An rud is annamh is iontach. What is wonderful is seldom.
My cellphone rings three times in the early hours of the morning before I roll over to answer it. I don't remember the conversation on the other side of the line just my responses to it which go in the following order,
"Hello"
"No"
"Okay"
and,
"Bye".
What was I talking about? Then around eleven I get a text from Angela appologizing for being such a jackass. Did she call this morning? What the hell is going on? I'm not overly concerned. I'm mildly curious at best.
My life has been so very zen lately. I think I've reached true enlightment. I saw a four hundred pound nine-year old on the Maury show and laughed insanely. I asked my brother if it was wrong to laugh at other's misfortunes and he said it was wrong to laugh if something bad happened to them randomly but it was a completely different matter to laugh at someone who brought something bad upon themselves. None the less as I was laughing I got the distinct feeling that someday justice would be served to me and it would make me extremely fat. However, I'm okay with this. I'm so very zen about it, because right now, in my prime, when it really matters I'm acceptable enough. Besides, let's all be grateful that we aren't cursed with the three terrible karmas: beauty, riches, and fame.
That little fat girl will learn more, experience more, and will have more sympathy than I ever will in my entire mundane life. More than that, she'll develop more strength emotionally than I could ever hope to have. That's the way of it. Something truly terrible, truly ugly, truly awful...well those are the things that lead us to our greatest adventures. I guess she drew a lucky card. I mean at the end of the day i think we'd all rather be something really awful than nothing special. It's just like Mr. Durden says "if you could be God's worst enemy or his nothing which would you choose?".
As it stands I think some part of me wants to be really, really terrible. Walk around in the proverbial shoes of the fucked up. If I were really something awful something fucked up beyond saving I'd have to loose all hope. I'd have to loose all hope in myself and best of all I'd have to loose all consideration for what those around me thought. Wouldn't that be realy freedom? Being so fucked-up that I'd have to give up hope because there was nothing I could do to make mysel any better in the public eye. At this moment I can't leave the house without make-up. If I do I don't feel like a worthwhile person. Let's play Devil's Advocate, or more aptly, Chuck's Advocate and say I had my lower mandible shot off with a shot gun. There sure wouldn't be much I could do to fix that huh? That's not a look, that's not a trend, that's existing. I'd have to become zen with myself. True freedom.
...You know what, just forget it though. I could never be that zen. Hello. No. Okay. Bye. Maybe what I ought to start off with is a really doggy hair cut. Get the ball rolling smooth and easy...forget it all the same. If I had that kind of freedom, God only knows what I'd do with it. Probably nothing good. If I still care what people think, then there's always the hope that I'll wake up one day trying to be a better person. Then again maybe not. But right now, in my prime, when it really matters Im acceptable enough.
Hello. No. Okay. Bye.
All or nothing without the nothing,
MFB