Stale champagne

30 05 2016

On the occasion that you find yourself in a mostly packed and emptied house with nearly all of your possessions sitting in a parked u-haul van while your (ex?)(current?)(significant other)boyfriend? (former[or current] Partner) is away working over time trying to finish up a project because his boss’s brother in-law just OD’d on heroin and died. And his boss’s debut solo show is happening in four days with at least a week’s worth of work to do and so said former or current boyfriend is going to work through the night to dutifully figure out how to mount/frame the photos of the aforementioned boss in the complicated way that even the incompetent yet some how talented boss doesn’t know how to do. ON this occasion, where not knowing the actual state of the three and a half year relationship, that you did not realize had meant as much to you as you thought. Or perhaps that good ol’ patriarchal Christian monogamy still some how haunts you more than you realize. It is on this occasion that drinking the stale champagne that was meant for celebration mimosas, which ended up being merely sad lonely mimosa that you didn’t even finish because you have shown a recent self harming impulse when drinking too much.

This occasion in which you find yourself, baby-sitting the beloved elderly dog of said former or current boyfriend in the mostly empty house surrounded by said former or current boyfriend’s things, because you both deeply love the elderly dog, and some how are still not quite ready to face what your life has become. Sure you finished graduated school, and yes that is awesome. But when you have a meager amount of sanity left, and the relationship that now you realize you are willing to work on is probably ending, but definitely feels like limbo. And you’re having to strongly consider going into some kind of intensive therapy program, oh and you’re broke, while so many around you seem to have their dreams being come true….

It is this occasion in which drinking that stale celebration champagne is acceptable. Check your bank account and order some fucking indian food for yourself and try to not be so fucking sad. Salty stale champagne is just too pathetic, even for you.

Against the Current

22 07 2011

“Because woman lives vicariously she need take no moral responsibility for her behavior: because she has no responsibility she has no morality and no ego.  Because of the lack of ego and the variety of roles that women manipulate, they have no identity, as one may guess from their willingness to give up their names.  Woman is never genuine at any period of her life.” – The Female Eunuch Pg 120

Woman is never genuine at any period in her life.

Not for lack of trying, but because she is not allowed to have an identity. If one has no identity, no sense of self, sincerity can not be. Everything is a show, a mask is always on, for only with the masks that others hand a nameless being is it then named.

I would like to say that this isn’t the case anymore. But honestly in some ways I think its worse. Because there is clear lack of individuality in our society today. Individualism true is prevalent, but individuality is not.  Every one is supposed to put on face and be a rock, and island and happily pursue whatever this years American dream is. Meanwhile free thought, critical thinking, curiosity and imagination are being squandered, and all these things are essential in being a self actualized individual.

I don’t know how any one goes through life with out curiosity. With out wondering why it is that one person thinks this way or that. Or why it is that this group of people seem so taken by some smoe who doesn’t even know their history. With out curiosity and critical thinking, charisma and charm win out over integrity and justice. With out curiosity and wondering how things work, or why things are the way they are, innovation ceases. With out curiosity imagination consists of dreaming about the next object to fill the garage with, rather than inventing stories and creating, well….anything.

I see this in men and women, even children. A childhood with out curiosity…humans with out curiosity….we might as well as be fragile coral fixed to some rock…Barnacles, living forms that depend completely on a fragile environment never moving any where, longing for anything. The most movement we get comes from the involuntary sway with the current.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be a sponge, barnacle, or a goddamned sea fan.