it ain't me babe

Sunday the 20th of May, 2007

the boys are looking for a hole. It's not me.
the girls are looking for a husband. It's not me.

Conversation, spark in the eyes, a grin that knows, and something new. Something utterly new.

Not getting it from them, but they're not getting it from each other.
How can they predetermine their options, and limit their options, and be content with something so parched?
Can smile at life. What am I? I am not. I am the buddha.
O

String a string back: are they doing it in pursuit (smile, smile, smile) of identity, security, rote activity?
Where is the security in going back to home, with halfgrown progeny. To undertaking short courses on floristry, jewellery making, to enquiring of friends the prospects for immigrating in Argentina, New Zealand, the Netherlands?
In subsuming into the dualcomposed domestic career-unit, running the enterprise without overt acknowledgement. and stringent demands. Particular demands, and expectations, and finely-honed, specialist skill-sets that, quite frankly darling love, can be ridiculed from allcomers. And will be. Empty air in lands that are not yours. When the question is repeated, "When are you going home?"
And smiling and absorbing the insults under cover of impeccable manners, diplomacy, and the brazen delivery of them, mockery broadcasted to the onlookers.
Embodying the focus for all illthought out, deeply felt, ventable frustrations of inequality. And of viciousness which we shall not mention, see above.
Displaying the veneration of your partner, tu sartorial marker of attainment, ambition, and reward.
You, proxy for all emissions.
You, receptacle.

Another strand: are they doing it in concord with the release of physical tension? Walking dickhead.
As if the world entire was made for the better enjoyment of their dick?
Who indulges another in this, and why?
No stopping to ask. Must forge ahead. And forge other things as well. The difference might be but in form.
And then, to realize that it is not so.
By displacement of certain indicators that supported this previous article of faith. Now 'proved' (smile, smile, smile) to have been erroneous. Pride and potency, why now so dissimilar?
By decreased impotence.
By only advancing age, and by abandonment by formative enablers.
Realization?

To know it was the lucre, the association, the pantheon of myth that all had arranged themselves in dependence with your import.

To be hated by your children for never being there.

To realize.
To 'retire' somewhere coastal. To build your own house. To have a companion (are you cynical, feeble, discardful of emotions, responsabilities, or is it that you have attained great wisdom with age and see that exploit and exploited are simply illusions, why, the sum of all actions is the satisfaction of immediate, selfish, inexplicatble, unjustifiable whims, and don't even try to interject nonsensical "integrity" into the spleen of current rationalisations I am being so considerate as to spell out for you), 16, always 16, without education and with many blood relatives living nearby.
We all help each other.

Keep that knot.
String dissolves in wave and particle.
I'm looking for a conversation.