Archive for June, 2012

Third Wheel

Posted: June 28, 2012 in otiose

I am perpetually the third wheel
which is odd
because I don’t socialize or do anything in groups.

I should not find myself in this awkward and superfluous position so often.

My living situation, however, almost always renders me the third wheel
and this has been the case since I made the financial decision
that I cannot afford to live on my own.

At any rate, I feel like I’m a child in the middle of a divorce right now
(and this is not the first time I’ve been in this position even though my original parents are still comfortably, if not always happily, married)
as I sit in an off the books civil union that’s entering into the fisticuffs stage
of an illegitimate custody battle over large screen televisions and kitty cats.

No joke.

While they brood and brawl and occasionally embark upon a verbal assault through me
I’m left to watch over the well-being of the kitty cats
fend for myself in relocating
and don’t give a flying fuck about the TV.

In short, I’m moving.
Moving two miles from my original relocation
on extremely short notice
once again
and I’m sick of moving.

I’m sick of seeing relationships crumble from the inside out.

I am not in a serious relationship, because I am not in the mood to put forth the effort
or emotional investment needed to make such a thing function.
I’m also still disgustingly ensnared in a tussle with unrequited love

Or delusions of such a thing.

Regardless, I definitely do not want to experience the drama that goes with a serious relationship that is not even mine, even if I’ve made a cameo appearance.

Sorry, kitties.
At least, in the end, someone will take you along and continue to love you.

I’m going back to a doggy household.

not on the list

Posted: June 18, 2012 in otiose

I once made a list of some of the things I like most about life
including only things that can be easily enjoyed for absolutely no money.
I made this list for a guy that complained that I didn’t like anything.

Then he complained that the list was too long.

He said I was never happy
but that if I did certain things, I’d be happy.
I believe they were things that would have made him happy with me
while detracting from my overall possibilities for happiness
even though he was adamant that he was already happy
and while I will admit that I am not a naturally happy person
for the most part
I am just fine with whatever current state of unhappy I am

for the most part.

He constantly told me not to complain about my poverty
although I did very little complaining.
I merely stated that I could not afford to do a great many things
and that statement is entirely true.

Only regarding a few points, do I lament my poverty.
Namely, I can’t afford to pay someone else to teach me Calculus
and I’m not sure if my frustration with this is in the lack of money
or more likely
a simple frustration with my own lack of aptitude to handle it skillfully
on my own.

Eventually I responded, because all of these assessments were starting to weigh heavy.
I told him that he was full of shit
and that he would make me happy by shutting the fuck up.

Of course, he didn’t listen.

bound

Posted: June 17, 2012 in hidden admonishment

We took two very different paths, and while I stand two years shy of where you are now
I’ll never get there.
Maybe due to something as simple as hardline reciprocity rules.

There was one fleeting moment when I honestly wanted what you have amassed for yourself.
There was also a brief period when everyone thought I would surpass you.

You say this is because I didn’t sell my soul
that I’m lucky
because I have no obligations.

I say nothing.

You will always think you understand me, and I will always look to you in agonizing confusion.
I don’t want to see you.
I don’t ever want to see you, and I’m uncomfortable talking to you

and I’m unhappy
compounded
because I can’t express any unhappiness
without appearing childish and narcissistic.

I will come to terms…
I will meet your terms.
I’ll do what you ask and come when you call

but I can’t fix this.
I don’t even want to try anymore.

This is going to be the last time.

the parlor trick

Posted: June 12, 2012 in transliteration
Tags:

For over five years, the most superficial thoughts of creating a drawing or a painting not only caused me to mentally shut down, but also prompted me to actively fight off the desire to hurt myself. No one knows, because there’s no one to tell, and suicidal ideation still has a nasty, emo, drama-queen stigma. I am chemically imbalanced, blah, blah, blah.

Insincerity.

Fuck everyone that has ever conversed with me from the healthy bird’s-eye view of absolute bullshit pertaining to mental stability. There’s nothing to say, because there’s no one to tell, so…as with every lapse in my personal history, to the expressed amazement of multiple clinical health specialists whose expertise ranges far beyond my budget…I somehow manage to pull through.

Incongruous.

I’d still like to stab a compass needle in and tear from wrist to elbow on my left side. Maybe, I think, if I twist my arm just right, I can wedge the sturdy steel bar between ulna and radius.
It’s not about cutting
and it’s certainly not about suicide.
It’s not even simple self-destruction.
It’s really not much different from my desire to drink
or fuck strangers
or teach myself calculus from textbooks I find in the trash
books which are only salvageable because the Americanized Chinese buffet moved to the next strip mall down the block.

Eating from such dumpsters is dangerous.
Reading from them is…mostly harmless.

I turned down money.
I did this.
I fought with people who saw potential and wanted to help me establish myself.
I ignored
dodged
and sabotaged the prospects of a career based on my “talent.”

We’ve been over this
and over it
and I’m fucking over it.

I walked away from an education I loathed, and I still don’t know why I went back to it
aside from finding myself so far adrift that an outsider was able to distracted me from the lure of a bridge and
tell me what to do.

A bridge I was later detained in the back of a squad car for visiting
and a person who later asked me to abandon what was previously advised that I return to.

I met you during the interim, when I was just going through the motions.

Waiting.

I still turn down money.
I still fail to return inquisitive calls.
I still blacklist people who ask me to perform.
I make myself extremely hard to find
or even contact
and this is not an accident.

I still fucking miss you.

And it’s still hard for me to coax the rabbit from its hat
but I will.

I will make peace without subjugation.

Quiet in the dark watching the rabbits in the kitchen
and the rabbits in the snow
and the rabbits in the mountains
and the rabbits in their cages
commercials
children’s books.
Top hats for cats, but no rabbits in hats
and you think you know all the answers.
You think you’re so fucking smart.

Maybe.

Maybe you are.

I felt obligated, because you went to the trouble of sending me pink colored pencils through the mail.
That does not mean that I am now at your beck and call.

It’s much closer to meaning that the next package will rebound
unopened
“Return to Sender”

I’m busy.
Busy working on my math at 2:00 in the morning.
Busy ignoring the subterranean river of shit.

Posted: June 5, 2012 in proselytizaytion

irresponsible

Posted: June 5, 2012 in otiose
Tags: ,

I’ve been saving loose change for approximately a year and a half to replace an expensive sheet of glass that a former housemate broke.
We’re talking about a $200 sheet of glass here. We’re talking about a lot of change. We’re talking about picking pennies up off the street when I go for walks at two in the morning.

Sigh…

Well, I didn’t budget properly this month, so I’m $100 short on a rent check that I already signed and handed to my housemate a week ago. Mind you, a week ago, I had enough to cover rent and four days from now, I’ll have enough again. Now, however, I’m coming up short. This is all due to an impulsive trip I took over Memorial Day weekend…which is now costing me a year of penny pinching.

I could ask my housemate not to cash the check for another four days, but I don’t feel like I should do that. Rent is my responsibility to pay on time, and I have always paid on time. I have done crazy things just to pay my rent on time. Usually, I have enough foresight to know when I’m going to be short for the upcoming month, but that trip I took was just…impulsively stupid.

This is what poverty really looks like, so fuck you for whining when you can’t pay your bills. You buy stupid shit all the time. I forfeit food when I want liquor, and I walk to and from work (an hour each way at a brisk clip) if I need to buy bird food.

So, no…I don’t sympathize with you at all, and I don’t expect you to pity me either. I put myself in the situation I’m in, and I will eventually climb out if I stop doing stupid, impulsive shit.

I will probably never stop doing stupid, impulsive shit.