"In a river the color of lead
Immerse the baby's head.
Wrap her up in the news of the world.
Dump her on a doorstep girl.
Oh this night has opened my eyes,
and I will never sleep again.
You kicked and cried
like a bullied child.
A grown man of 25.
Oh he said he'd cure your ills
but he didn't and he never will.
Oh save your life
because you've only got one.
The dream has gone
but the baby is real.
Oh you did a good thing.
She could have been a poet
or she could have been a fool.
Oh you did a bad thing.
And I'm not happy and I'm not sad.
A shoeless child on a swing
reminds you of your own again.
She took away your troubles.
Oh, but then again, she left pain.
Oh PLEASE save your life because you've only got one..." (the Smiths)
Camus basically said slavery is necessary, or else no one would know what to do. We need masters and bosses in order to have SOMETHING to serve. If we can't serve our own purposes, we need to find someone whose purposes are in accordance with our own and serve theirs. In many ways I agree with him, but once again if it came to semantics, I think the presentation of his philosophies, and as a result the ideas themselves, are dated/premature. But as an innovative writer/philosopher/revolutionary, one often must say MORE than what one means in order to ignite change or in order for less extreme versions of your views to be adopted into the mainstream consciousness.
When we are fetuses, we are slaves to the womb. Born, we are slaves to our parents and teachers. Adult, we are slaves to love and "bosses."
That said, I have taken my indentured servitude elsewhere. I'll be a slave to something or other for the rest of my life (dick, music, writing, the pursuit of _____) but I think I'm getting better at choosing my master.
This week has been a personal molt with proportions so grand and ever-unfolding I can't even begin to describe. This entry will be a bit (or completely, depending on how ego-centric you are or how ego-centric you view me to be) journal-y. Sorry for the lack of interactivity folks, I just need to wax on wax off and I get there through writing. So if you think my life is boring or lame or that I'm masturbating while writing this, then go elsewhere. But I think my words and experience might ignite a lightbulb, or perhaps make someone break something themselves... or like me - put an end to the bullshit relations in their lives and start enjoying them again, and for that reason I write despite the lack of your participation directly or indirectly in this particular instance. There will also be those who read this who actually DID indirectly participate in the Emancipation of Mikey, and in turn the release of Corocet. And you will all know who you are, precious things. I thank you for your contribution to my exodus, and I bid you good day (and good life).
The decision to cut out certain fixtures in my life was indeed difficult. It wasn't until after cutting said things and people out that I realized how much grief and emotional/spiritual energy the ongoing maintenance of said interpersonal relationships were inflicting upon my lightening frame in any dimension. Hindsight is 20/20, and looking back, I am so happy I had the courage and wits to give up on trying to make friendships and certain aspiring notions WORK.
It's not like I didn't know these things were addictive or that they were hurting me more than helping. Or if not hurting, not doing ANYTHING for ANYONE. But still we kept up the rouse. I ask why!?! Well, it's that in giving up an irrepairable broken friendship or lack thereof, I feared seeing myself as a failure. And not just a failure in that instance of schism, but perceived as a moral and interpersonal failure. Sounds crazy, right? And it is! But when you have someone you love(d) and RESPECTED telling you what a horrible person you are, it sort of hits home. That teamed with the fact that perception is reality, nobody wants to be looked down upon.
As an advocate for peace and tolerance, the idea of a world with undying feuds and bitter adversarial relationships really hurts me on a soul level. Real pain. Ouchies! If the "relationship" really just consists of the silent treatment being tossed about like a ball in a tennis court, it really does break my heart. I have always hated the idea of throwing people away. Friends, lovers, the person who cuts my hair. I know well the anguish and despair that's anxiously waiting in the wings of your heart after being told by someone you care about that they simply and succinctly don't want you in their life.
The whole last two years of my life has been almost primarily focused on "fixing" (by accepting and forgiving) the wounds suffered after the end of an unhealthy relationship. It seems this fluff (and sometimes cancerous) extraction marks the end of my transition, and the beginning of the life I moved here for, and on the flip side have been waiting to come to me for a year now. I now see and accept that sometimes letting go is necessary. Often it is. And that letting go of something too tired, proud, fragmented or broken is better than persisting with a vehicle that was pretty much faulty to begin with.
Self-preservation verses Sainthood? I used to think so. But now I know that I can not only be a saint, but also look out for myself and my own well-being. That's the beauty of living in a reality system of duality. That's how all of us (but especially I) can be such a contradiction in terms when reviewing our behaviors, opinions, and quirks.
So in short, Fuck OFF Assholes!
Love,
Corocet
Currently listening : Hatful of Hollow By The Smiths Release date: 09 November, 1993
No comments:
Post a Comment