Thursday, December 25, 2014

Awkward and Abnormal - Aren't we all.

...what a day to write a post -you know(redundant use of common language).

Awkward and Abnormal -the real standard of life that exists within us all. For me being awkward and abnormal has been a life-long experience -the best mistress(quoting Leo Davinci there).

I can't dance but, I can shake my but a little. I can't sing but I can string words and off-meter melodies well in a shower. I can't do "normal" simply because "normal" is something different to everyone and everywhere. I can't meet up to the expectations of society, or the world, or everyday people because I can't read peoples minds and live up to the bar of "normality".

Believe me, it would be nice to be treated as human, accepted as human, and live through a stereotype that is convenient for everyone. I'd be nice to have friends that are your friend without expectation. It would be nice to "not play games" but live life better than a game and -you win no matter what. It is hard to not be accepted by your own kind and world. It hurts me everyday.

One time I wanted to be in music and sing, make videos, dance, do fancy-smanshy interviews and bump uglies with the star and celeb world but -then I realized that I guess I don't have what it takes.

One time I wanted to write and draw but -then I realized that my version of language and what is grammatically correct are light years apart -not to mention all my rejected scripts and the "two copies" of my little poetry book that I published with a decade of poetry I literally died to save and hold on too. And my art -I'm afraid to post it as some shrink will tell me how I am libel to cut my ear off for some strange aesthetic I've included.

One time I wanted to be an athlete but -then I realized that I was not super-man enough to leap a mountain of giants in order to score and help the team. Who knew that throwing a ball through a hole and running a ball across a line would be the difference between men and gods.

One time I wanted to be free but -then I realized that everyone only knows freedom by the sheer amount of limitations that are in place all around us. Sometimes, we don't really know freedom but we certainly know limitation -and sadly death for all we know is the ultimate liberator and then subject to another universal mountain of deities with mountains of spiritual limitations put in place.

So, what do I do now? The same thing I have always done, "Remain awkward and abnormal forever."

It's weird to think that you live every day of your life and you think you do the right things. Or, at best, really you just live day to day and hope to do your best to survive. You watch the Sun and the Moon pass through the sky -and though you think to see the next, we kind of pass towards denial when we leave the awareness of endings behind us.

It's crazy for me to hear the "new normality" or the song or the dance or the way we live life and then there is some standard put into place that next to no one can live up to.

I just honestly do not know normal and I don't know what that is like. Believe me, I've tried, I've struggled, I tried to fit in and -I'm left to know that no matter how hard I "try to be normal" it will never happen. At least not that I know of.

It's funny though that I have come to find that in this world that there is no such thing as "normal". There is no trend that is "normal". There is no star, celebrity, religion, politics, or expression that is normal.

The only thing that I know is that being: "Awkward and Abnormal is the only true normal that will ever be the true to life standard of being."

Looking at my awkward and abnormal face in the mirror...as much as I do not understand it or myself, "There is a certain beauty in being Awkward and Abnormal."

Sunday, December 21, 2014

From the Tribe of Cat

...so many moons. Funny to think the kittens I once had became cats. They were my friends; they passed in time. Now even as a cat -living in the Imperial Domain- it is strange to think the idols, stars, and entertainers seem to come and go without real impact on the world. They speak of substance, but how much substance can be derived from disingenuous sources that know no more of the real world and love than they say they are aware every moment of their lives? Is this why you prefer not my paw to the pawing of a collective that sees you no more than vanity and possession?

Oh Bastet (or so I shall call  you), if you exist why do you punish me so. You have no need to be anything other than what you are. All love is insane, but only badly if it is not met with the same level of insanity. I watched you dance -horribly, but not more horribly than I have danced...as if life is not one insane dance.

And insanity -how could one not be considered insane to have either wanted or experienced so much? Who really cares for weekends or fleeting moments when what you want are fairytales -really lived- that last through the four cycles of life until by death we wait to hold hands and touch lips beyond the pale. My darling, I feel cold. For it seems this incarnation of mine is no more of anything than for each time my hand reaches into empty space wanting to know you are there. Why should we sell the thing we are if we are only seen as an animal?

Going through the motions: painting, writing,...trying to convince an entirely cold-hearted and fleeting world that I am not what it thinks me to be(nothing) any more than my whiskers help me to see at night, only holding for balance of a shape that resembles a vessel of limited proportions.

Milk? No, only for baths. Whiskey? No, only for loneliness and when I feel the need to push for a danger that is more imitative than the passing layers of thought within mind. Oh my beloved cat friend, how I miss you. The way you looked, the way you would purr, the way you sat upon my shoulder thinking me the throne of your untamed world. And it was, and I was just a student of wild things drapped under a skin that was no more mine than the breathes...that left me speechless.

Looking to your centuries, I wondered how many incarnations you went through in a lifetime -perhaps to appease a world that would say it loved you, but, never did. Am I insane to be whatever you want, when I am not sure what you want, but the entire world of our history would claim to say that we are the wonder of loving insanity. And, I thought I just lived. Even upon the chess board of life we all lay our pieces down when we have mastered the slavery of our own self-imposed weariness.

I'd settle for a world of catnip of your love that never ran out than all the printing paper those who walk supposedly upright call money.

Yes, you are still the catnip to my lips, eyes, and mind. Warhol may have stated that those never met are better than those had -but, I hate that and disagree with it. I have no wish to be plastic and lay here in imaginary silk while you wear an invisible crown.

If I am insane for loving you then, we both know the truth of loving each other insanely was the very reason we loved -and, loved one another.