i wake up with so many thoughts and emotions, having watched Sunday Morning while they foment.
i think how people hold on to things you say and do that means nothing to you, even if you could remember them... but means everything to them, which to me, emphasizes the construction of offense, and foolery. if it werent the person's intent, then what are you beating up about. deconstructing human folly
i think of the accident of interaction. the unevenness of relating
the mamaguy of dynamics. the facebook reunion that was last night.
the wickedness of playing with womens heads. women. hm. wow. seems as if they are wired to have a man. and to see that played out in social scenes limes and settings is amusing. the holding onto, the leaning, the grabbing, and the doing it as if on a switch the minute their 'man' appears to be in any verbal engagement with another woman. it is so funny to me. i am almost always in the conversation but backstage to my mind is the snickering laughing and guffawing at the silly female responses.
but i realize it takes a particular kind of woman to be in relationships, in that mode as described above, to be demure, silent, pliant, easy, comfortable
and then last night a friend telling me that only married and men in relationships would like me because they would not be able to contend otherwise, i am too much for a single man to comprehend and comprise... being with and of the attributes i do, well, a man already hooked will be sure, let me ride. it was amusing. i call it a curse. he saw it differently : just the life and inabilities of males and egos.
that gets me back to offense but i already wrote about that...someone tried to get offended by me not willing to engage them on their topic. it was the first time i danced out of a conflict and walked out of as if to appear taking blame and incompetence. wow. i am really studying sun tzu/
effortlessly, years after reading it. seems to now immersing my soul and body
which gets me to a question for an interview: "Does being a badass make you sad?"
i think of the myriad ways of sadness and loneliness, and the myriad ways people fight and rage against ever feeling those things...like a woman, again, who trails her man everywhere, with anyone willing or blindly overrun to do so...just to find him, to see who he is with, her focus of fear shall remain nameless (shifts uneasy in chair)...and it is the fear of being manless, being alone. her own best male friend explained it so: "She is terrified of getting old and knowing what she traded and built her life upon: her looks are fading" fascinating my human studies and cases
but i learned one grand lesson last year 2013. people are looking to be saved. not to build with you. which gets me to another point i had sometime during the night---it is so hard to make new friends and circles after a certain time of life. there is an expiry date. you also cant hope to drop in as if on a helicopter into a new land, new places, spaces and countries and expect the natives to integrate you and certainly not if you are random, unusual, strange and foreign. talk about loneliness and alienation...but to be sensible, you have to make peace with that. a life story of endless travels, visits, jaunts and schooling in foreign lands makes for great reading and fantastic writings but is turmoil for a personal life. who are you moving with? through life? no one. just your lonesome...but . and. you cant expect anyone to save you from that. any time every time you think that is happening. check yourself. pull yourself up and out..you are going down a rabbit hole. and whomever has you by the hand, taking you somewhere to leave and abandon you. it would be you to catch standing under the spotlight of invasion. all of that to say, find and heal yourself. keep company by yourself. seek out none for sojourn. it is a mirage at best, some form of fakery for the moment. every body is going through stuff. some share most hold back. someone asked me last night plain: "where should a person who has been abused go?" and i just said inside. he thought i did not hear him, leaned into me closer and repeated it. and i repeated myself: inside of yourself. and i write this and realize again something i wrote a long time ago. something i recognized - that all the grand comedy, fun, liming, drinking, women, and sexing, the great personalities, the joie d'vive, the loudest laughter, the endless jaunts... they are of the people carrying the most pain, complexity, struggles and it is their way of masking it. meanwhile us morose and melancholy fools are tainted in all kinds of ways just for being truthful. life is shit and i just trying to get through/without all the games, pretenses and makeup
speaking of makeup i wondered last night about women, or men...and the men when they hook up with these caked faced women, does all that end up on sheets, pillowcases and walls? how do you feel about that? does it even matter? do you care? I was just wondering
yeah. the mind and thoughts of an aimless muse
all because i feel very far away from myself, my soul...at a river, in a river, under a waterfall, walking thick lush grass and ground like up inside maracas. away from noise and people. there. that. the bush. i miss.
i am lost . i have strayed too far away from home. it is terrifying
if i were converting these thoughts into scenes for a film, what would we be watching? of what style directorship? allen/ scorcese/ dash/ lee/... i wonder what kind of film i would make. after writing all of this i thought: show me dont tell me
i think how people hold on to things you say and do that means nothing to you, even if you could remember them... but means everything to them, which to me, emphasizes the construction of offense, and foolery. if it werent the person's intent, then what are you beating up about. deconstructing human folly
i think of the accident of interaction. the unevenness of relating
the mamaguy of dynamics. the facebook reunion that was last night.
the wickedness of playing with womens heads. women. hm. wow. seems as if they are wired to have a man. and to see that played out in social scenes limes and settings is amusing. the holding onto, the leaning, the grabbing, and the doing it as if on a switch the minute their 'man' appears to be in any verbal engagement with another woman. it is so funny to me. i am almost always in the conversation but backstage to my mind is the snickering laughing and guffawing at the silly female responses.
but i realize it takes a particular kind of woman to be in relationships, in that mode as described above, to be demure, silent, pliant, easy, comfortable
and then last night a friend telling me that only married and men in relationships would like me because they would not be able to contend otherwise, i am too much for a single man to comprehend and comprise... being with and of the attributes i do, well, a man already hooked will be sure, let me ride. it was amusing. i call it a curse. he saw it differently : just the life and inabilities of males and egos.
that gets me back to offense but i already wrote about that...someone tried to get offended by me not willing to engage them on their topic. it was the first time i danced out of a conflict and walked out of as if to appear taking blame and incompetence. wow. i am really studying sun tzu/
effortlessly, years after reading it. seems to now immersing my soul and body
which gets me to a question for an interview: "Does being a badass make you sad?"
i think of the myriad ways of sadness and loneliness, and the myriad ways people fight and rage against ever feeling those things...like a woman, again, who trails her man everywhere, with anyone willing or blindly overrun to do so...just to find him, to see who he is with, her focus of fear shall remain nameless (shifts uneasy in chair)...and it is the fear of being manless, being alone. her own best male friend explained it so: "She is terrified of getting old and knowing what she traded and built her life upon: her looks are fading" fascinating my human studies and cases
but i learned one grand lesson last year 2013. people are looking to be saved. not to build with you. which gets me to another point i had sometime during the night---it is so hard to make new friends and circles after a certain time of life. there is an expiry date. you also cant hope to drop in as if on a helicopter into a new land, new places, spaces and countries and expect the natives to integrate you and certainly not if you are random, unusual, strange and foreign. talk about loneliness and alienation...but to be sensible, you have to make peace with that. a life story of endless travels, visits, jaunts and schooling in foreign lands makes for great reading and fantastic writings but is turmoil for a personal life. who are you moving with? through life? no one. just your lonesome...but . and. you cant expect anyone to save you from that. any time every time you think that is happening. check yourself. pull yourself up and out..you are going down a rabbit hole. and whomever has you by the hand, taking you somewhere to leave and abandon you. it would be you to catch standing under the spotlight of invasion. all of that to say, find and heal yourself. keep company by yourself. seek out none for sojourn. it is a mirage at best, some form of fakery for the moment. every body is going through stuff. some share most hold back. someone asked me last night plain: "where should a person who has been abused go?" and i just said inside. he thought i did not hear him, leaned into me closer and repeated it. and i repeated myself: inside of yourself. and i write this and realize again something i wrote a long time ago. something i recognized - that all the grand comedy, fun, liming, drinking, women, and sexing, the great personalities, the joie d'vive, the loudest laughter, the endless jaunts... they are of the people carrying the most pain, complexity, struggles and it is their way of masking it. meanwhile us morose and melancholy fools are tainted in all kinds of ways just for being truthful. life is shit and i just trying to get through/without all the games, pretenses and makeup
speaking of makeup i wondered last night about women, or men...and the men when they hook up with these caked faced women, does all that end up on sheets, pillowcases and walls? how do you feel about that? does it even matter? do you care? I was just wondering
yeah. the mind and thoughts of an aimless muse
all because i feel very far away from myself, my soul...at a river, in a river, under a waterfall, walking thick lush grass and ground like up inside maracas. away from noise and people. there. that. the bush. i miss.
i am lost . i have strayed too far away from home. it is terrifying
if i were converting these thoughts into scenes for a film, what would we be watching? of what style directorship? allen/ scorcese/ dash/ lee/... i wonder what kind of film i would make. after writing all of this i thought: show me dont tell me
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