This weekend, I meditated and practiced yoga, which kept me centered, but tiny setbacks and annoyances buzzed around me, with the aim of disturbing my peace. I know that, ultimately, from quanta on up, we create our own realities and are responsible for the condition we find them in. I believe this---really, I do--- but I still sometimes find myself trying my best to convince myself and others, in various and surreptitious ways, that I was dealt a poor hand in life and because of that I should be given mucho sympathy. As low and embarrassing and shameful and frustrating and ahhhhh!!! as things get---and they sure have gotten---I'm still the one at the controls. But, man, would I love to pin this mess I'm in on someone else.
As far as my living situation goes, Bob TV has proved to be sympathetic to my plight and has been supportive. More and more, I'm seeing what a good guy he is. Spira's another story. It's been tough going between us over the past days and it doesn't appear to be getting any better. Although I've been irritated and perplexed by some of her actions and reactions lately, I bet she's been doubly irritated and perplexed by some of mine . And I should also keep in mind that, just like me, she has other issues on her plate besides our little spat. Not everything is about you, Kevin.
I'll end this with a corny literary device and I extend my apologies in advance to those of you who find my sensibilities distasteful. Believe me, I'm right there with you, but I've got to do this and it has to be done in this way. Hey, I'm trying to be one of the good ones, despite or because of my shortcomings. Here I go:
Spira,
I'm choosing this method to convey to you, even though we've hit a rough patch---or maybe we haven't, I don't know how to read you sometimes---that I love you. And I love me. I have done and will do stupid stuff. I will chase my tail like a pup and eat my own shit--- also like a pup. I will think I'm right about something and learn, to my bewilderment, that I'm not---not so much like a pup. I will think I'm at fault in a situation when, in fact, I'm not. I will fuck up. I will triumph. I'm human. So are you. So what am I saying? I guess I'm saying it's late and I'm deep in my head but there's a bright light on. I feel relaxed---better than I did earlier---and things will get better. I hate not feeling close to you, but that will change. When you come to your senses and see how very wrong you've been about everything, that is. You know I'm joking, right? I wish I had a smiley face emoticon at my disposal; it would clear everything up.
Your friend,
Kevin
Awwwwwww!! Wasn't that sweet?
Not only will I look back at this time in my life and think it's comical, I'm at that point now. And before I go, I may as well address any of you reading this who I may have embarrassed or offended with the way I've conducted my life of late. If you're out there, I'm sorry and will try to earn back your respect, even if it takes years and involves a brutal murder or two. Now, fuck off and let me relax.
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2 comments:
Simply put: nice post. I suppose the point wasn't to be a good writer, but, well, you were. Maybe a good human being as well while you were at it.
In other matters, I never got into Jeff Beck until I heard his guitar work on Donovan's Barabajagal and it made me want to hear more.
Thank you for the compliment. Considering the source, it means a lot.
Jeff Beck rocks. He's so tasteful and interesting to listen to. I can't stomach mindless, endless, guitar solos, but most of the time he's playing for the song. Check out Blow by Blow or Wired.
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