"Life is hard...and so am I."
For the longest time, I thought that precious pearl of wisdom had come from my own brain, so imagine my disappointment when, watching an old 'eels' video, I heard E sing those very words. Damn that E! He's always beating me to the punch, punching me to the beat, and generally annoying the living shit out of me. Yeah, so I'm not the genius who thought that up. Now that I think about it, I am glad. Happy to have recycled my psyche, and sad that I had forgotten the source, I vow to never assume that anything I think is what I am actually thinking.
It's such a depressing sentiment anyway. Who needs to know that life is hard and that the difficulty of living has hardened me. The sexual innuendo is so faint, it's practically latent. With such hardship, who needs a boner? I certainly don't. They always seem to get in the way of what I really want, which is not to fuck the hard, cruel world but to be loved. Boo Hoo! I get lonely. So fuck-diddly-ucking what... All these self-fulfilling prophecies bore me. I want action. I want romance. I want snow, but all I get is ash. But as they say, ash and you shall receive.
Am I a Xerox of my former self? Generationally removed from my authenticity? Have the subtle shades of my character been blown out? These are the questions I ask myself on a Friday night, because I am in need of an answer. No more band-aids. No more bruises. No more scarification. This is my heart:
I expect you to be careful with it, though it's me who really needs to take care. That's how it is and, I suppose, how it should be. Does it scare you? Or does the lack of scars intrigue you? I am a system of beliefs, in need of revision, reinvention. I am no longer my own worst enemy. I cannot afford the war and battle seems so futile in the tents, late at night. The ticket is in mystery, in the desert air, in the things there are no words for. It calls up from the bowels of the universe, for a new mantra. I listen to the faint and repeat the inspiration:
"Life is easy...and so am I"
Am I a diamond forged from the pressure? Or am I merely a slut? More questions desperate for attention, searching for signs of intelligent life, emotional life, or life itself... I know that, it's in the way a challenge presents itself, I get lost. I play Truth or Dare. So, what will it be?
So be it.