Sunday, April 10, 2011

Red Light - 10thDom From Hell To Breakfast

I have internal dialogue externally. I'd like to think that I'm normal, but I'm aware that I'm not, that I don't work like most people, and that I don't understand how or why other people do the things they do. It's a constant dwindle into Hell, the older I get, the less I understand the games people play.

I saw you, and you weren't all that and a bag of chips, but you were ok. I'm pretty sure my favorite Asian would deem you frumpy and off limits, which you shouldn't be, soccer phenom and all. Yes, I Googled you. Pretty impressive. Now, I wonder if I hurt your knee or your ego. Oh, and I only came over to sell shirts. I came back over because y'all asked me to. You didn't make an impression until you weren't making an impression. And you're not the kind of guy to sleep with a girl on the first date, but you are the kind who's ego can't take it when she won't. What a loathesome ass.

Of course, it must be said... I wouldn't have been the least bit attracted to you if you didn't have some talent above and beyond, a fragile ego, and oh, yeah... Only assholes need apply.

Don't know yet if it was serendipitous to meet you during Lent. I wish I could have stayed and had breakfast. Instead, I'm going through my over-thinking Hell, wondering what goes through people's minds and wondering why I just can't fucking get it. It'll be awesome when our paths cross again because we know the same goddamn people.

This is my life: One day, I was sitting at a red light, just sitting at a fucking red light. This kid decides to turn left without yielding to the cement truck! Cement truck slams into kid, kid slams into me. Cement truck takes out a utility pole and nearly hits some gas tanks (wouldn't that have been pretty?) The entire highway is closed for over a mile, and power is out for a bunch of people and Wal-Mart for about 7 hours. I thought I was ok, but the next day my entire left side was achy and bruised. And all I was doing was sitting at a red light.

"Be shallow." That's the best damn advice I've gotten in a long time, but I think I wasted all my shallow back in high school. I'm not sure if I changed more because of the 9 years of constant belittling or the one year of pure torture before I could get away.

And then I try to "be shallow" and lose that within a week, convincing myself not to be that way toward someone treating me nicely. But they're only nice until they're not. And wow. Didn't see that one coming at all. Mommy issues, commitment issues, and a temper all come out at once, and it doesn't look well on you.

This entry won't win. Hell, it probably won't get a vote, and breakfast is a luxury I can't ever seem to enjoy. Oh, well. Just breathe.

6 comments:

  1. oh, it might get a vote or two--an internal tale well told is worth listening to...
    intense song.

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  2. Thanks, Tom.

    I love An Horse. Saw them live a couple of weeks ago and they called my daughter rad bc she just came and sat up on the stage.

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  3. Yep,it might get a vote or two. Interesting stream-of-consciousness write (gah, I've been wandering in the blogosphere too long; I just used "write" as a noun), and you even worked in the muse.

    Besides, I really love the line "you weren't all that and a bag of chips." Gotta remember that one.

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  4. hey a little internal dialogue is never bad...sucks on the car wreck while you sat at the light...

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  5. Gah... I can't leave you alone for a minute.

    edit: whose ego. "Who's" is a contraction, not a possessive.

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  6. I seriously flashed on my wreck reading this. Painful memory.

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