Might As Well Paint It Black

Text messages demand my attention, beeps, whistles and winky faces refusing to give me time or quarter.

Grab the phone in my left hand, dial with my right and within seconds my blood pressure is elevated, laser beams shoot my eyes and fire from my mouth.

I look up at the ceiling and wonder if I passed out or put myself on the floor so that I wouldn’t burn the new TV with the aforementioned laser and fire.

There is dead air filling my ears and nothing on the screen of my phone so it is clear the conversation has concluded.

One deep breath followed by another and I sit up and confirm there are no holes in the walls or any sort of burn marks on anything around me.

Can’t decide if I am happy or sad to see the lasers and fire were nothing but figments of imagination.

I suppose that the fictional damage won’t get a response from me like “might as well paint it black” as the cool nonchalant non excuse for destruction.

The Choices We Make

I can’t go back in time and correct the past but if ever there was a moment where I wish I could it is now.

There is a list of about five things I would do differently and I am quite confident that I would be pleased with them.

Somewhere in the back of my head I hear a voice saying you can’t say that for certain. It doesn’t matter whether you use science or faith, it is impossible to prove.

I strangle the voice with my bare hands and then confirm it is dead by shooting it twice in the head and running it over with a bus.

This is not the time nor place for discussion, rational or otherwise.

Can’t rappel down the side of this mountain, you can only go up and hope you don’t fall down because you know it is going to hurt bouncing off of every outcropping or rock or shrub.

****

“You have to live with the choices you made.”

I tell them in colorful and graphic terms I am not obligated, required or limited to living with those choices.

There are options I can choose from and yes, I understand there are consequences but I am prepared to live with them.

Consequences are part of life and you face them no matter what you do.

Think Too Much

The sometimes bitter truth of the current moment is that too much thought placed me in the funny but not in the laughing sort of position I am in now.

Too much time plotting, planning and trying to structure what couldn’t be planned, plotted or structured did this.

I would feel better had less thought been put forward and advanced because then we could shrug our shoulders and say, “well if we had…”

But that can’t be said and it is of time to engage in such a thing.

Hell, far too many conversations seem to be a waste of times these days and those I really want to have aren’t happening.

That presents quite the conundrum, now doesn’t it.

Well I could proffer a theory about these things but I choose not to because sometimes silence is best.

****

In between the ranting and wishing I didn’t have to pack to get on a plane the man who has been labeled crazy makes a promise to himself to think less.

More action based on gut feeling and instinct and less based upon research, survey and empirical evidence.

Hell, what he really needs is something best left unsaid.

Imaginary Talk

Given the chance to grab some men for conversation I would grab the two Pablos (Picasso & Neruda), Shakespeare, Springsteen and King.

And we’d go off to some cool cabin or resort to talk about the important stuff and to compare thoughts and ideas.

That would be interesting wouldn’t it, three dead men, a musician and a writer and a meshugehneh.

It would be far more interesting than waiting for the clothes in the dryer to actually be dry so that I might fold and or hang them so that I could finish my chores and go to sleep.

Yeah, it is a fine idea, might as well paint it black.

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