sort of way, but in the way you realize that it’s going to be long and sometimes boring, but it’s always going to be good…….even if you HATE drum solos.
8) “and if the damn breaks open”, it doesn’t really matter, what’s going to happen is you’re going to get wet. Wanna argue? Watch “O’ Brother Where Art Thou'”
9) “If I could just get off of this LA Freeway without getting killed or caught”….need I say more. Anybody that has tried to get from point A to B in LA in a hurry has only two things stuck in their mind….may I miss traffic and may I miss cops….it doesn’t happen.