“…heroin drip, no more so…”

Posted in Uncategorized on June 14, 2015 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve written, a few times, about the rupturing of my appendix and its repercussions on me.

 

The pain.

 

The abject agony.

 

But, most of all, the beauty and wonder of Dilaudid (Hydromorphone Hydrochloride).

 

 

 

With all of the above firmly in mind, I’m compelled to say that the song accompanying this post wrenches a bitter smile from me.

 

While listening to it, I think of how I was a (barely) functional alcoholic for at least five years.

 

[Selena Gomez: “I know I’m acting a bit crazy…”]

 

While carefully perceiving every lyric, I reminisce on what a joy the drug they pumped into me twice a day was.

 

[“…strung out, a little bit hazy…”]

 

 

 

Even now – sipping whiskey and dragging off of a cigarette –  as the song pulses through my headphones, thinking on how many would say I never learn and how my behavior is self-destructive.

 

Counter-productive.

 

Downright foolish.

 

[“… hand over heart I’m prayin’, that I’m going to make it out alive…”]

 

 

 

Yet, simultaneously, her words have ~239,509,552 views.

 

~1,606,708 “likes”.

 

As most reading this are inclined to think I’m a pathetic excuse for an adult.

 

[“Save your advice, ’cause I won’t hear

 

you might be right, but I don’t care.

 

There’s a million reasons why I should give you up…”]

 

Thus, I state, in a pleading and shaking voice:

 

My veins want what they want.

 

 

 

Heh.

 

Just kidding.

 

Even I don’t buy my bullshit reason.

 

Funny how many buy her’s.

 

 

 

 

 

“…’Tell me, mother, will I die?’ ‘Yes, my child, and so shall I’…”

Posted in Uncategorized on June 10, 2015 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

There is a great deal about flowers that fascinate me.

 

Their vibrant colors.

 

Their aroma.

 

Their texture.

 

Even their ephemeral nature.

 

 

 

However, while certainly appealing, life-affirming and sometimes nigh on hypnotic—

 

Flowers are not altruistic.

 

They haven’t developed their charms simply for the sake of them.

 

Or for the sole goal of pleasing the viewer.

 

 

 

Now, as much as I may enjoy them (and I certainly do), I don’t forget an important biological fact:

 

They create a form, an image and overall powerful impression of enticement for a purpose.

 

That purpose is to get certain needs of the plant met.

 

Reproduction being chief among them.

 

 

 

See, nature has granted wiles to life that is at the mercy of the whims of stronger creatures.

 

And, so very well have these attractive things weaved their magick—

 

Much of the world has slipped, like the Lotophagi, into the dream that they are not the one’s being used.

 

Blissful in their torpor.

 

 

 

 

 

“The look on your face don’t deceive me; I told you before, so believe me…”

Posted in Uncategorized on June 2, 2015 by A♠

 

 

 

 

After we’ve been dating for a few weeks, I take a moment that is pleasant – not exciting, dramatic or particularly memorable – but pleasant.

 

Then stop it with gentleness and firmness.

 

Looking her in the eyes, holding her gaze – like a father would his child – I say:

 

You know, if you’re ever discontent here (in this relationship) or feel you could do better

 

I want you to leave.

 

 

 

I give her a moment to grasp the statement.

 

Then I go on with the day.

 

I’ve done this with more than one woman.

 

And I’ll do it with every one of them until the day I die.

 

 

 

I make this proclamation to her/them for a few reasons:

 

1} Women, being the ultimate pragmatists, will do it anyway.

 

Thus, my words are actually of little consequence.

 

2} Speaking such aloud is an icy reminder for myself that – at the end of the day – we are together at her whim.

 

Nothing more; nothing less.

 

3} It puts the frame under my control, even when it’s not.

 

In fact, especially when it’s not.

 

 

 

Permit me to be clear, the sincerity of my statement is total.

 

Regardless of my reasons.

 

I Truly want her contentment.

 

And I very much want her gone if I’m not her primary concern.

 

 

 

Personally, I find it best to play with all my cards on the table.

 

Since I only need one.

 

 

 

 

 

Absence Makes The Heart Grow Emptier

Posted in Uncategorized on June 2, 2015 by A♠

A♠:

This man understands me.

No doubt.

Originally posted on Donal Graeme:

Background: One of the deepest writers in the entire ‘sphere also happens to be one of those who writes the least: Ace of Spades. His posts can sometimes be just a few short sentences in length, spaced apart by the occasional break. When added together they rarely amount to more than a paragraph or two. However, each word is fraught with meaning (almost always on multiple levels), and he can accomplish with a few lines what others need an essay to convey. Yet the insight he hopes to convey isn’t always obvious, and all of his posts need to be “unpacked” (or unzipped, to use computer terminology) to some degree. I’ve unpacked posts of his before, and he expressed appreciation for my effort. At the same time he asked me to make similar efforts in the future, and this post follows in that path.

The post I want…

View original 2,686 more words

“… you’ll see, if you just close your eyes.”

Posted in Uncategorized on May 27, 2015 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

One of the most foolish and downright insulting things I hear said by people, about whom I care and those I’ve never even met, is this:

 

“I’m too nice.”

 

Why does that upset me?

 

I’ll explain.

 

 

 

First, the individual is saying (perhaps not directly to me, but…) I don’t deserve the level of kindness they show me.

 

Fucking… what‽

 

I’m generous with my time, effort, emotional resources and, when I have them, financial means.

 

Now, in a way, the individual is right.

 

(Although, for the wrong reasons.

 

Which is worse than being wrong.)

 

I don’t deserve their kindness.

 

I fucking earned it.

 

 

 

Second, being “nice” – in and of itself – has never hurt anyone.

 

Ever.

 

Full stop.

 

However, being kind and generous has hurt people that:

 

A} Can’t afford to give.

 

Or

 

B} Give to unappreciative assholes.

 

So, no; no one is “too nice”.

 

Rather, they are too indiscriminate with their kindness.

 

Thus, the problem is one of judgment.

 

Not generosity.

 

 

 

Third, and finally, to forgo kindness and consideration is to cut the cycle of reciprocity.

 

Someone burned you in the past?

 

So your solution is to punish all those that enter your life after the ingrate?

 

Here’s a knife.

 

That nose of yours needs to go.

 

Enjoy the bleeding and the sight of 1,000 doors you just closed.

 

 

 

Instead of the foolhardy, self-defeating, knee-jerk reaction, try this:

 

Practice discretion.

 

Practice introspection.

 

Practice assessment.

 

 

 

Most of all, don’t let a person’s attractiveness or glibness sway you.

 

Sometimes silence speaks loudest.

 

And closed eyes see best.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“… [there’s] oh so many ways for me to show you how your dogma has abandoned you…”

Posted in Uncategorized on May 26, 2015 by A♠

 

 

 

 

[This is a revised for clarity re-post.

 

While the song chosen is, without a doubt, anti-Christian, I’ve decided to interpret the art above to make it speak against a different form of faith.]

 

 

 

All pig-tails and patent-leather shoes.

 

Daddy never seems to care.

 

And fathers are the first glimpse of God all children see.

 

Left little choice, you choose to sin.

 

Just to get some attention.

 

 

 

But boys are not the Almighty.

 

Thus, the emptiness still grows

 

regardless of how much they put in you.

 

 

 

The years fall away and that little girl continues to struggle.

 

(Still wearing pigtails and patent-leather shoes.)

 

To wrestle love from the unloving.

 

To punish herself until absolution arrives.

 

Yet it never does.

 

 

 

The humanist sacristy is empty.

 

The progressive wine is soured.

 

And no one listens in the digital confessional…

 

save the echo.

 

 

 

You were forgiven – and loved – long before you strayed.

 

Oh, child, who told you that you were naked?

 

 

 

 

 

Ω

“…you wouldn’t stay with me if something better comes along…”

Posted in Uncategorized on May 20, 2015 by A♠

 

 

 

 

 

 

In my travels through this digital landscape, I came across the strip linked below:

 

https://imgur.com/a/RmAjE

 

The strip is fairly standard, but one image struck me as particularly self-indulgent.

 

Specifically, the one that reads “Sorry my friendship is a crappy consolation prize!”

 

See, the reason that frame bothers me more than any other is the passive-aggressive arrogance of it.

 

 

 

Putting aside the childishly stated false apology (as irritating as it is), I arrive at this:

 

It isn’t a “crappy consolation prize”.

 

It simply isn’t a prize at all.

 

 

 

It’s wheels on a tomato.

 

It’s a solar powered flashlight.

 

It’s a bowling ball gifted to a golfer.

 

It’s an effectively useless offering.

 

 

 

You’ll “be my friend”?

 

What do we have in common?

 

What are the interests we share?

 

What are the tasks you can and, more importantly, will do for me when I’m in need?

 

 

 

List as many as you like.

 

Take your time.

 

Fill a journal the size of Tolstoy on his most verbose day.

 

It will still be meaningless.

 

Why?

 

Because I already have a handful of men that can and will readily do those things for me.

 

They’ll talk with me.

 

Share with me.

 

Help me out of a jam.

 

I don’t need another person to do those things.

 

Plus, they’ll back me up in a physical altercation, should it be necessary.

 

They’ll also help me move heavy things.

 

The great irony here, is that both men and women seek male friendship for what quantifiable things men can provide.

 

In light of that, the gesture – when offered – is empty.

 

 

 

Not to mention, the majority of women are miserly with their resources, emotional, financial and non-sexually physical.

 

(Yes, NAWALT but I also know people that have seen ghosts and that hardly makes us all believers in the supernatural.)

 

They conserve them, wisely – to be fair, for the men with whom they are enamored (reciprocated or not).

 

So little, if anything, remains for “friends” (least of all male friends, who are expected socially to fend for themselves in all things).

 

 

 

Thus, my sincere, honest and heartfelt response to that frame is:

 

I’m sorry, too.

 

I Truly am.

 

 

 

 

 

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