Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Fuckin 40
Hmmm usually people get to an age they've dreaded reaching and suddenly they'll tell you, oh it's not so bad. I still have half my life to go and I feel fine.
Well.
Fuck that. I'm 40 today and for the whats-left-of-the-life-of-me, I can't see myself spending another 40 years on this "life". I'm old. I ain't going to pretend I don't feel the testosterone ebb, the energy wane, or even the Give-A-Shit petering out. I've done everything I've wanted in this existence. I've proved whatever the hell it was I was supposed to prove. I've propagated the line, more than I even imagined I would. I've given and I've taken and I don't have either I'd really rather do anymore.
I'm Spent.
I am raising the girls and my son when he's here. My older sons are grown now, and doing their own thing, and if they didnt turn out the way I wanted them to, well its either my fault or its not. I love them and wish them the best- I'm not going to lose any more sleep on wishing for anything more than that. They've their own faults, much like I've mine. I hope one of these days they can expand themselves beyond the tiny worldview their mother gave them- and see that their sisters and their other brother are worthy of notice.
If not, their loss. They aren't children any longer. If they have no time for anything except themselves, so be it. Maybe they are right and those of us who care beyond our blinders are the real fools.
Once upon a time, I'd argue against that. But, I'm tired.
Forty is the "new"... Bullshit. 40 is what its always been- the time in a man's life when his expiration date on zest is punching the clock out. No amount of new drugs and mental feng shui is going to re-decorate my dna on this one.
Live until you die was the philosophy. But wisdom comes with age. And hopefully I won't live too far past the time when living just became dying.
Well.
Fuck that. I'm 40 today and for the whats-left-of-the-life-of-me, I can't see myself spending another 40 years on this "life". I'm old. I ain't going to pretend I don't feel the testosterone ebb, the energy wane, or even the Give-A-Shit petering out. I've done everything I've wanted in this existence. I've proved whatever the hell it was I was supposed to prove. I've propagated the line, more than I even imagined I would. I've given and I've taken and I don't have either I'd really rather do anymore.
I'm Spent.
I am raising the girls and my son when he's here. My older sons are grown now, and doing their own thing, and if they didnt turn out the way I wanted them to, well its either my fault or its not. I love them and wish them the best- I'm not going to lose any more sleep on wishing for anything more than that. They've their own faults, much like I've mine. I hope one of these days they can expand themselves beyond the tiny worldview their mother gave them- and see that their sisters and their other brother are worthy of notice.
If not, their loss. They aren't children any longer. If they have no time for anything except themselves, so be it. Maybe they are right and those of us who care beyond our blinders are the real fools.
Once upon a time, I'd argue against that. But, I'm tired.
Forty is the "new"... Bullshit. 40 is what its always been- the time in a man's life when his expiration date on zest is punching the clock out. No amount of new drugs and mental feng shui is going to re-decorate my dna on this one.
Live until you die was the philosophy. But wisdom comes with age. And hopefully I won't live too far past the time when living just became dying.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
The Heart is the Greatest Traitor
Some days are so easy that I laugh when things go wrong...
Other days, everything goes right, and it's still a battle to struggle through to the time I lay my head down to sleep...
Strength is elusive. I have made myself so hard, in the hopes of making myself stronger.
Sometimes the things you think that make you strong are weaknesses.
Sometimes your weaknesses are strengths.
And, sometimes weaknesses are just weaknesses.
I think you are only strong when you can get past it all. And for whatever fucking reason, I don't seem to be able to... but maybe I am blaming one thing on another, because its the shortest path to blame.
Dunno...
I worked in the yard for, like, 3 hours today. Damned if I know why. I live in a rent house in a bad neighborhood. Why the fuck should I care about my yard? Why the hell do I put so much effort (not to mention money into it?) Weird. Maybe its some subconscious duty instilled into me, like taking care of the girls and going to work every day. It something that I've been told you are supposed to do. A good man takes care of his kids, his yard, his job.
I rebel against every-fucking-thing-else. Why do I conform on this front? It gives me peace. Not much else does. Actually all three of those things give me peace- You have to take pride in something, right?
I work hard, I take care of what needs to be taken care of. ? Is it that simple?
Mebbe.
Someone told me that I was spoiled and I was so used to getting whatever I wanted that it had warped me for real relationships.
Trust me, I dont get what I want, most of the time. But I've got a knack for tricking myself into believing that the things I DO get are the ONLY things I wanted in the first place. That, and a strong sense of telling myself that I dont/didnt want a lot of things in the first place...
I blame Southern Rock Anthems.
You tell yourself so many times you are free as a bird and "you cant change me" and pretty soon you end up believing that shit.
You end up giving yourself your own perfect scapegoat for never putting in the effort.
Who suffers? Well, plenty of women who may have actually loved you- and tried to get you to come up for air from your head-up-your-ass "independence". But mainly, its YOU who suffers, victim of your own bullshit.
Congratulations.
You won, motherfucker. You beat them all. You outlasted the last fools who might have loved you. And now you can finish your self-destruction in peace by telling yourself it was all because you loved "HER" all these years (cough-bullshit-cough). And you can say they left you, they didnt love you enough, and thats why you are all fucking alone at the end of the day.
You can Tell yourself that shit all day. And I expect you will, and you'll trust that traitorous heart to the end. That heart that loved only itself, the whole time.
Clutch that bottle, tight, bitch. That's the only love affair I see panning out for you.
Other days, everything goes right, and it's still a battle to struggle through to the time I lay my head down to sleep...
Strength is elusive. I have made myself so hard, in the hopes of making myself stronger.
Sometimes the things you think that make you strong are weaknesses.
Sometimes your weaknesses are strengths.
And, sometimes weaknesses are just weaknesses.
I think you are only strong when you can get past it all. And for whatever fucking reason, I don't seem to be able to... but maybe I am blaming one thing on another, because its the shortest path to blame.
Dunno...
I worked in the yard for, like, 3 hours today. Damned if I know why. I live in a rent house in a bad neighborhood. Why the fuck should I care about my yard? Why the hell do I put so much effort (not to mention money into it?) Weird. Maybe its some subconscious duty instilled into me, like taking care of the girls and going to work every day. It something that I've been told you are supposed to do. A good man takes care of his kids, his yard, his job.
I rebel against every-fucking-thing-else. Why do I conform on this front? It gives me peace. Not much else does. Actually all three of those things give me peace- You have to take pride in something, right?
I work hard, I take care of what needs to be taken care of. ? Is it that simple?
Mebbe.
Someone told me that I was spoiled and I was so used to getting whatever I wanted that it had warped me for real relationships.
Trust me, I dont get what I want, most of the time. But I've got a knack for tricking myself into believing that the things I DO get are the ONLY things I wanted in the first place. That, and a strong sense of telling myself that I dont/didnt want a lot of things in the first place...
I blame Southern Rock Anthems.
You tell yourself so many times you are free as a bird and "you cant change me" and pretty soon you end up believing that shit.
You end up giving yourself your own perfect scapegoat for never putting in the effort.
Who suffers? Well, plenty of women who may have actually loved you- and tried to get you to come up for air from your head-up-your-ass "independence". But mainly, its YOU who suffers, victim of your own bullshit.
Congratulations.
You won, motherfucker. You beat them all. You outlasted the last fools who might have loved you. And now you can finish your self-destruction in peace by telling yourself it was all because you loved "HER" all these years (cough-bullshit-cough). And you can say they left you, they didnt love you enough, and thats why you are all fucking alone at the end of the day.
You can Tell yourself that shit all day. And I expect you will, and you'll trust that traitorous heart to the end. That heart that loved only itself, the whole time.
Clutch that bottle, tight, bitch. That's the only love affair I see panning out for you.
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