Splicetoday

Writing
Nov 27, 2018, 05:55AM

I Stand Convicted Of Assholism

Our heads can be prison or paradise.

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Living up to expectations is like pissing in a leaky bucket. Never fills up enough to satisfy acceptance. Not that a bucketful of urine is something desirable but attempting to prove something while seeking approval leaves only an empty box of regret. Searching for eternal love everlasting while feeling unworthy in forever’s sorrow. Looking for that elusive creature of raw true emotion. The old saw, “No good deed goes unpunished” sounds trite or truthful but fills no buckets. It might fill a bottle cap. A thimbleful of appreciation, a speck of acknowledgement. If you’re lucky maybe a harrumph or ahem.

Seeing stars cross evening skies, even the darkness sheds some light. Viewing distant headlights, two dots in the distance moving closer, growing larger, piercing through the night on some desolate open road. This is how we witness life. To see a dim light grow, burning brighter than any old sun. A candle inside the heart of matters. Glowing auras of colors dance in your eyes like original thought dawning. The birth of light. It feels like the beginning, stupefied with love, drunk with wonder.

The senses feel so lively in a comedy of calamity, always trying to please someone else who isn't remotely interested in you. Any group that will have you, or beware of those spears, bows and arrows. To be welcomed into the circle of shared experience no matter how much of a ragtag misfit you are. A basic instinct to feel wanted, needed from the outside otherness and return it to the fold in kind. Taken to the cleaners. The less valued currency of diminishing returns coming up short in the estimation of others. Like a penny on the ground. The lost and found of love and life.

My ambitions are waning. I still feel illusions of being young; have childish pipe dreams that accompany youthful spirit. Like shadows playing, moving just out of sight. A vibrant life in a world of old grumps yearning to be free from man-made restrictions. Telling us what can and can't be done. Only to stand accused of being human among inhuman trials and tribulations. Rules and regulations put in place to keep us away from ourselves and distant to others. Condemning those who question authority. Always asking why. How come you get the bigger slice of pie?

Not counting my failures, the big letdowns and crap-outs and to all who are disappointed. My achievements are few and many, goals large and small. I've accomplished much but still trying. More than some yet never enough. It’s of no consequence to dwell on letdowns and unfinished business. Waving both fists at the void and yelling, “I’m still here… where the hell are you?”

This urge to always prove something can be exhausting and costly. This proof of being alive is like a receipt of life. Wanting others to like you and getting their award is your reward. Everyone depends on the approval of another. This leapfrog piggyback ride of needy aspirations boggles the mind. We crawl over each other’s dreams only to crave more. I need to write out of some weird necessity and want you to read, like, and even love my words. We love and expect love in return. It gets twisted, even demented and perverse when love is not given freely. It can drive one to insanity, murder or suicide.

No matter how hard I try there’re some folks out there who will never accept, like or love me. Friends and family alike may’ve been put off or displeased by something I said or did. Words and actions can be lethal. You can’t force people to listen. Reject my feelings or accept them. Be open to my ideas and beliefs or not. There’s nothing I can do, say or write that can change your mind or how you feel. That’s your burden. If I’m a crusty sourpuss who spouts negative doom, tough luck.

Believing the world is a cruel place rife with danger and uncertainty is my weight to bear. Thinking most people are ruthless only concerned with themselves is my partial take on the human condition. I also feel there’s great joy and happiness. It’s not all tragic and evil. In the same breath, it’s not all pretty flowers, butterflies and rainbows.

Some would throw away the key and order a life sentence of misery and suffering to any who oppose or disagree with their thinking or way of life. Our heads can be prison or paradise. Too many point the finger and accuse without a thought of compassion or sympathy to the plight of others. I’m in no position to help or hinder. Then again that’s how we act here in the land of plenty. Shoot first and question later or just kill them all and let god figure it out. 

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