Play The Language Like A Mandolin

“Stories full of metaphors are by writers who play the language like a mandolin for our entertainment, novelists, poets, playwrights, and other crafters of inventions." Yann Martel from The High Mountains of Portugal.
I scarcely write down my thoughts anymore and I rarely offer my opinion with spoken words. I am extremely passive and deflective. I have no interest in sharing my soul with the masses or even selected individuals. It is further evidence of my selfish nature hidden by a painted picture of kindness. I am not seen or if I am it is through a very cloudy lens. There is no desire to open up and discuss the loneliness, shame or emptiness within. I have been extremely distracted by trying to find things that I cannot handle anyway; friendship, companionship, love or sex. I cannot commit to anything but my own self torture and suffering. So I cloak myself in kindness, sarcasm and indifference. What if you want more? There is nothing to offer you but the physical desire to get to off on you. The separating of emotions from the pleasure by offering you some pain first. You must submit but I will not guarantee anything. Selfish and narcissistic with a serious absence of morals. Splurge and plunge, fuck and pray it feeds the demons inside your vacant soul.
 "This could be Heaven or this could be Hell." Don Henley and Glenn Fry lyrics. Don Feder music and recorded by The Eagles.

A Second Thought

I haven't left the apartment in the last two days. I feel utterly lazy and bloated from pizza and popcorn. It's after midnight and I'm doing laundry as to not have to deal with people. I can't say I ever want to interact with the people in my building.

I did watch a couple of interesting movies. The first was The Imitation Game which I thought was fascinating with a strong performance from Benedict Cumberbatch (best name in show business). Though I thought they could have incorporated Keira Knightley's character better in the plot but still a strong movie. The second was Gone Girl which I had been putting off for a long time. I didn't know which character I liked least, Ben Affleck's or Rosamund Pike's. The cheating, lazy and lying husband or the scorned and manipulative wife. In the end perhaps they are the perfect match for each other. A disturbing reflection on what the extreme's of a failed marriage can become. God, the hate we can feel for the people we once loved. I wrote the following piece in 2010.

A Second Thought
The ground cracked open and swallowed
Hungry for the impoverished and oppressed
The World braced for news of the destruction
One body was not going to satisfy its thirst
The blood of the poor is always drank first
Our eyes, our breaths and our memories
Rarely gave these people a second thought
Choosing instead to visit their neighbors
The Dominicans speaking their Spanish
Flying from New York City to Punta Cana
Not giving the Haitians a second thought
French is okay for Paris and Quebec City
But not for mixed “free people” of color
This was never a place to be interested in
Now the World cannot seem to stay away
A natural disaster it would seem is good
For business, for television and for now
Until the money is spent or wasted away
After all the bodies are burned or buried
Will there be anything left to be salvaged
Last year the answer would have been yes
Had the World came to Haiti to help out
Now the answer could very well be no
There is a lesson for the World in Haiti
Turning their eyes on its poor countries
Will only leave them blind in the end
Rich countries need to assist poor ones
Before there is nothing but instability
An episode of Survivor without limits
If the World had given a second thought
Haiti may still have fallen under rubble
But perhaps only ten thousand are dead
Not the possible two hundred thousand
Being piled up like logs for a cozy fire.
January 19, 2010

I'm currently reading The Girl Who Saved The King Of Sweden by Jonas Jonasson, a good followup to the very funny The Old Man Who Climbed Out The Window And Disappeared.

The Imitation Game

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2084970/?ref_=nv_sr_1


Gone Girl

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2267998/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

Everyone Has To Be Deranged

I am a sometimes writer, I am an everyday observer, I am a music lover and I am lyric studier. This is yet another try at blogging and sharing. I will ramble and I will write. There might be something of substance and there might not be. I suppose like everything it is all subjective. I wrote this piece the other day.
John
Everyone Has To Be Deranged 
There is a delicacy in our losses
Fingertips breaking as we cling
To romanticized pasts like glue
Life leaving us without a clue
As to what we should do after
The love has faded to memory
Song lyrics and their melodies
Take the place of former loves
We pick up and down photos
Everything has to be rearranged
Everyone has to be deranged
To go through all the bullshit
For a few moments in the sun
Her skin bathed in the warmth
Waiting for another summer
To disappear like giant towers
The smoke a scar on the heart
A cancer without a treatment
Pills for the pain and agony
Small comforts and last rites
Spoken before closed eyes
The reason why being asked
As if there was any illusion
Of it ending any other way
Than with dust being strewn
Particles for our Mother Earth
Her destruction as inevitable
As any club of lonely hearts
A gathering of naïve souls
Expecting anything but death
From a scientific universe
Where rules are standardized
And nothing can be plagiarized
We have to write our own death.
05/25/15 
Currently listening to Boston by Augustana.
Currently reading Rolling Stone Magazine Issue 1235 May 21, 2015. Dave Says Goodbye.
Mr. Letterman's absent has left an emptiness in my soul as I expected. Though I am hoping it is not a permanent absence but I guess the true mark of being an adult is when your heroes ascend from their thrones.