I have a hatred of calendars. Yes I said Hatred because I think its necessary for you to have something to hate since I can't hate Brittany Spears anymore, it gives you a point of reference. I hate calendars with the fire of a thousand suns. And they are rather prevalent nowadays, this time a year like Jehovah's Witnesses who hand out little magazines. Drug dealer business model. I never understood them, turns out there is a lot I don't understand. I'll be OK as long as somebody takes me home - every now and then. Make everyday worth all the pain that you went through.
Why would you want to look at the same, uno, one, single, solitary picture for an entire year? Especially if there is advertisement on it. And don't even tell me about the ones come as a flip-book and have different pictures for every month. I despise them as well, for when I get them, the first time, I cheat and look at all the pictures that same day. I can't wait, I forget to stop, pull out. Ruins the monthly surprise. Makes you fret.
I want to celebrate this time, look through you and know who you are. Destiny is usually kind. And the average reader may think I hate clocks as well but I love clocks - surprisingly. I love them so much that the clock in my living room is set 20 minutes into the future and the second hand doesn't work at all, it just sits there and rocks between 30 and 31. I took a calendar from the supermarket hoping that I might draw on the white surface of the back like I did - in the the past. They gave me 4 when I only wanted one - bastards.
After working late facading my facades on the Friday of a weekend times 2. Absolut Disco in hand, houses with wrong numbers, off dead end streets, too far to walk, too near to fly. Too much eye shadow.
Fresh young lady, hair like Toni, ass like woo and the sexy lady next to her. I asked her to love me but she didn't want to love me. I am waiting on the food before I go, tempted to touch, shorty smile like she on drugs, instrumentals playing the background, new school, old school, 1976. The regulars chatting about vampire movies, I am Legend, WIFI. Cashews spread out on the table, solar lawn lamps give off a dead glow as I listen. Soap got served, don't ask whats in it, its soup - you can assume its magical.
By the end of the year the cake didn't go too well with the cranberry 1/4 vodka, shorty deleted all the good pictures and the guy was 2 hours late - unschooled to the rules. I'd reject you but I can't follow through, all we can hope for is that one of us dies young. My only resolution is that I'll try to be less contrived next year, its all I've learned how to do, I've forgotten how it started.
I'm still at the open cubicle, in the open, away from my base cubicle which was snuggled-neatly-passively in a corner where I could disappear, successfully defend against attack and be at peace. It started to rain and I had to move. I often look back to make sure that none of the new, ignorant have sort to capture my domain while I linger here. I may have mentioned that I hate to leave from somewhere, that I am, to go somewhere else, doesn't matter where. So I linger here for now, a few feet away, training myself not to look up when a someone passes behind me to go to the printer. Studying the blurry outline of the quaint secretary to my right, the sunlight in my face in the evening, the ghosts in the corner of eyes without moving my head, full of focus. Adjust my eyes to undulate the reflections in my monitor. Leave me alone.
Strange in an interesting or pleasing way, there exists another that I smile with, on purpose, I never say anything to her. And even if she isn't smiling I make her smile because some people just can't resist it - its a rare curse. So I make a game of it, eventually she'll want to break the silence and I will want to continue the game and she'll hate me for it, but I don't care - its all about the memories. When the morning comes don't say you love me. Yes, she might be a cool person on the inside, but only fools rush in, unless it makes you happy - die by what you live by.
I would like to think that when you say something that you expect an answer. That when you say something it evaluates to more than the fact that it causes the water in the toilet to turn blue - which is painfully obvious. Don't try to change the way i feel. We only have a limited amount of time to think up names for our children, a master plan to take over the world and what next to waste our money on. There are not alot of things that I care about - you will soon realize why I do, not, neither, triple negative. Even flowers on the window can appreciate a lovely day for what it is. Plant your seeds and let them grow, sometimes I will see it happen once, maybe twice and then I will just stop. Because doing the same thing over and over again because its the safe thing to do is a waste of time - unless - its a game you can win.
At some point in life you'll end at the supermarket late at night. Sometimes one thing leads to another and you just have to be there. It happens to me a lot - trading fame for love. In America everything is open twenty four hours which spoils the fun. Here in Jamaica I like to get there at about 9 o'clock, a full hour before it closes. When the lines are long and the kids are so tired that they just sit in the trolly or cry for someone to pick them up. No-matter how hard an experience seems while I'm going through it, it always at the end seems like a learning experience - a substitute for love. Candy Perfume Girl.
I do not have a car which maximizes the amount of random people I will have to interact with on my way to and from the supermarket. I suppose that when that changes I will have to adapt - carry these sins to the ocean floor. Adapting is not quiet the same as pretending that your happy. Adapting lasts longer and is quiet easier to maintain, with less regret. Not everything goes back to square one, somethings change, water washes over you. A high you can't come down from. The price is paid and there is nothing left to grieve.
There are forces with me that I can't control, blessing that I can't curse, oceans which I cannot swim. I would rather not change you. You are who you are, to thine own self be true. Its much easy when you don't have to teach somebody to love you, it just happens. Quicker than a ray of light. Just the way you are. Its often hard to tell why the other people are there at the supermarket - this late at night. On a Sunday night, because no body is in a hurry. The supermarket tends to have a higher mix of people, its not an escape from anything like a hotel. The only problem is that you can't eat while your there - which is ridiculous. It leaves you wanting more.
I know I'm not perfect but if your heart is weak I can't be the one to save you. My mother will ask me when I'm going to give her some grand children to spoil. But I'm no angel and it doesn't mean that I don't care. To know me is to love me. However I tend to avoid things that I might regret and let people die by their choosing because I can't save everybody, no matter how hard I try to save a life. I was talking to her the other night. Her life had a sudden change. While shes mine to leave or take. I imagine that the worst had happened - now I only fear is that I might impregnate a woman that annoys the hell out of me (but eventually, accidentally). I would say that I haven't found anyone thats right for the job. The how I can't recall, for those that I made the mistake of allowing in contact with my mother often led to her nagging me about the stages. Don't worry about a thing, because every little thing is going to be alright. I've been lucky, its hard, but I'm banking on good faith and condoms, eventually where you are and where I am and where she is will be the same place. I could care less how big her butt is or how nappy her hair looks in the morning, we are all the same. When you are between unsure and a hundred there is only one place to go and that is up. No regrets, everything happens for a reason. I would have been well on my way if it had not been for the fact that getting a woman pregnant changes the dynamic of the sex all together, and she better be damned sure shes ready. Plus pregnancy just doesn't fit certain women. Some women need to be free for as long as possible. And most times I am not the man for the job. Her eggs may eat my seed. Cry not for me my willow tree. Its not that I wouldn't love her, its simple a matter of what to pick up the supermarket. How easy it is to make her happy, satisfy her soul, what she will try to kill me with when she gets angry, warm her heart because such things are important - just as important as a pre-nup or the size of her breasts. Come to decisions quickly, change slowly. I would rather cross all the bridges necessary than jump into the water and hope for the best. Patience is a virture. Sometimes you know for sure and other times you play the game while your young and your dreams are clear and bright. I don't want to grow old, wake up the next morning, put all my cards down on the table and find that the crazy little life that we brought into this world is going to look at us and wonder - wtf.
Mad Bull commented: There is such a thing as being too choosy and having too many standards. Life is about compromise. Make a few and many candidates will appear who will fit the bill. Do it before you get too old to shag, of else, you'll regret it forever. ... read 9 more