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Musical Release

21 Nov

I have to say that I really fucking hate it when I’m right about things. I mean, when it involves a couple of friends rectifying some bitchfest just because they finally talk, LIKE I SUGGESTED, and realize that it was a buncha crap; that shit’s cool. But it’s the times where I know I’ve put myself completely out on the line, and I know that line is going to get cut, that make me want to swear to a life of celibacy. I don’t know why I do it cause I get really pissy and emotional while I am waiting to find out if those scissors are gonna snap or not, so it’s not that I do it for the emotional rush – I feel like a fucking asshole who is miserable all of the time, for Christ’s sake! And I don’t do it to make the other person feel sorry for me, either. I don’t want to be pittyed, damnit! So, I figure that I am either someone who gets their kicks from being  kicked or I must do it because I am fucking INSANE.  It’s only by the grace of my higher power, and my unrelenting ability to get kicked in the head, and still get back up, that I am sitting in my chair, writing this post with my legs surrounded by 2 dogs and 2 cats instead of sitting on a cot in a padded cell with my legs surrounded by restraint devices. Do you know what the definition of Insanity is? “Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.” Yup, learned that gem when I was hitting up those happenin’ N.A. meetings with my ex…but I digress. I can only deduct that INSANITY is what leads me down these dead end paths. It provokes me by dangling a moments worth of hope in front of me like a carrot on a string. It knows that it only takes one little glimmer of the possibility of things going how I want them to go, to hook me. I drop like a fucking horse from a gun. Then I’m stuck, by the proverbial hook, line and sinker.

You’d think knowing this about myself would enable me to NOT put my fragile emotional state into such ridiculously perilous positions, but alas, it does not. My brilliance only helps me in as far as NOT getting my hopes up about anything. I like to consider myself a cynical romantic. I want someone to hold the door for me, I just expect that he’s going to slam it in my face. I want to spill all my messed up thoughts to someone and not have him judge me, but I know that he will, so I keep everything inside. I want to love and be loved, but I know it’s impossible. And I can’t think of another person who is even more of a cynical romantic than I could ever hope to be, except for the fantastic Ani DiFranco.

Ani DiFranco’s Gravel

I heard the sound of your bike
As your wheels hit the gravel
And your engine in the driveway, cutting off
I pushed through the screen door
And I stood out on the porch
Thinking fight, fight, fight, at all costs

But instead I let you in
Just like I’ve always done
I sat you down and offered you a beer
And across the kitchen table
I fired several rounds
But you were still sitting there when the smoke cleared

You came crawling back to say
That you want to make good in the end
Oh, let me count the ways that I abhore you
You were never a good lay
And you never were a good friend
But oh, what can I say, I adore you

All I need is my leather
One t-shirt and two socks
I’ll keep my hands warm in your pockets
And you can use the engine blocks
We’ll ride out to california
With my arms around your chest
And I’ll pretend this is real
Cuz this is what I like best

You’ve been juggling two women
Like a stupid circus clown
Telling both we are the one
And maybe you can keep me
From ever being happy
But you’re not going to stop me
From having fun

So let’s go, before I change my mind
I’ll leave the luggage of all your lies behind
Cuz I am bigger than everything that came before
You were never very kind
And you let me way down every time
But oh, what can I say, I adore you

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