Give Me a Break

Are you a good witch or a bad witch? In essence, all witches are bad and all breaks are bad. A bad witch walked in front of me while I was riding my bike and I went head over heels into the pavement, breaking my shoulder. She didn’t have striped socks or ruby slippers, but I could see munchkins walking around wondering whether or not I was gonna make it and where the hell was the horse of a different color? The only colors I saw that day were black and blue. I might have been hallucinating. That would explain a lot.

Through the past few years I’ve found myself in the most terrible tosses and turns of life. Tornados? That seems appropriate. Nobody to blame but me. It’s easier to deal with things when you have support. I’m just not that good at asking for it. I’m smart, but I’m not Mensa material. Oh hell… even at Mensa level you can be completely retarded on how to boil water. You know why it boils…you just don’t know where to find the pot.

So why do I sit here feeling stupid? Because I am. We all are at times. However, most of the time I think we are all brilliant. But I’m stupid if I continue to think about the things I would like to change and never having the courage to affect it.

Is there such a thing as a good Break? Can people find redemption and enlightenment from pain? Hum, being splayed out on a busy city street can certainly bring about a different perspective, that’s for sure. Because from that vantage point on that particular day, the only way to go was up.

And of course, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. There was nothing to hide from. No witch, no munchkins and of course, I wasn’t heading down a yellow brick road. But I am desperately trying to find my way home.

No equations to relations

Percentages and Relativity……

Oh how I hate math. I hate equations and decimals and precise formulas. In a perfect world, everything would work out if you just do the homework…if you can figure out the code. Static. Real. Complex but oh so simple. Such as it is with relationships, right? Meet the right person….and the formula will work. Oh…but I forget about the two negatives making a positive thing. Dang, how I hate math.

There’s no equation to relations. The math is daunting. Over 50% of marriages fail. I’m sorry to say that I’m am part of that statistic. It breaks my heart. That is to say, if I still have one. I hear it pulsing and the rate goes up when I exercise, but the true heart is in the soul, and mine is in severe disrepair.

For people pursuing a relationship, you can always look to the beautiful side, the right brain where nothing goes wrong and the roses never die. It’s a romantic notion spent on a rainy day when you finally decide that the movie version of boy meets girl actually works (a formula plot, by the way). It looks so good on screen. Laughter, tears, sex, make up sex, and basically sex for the sake of having it. What love. What love indeed.

Does this deter me from trying to find happiness in the companionship of others? To trust someone with my heart? Hell yes it does. If they ever figure out Pi….then maybe we can decode the true formula of love and how we can work out the equations to stay together. I have a huge eraser and can correct mistakes. We’ve all made a few even the erasers can’t touch. The paper is too thin and the marks won’t go away.

What was the Einstein theory…Energy is equal to mass x speed of life…ok..speed of light!! Well, the light is bright and I’m speeding through it. Mass…well….I go to the gym on a daily basis to deal with the mass. I’m not sure that’s what Einstein had in mind, but, as I said……I hate math.

They Love the Party - But not the Life

I saw an interesting documentary about a 15 year old boy who always talked about death until talking wasn’t quite enough.

Everybody contemplates death. I mean, why do we have life insurance….for death…of course. Why don’t they call it death insurance??? Business loves death….you could say….they thrive on it…kind of like flies…. actualities …..decomposition.

It made me sad, this documentary. The parents kept turning the camera on to this kid, who clearly had mental issues. Not blaming the parents at all, but why would you continue to shine a light on someone with issues?? Maybe to avoid the eventual blame that they knew was going to happen? The mom actually took a picture of her son hanging himself….simulated hanging. It’s a little sick. They were both film makers. Maybe they always kept him at a lengths distance. I’ll see you through the lens and not through the heart. It’s hard to make sense of mental illness, death, life, reality. Isn’t it all the same? Most of life is insane. I’m surprised that more people don’t jump out of a window. Which in case, this 15 year old kid did.

I think he thought he was going to be part of the after party. He actually wrote a play about the death of a teenager, and how everyone missed him and cried at his funeral. He reminds me of a bridezilla, they love the party, but not the life.