doll_

hmmm. i have been thinking, which more often than not becomes a
dangerous thing....
who are we? what are we ment to do. and be ..
what are all of the struggles and strife and woes of growing up leading us to if not more struglle and strife, and woe....and hangovers, and drug habbits or neurotisism, blaming our parents. wondering if there is life out there in the universe,other than us. political upheaval, and war. and yet, lonliness and unfulfillment abound for the average person. and what is the average person? there is so much money out there. (see: cribs and the hilton sisters.) and money is supposed to bring happiness, right?
::wink:: frivelously spent? maybe. but it is not my place to judge. none of it is im my bank account i assure you. and maybe that is just why i am so unsatisfied. natural human jellousy. but to admit that, that i am human, and i get jellous, have lied and hurt others at times, ave failed at many ventures,have stolen, and cheated, and done so to get what i want out of situtations- seems so taboo. to talk about, openly.
just like my entry about flatulence. that no one seemed to want to comment on. like flatulence does not exist.
it is certainly more tangible than say, eternal happyness, or youth, and finding your soul mate, or for ever and ever....
may be that is what this is all about. gas.
and the fact that we are all full of it. full of hot air to blow up one annothers asses. to mask the truth of every day living.
i dont want to be ful of it. i dont want to ignore anymore what really goes on. to live behind blinders, and just go about my daily business, pretending there is nothing wrong with the world, me. but here comes the kicker.
what the hell are you supposed to do about all of this wrong? and once you have flung off the blinders, what tehn of your sensitive coddled little heart now exposed to reality. you , me us. our little indevidual selves. seriously. did my one vote count against bush? does my happy little family that so consumes my whole line of sight close my eyes to the fact that so many of my friends are so desperately lonely?broke, on drugs, alcoholics, that there are people who have lived a whole life without being loved, feeling love.in a box or van down by the river. with no health insurance. children starving, mollested by trusted family members, fluffy animals killed, clubbed, poached to near extinction, rain forests still being burnt to ashes. ozone depletion, falling of the value of the american dollar, the face that foreign contries, instead of respecting and looking up to us now laugh at the stupid, ignoarant american machine?
and me. i am not a super genious. or even exceptional at anything. except caring. what does caring do ? for anyone? it makes me cry at night i know that much. it makes me way too sensative for my own good. me. that hasnt spoken to my own father in over two years. but do i feel sorry for myself? no. dont think that this is a pitty party for brooke.
im no emo euro intellectual with lots to say about comedy and tragedy. and existential detective bologna. republican, democrat liberal, vegan vegitarian, homosexual, missing link, hipster, beatnick, punker,goth, emo, rockasilly, mod, ............. i suppose i have been all of those at one point or annother in my life. and im still, under neath it all... me. who? me. and am i that great any way? being me? is me a good thing to be?
i used to know lots of people. have tons of friends, go to shows, free drinks all night no cover, hookups galore, seduce men, play with girls.i dont even remember half of their names. and now, im just well, normal. in the simplest sense of the word. however still covered with tattoos, hair is an acceptable auburn, no more betty bangs, mostly wear long sleeves, i have graduated from gibsons to heels, and from prep cook to line cook to chef, and from that to corporate ninny. and that my friends i hoped would make me proud. but alass, it does not. i feel like have sold out. most of my tiki bar has been dissmantled, and given away. the fiesta ware has transformed into some pier 1 asian wana be bullshit. my couch is no longer a red chenile amoeba shaped 50's bucket o' lovin. its a design within reach super modern chaise, sectional thing. dammit man.what have i become.
which brings me back to what i guess is the point of this whole retarted ranting disertation that is devoid really of any point or direction in the end.
I never wanted to grow up. why do we have to.
hope you all still love me after this way to serious novel that will probably hurt your head.
xoxo
the doll