Sunday, January 23, 2005

On Wobbly Knees

Fair warning to those who wish to avoid it, this is an especially (since they all are to some degree) self-centered posting.

People have been trying to corrupt me since I was old enough to want to be corrupted. It’s easy for me to pull off, young guileless face and everyone really wants to corrupt at least one person. It livens up their life you know?

And this little charade served its purpose for a while. People got what they wanted from me and I got invited to go places.

But how many times can there be original sin?

The first thing that comes to my mind when I see someone with a piercing other than ear lobes and a little hoop through the upper ear is what the story behind the piercing is. Why did they intentional hurt themselves?

And often, especially with girls, I imagine it as a whim. Out with friends some night and deciding it would be cute to have a little piece of metal through some piece of cartilage or skin or another. Kind of like the omnipresent butterfly tattoo.

The funny thing is none of my barbells have that story so I don’t know why I make it up.
Maybe I’m just sick of playing my roll, like a band that needs to come out with a new album.

Someone once told me I live my life ruled by committee. Others have told me my future was set by my family’s past.

And it’s with a great deal of wry humor with which I hum to myself: Your fate is delivered, your moment’s at hand. It’s the chance of a life time, in a life time of chance.
I have a choice in the matter of course, but not really. Born and bred and trained and can’t get around that. And it worries me that I’m worried about liking something that I have an affinity for.

And if I am to be consistent, why should I care? God knows I’m inept at enough other things.

There’s more to be said, about telling everyone to kiss my ass.

But this post has lingered half written on my computer for nearly two weeks now.

Make of it what you will.

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