Wishing for the dubious

Pardon Me by Incubus

Pardon me while I burst
A decade ago, I never thought I would be.
At twenty-three on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Woe-is-me
But I guess that it comes with the territory.
An ominous landscape of never-ending calamity.
I need you to hear. I need you to see.
That I have had all I can take
And exploding seems like a definite possibility
To me
So Pardon me while I burst into flames.
I've had enough of the world, and its people's mindless games
So Pardon me while I burn, and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me. I'll never be the same.
Not, two days ago I was having a look in a book
And I saw a picture of a guy fried up above his knees
I said I can relate
Cause lately I've been thinking of combustication as a welcomed vacation from.
The burdens of the planet earth, like gravity, hypocrisy, and the perils of being in 3-D...
And thinking so much differently.

Hence, the termination of my "in love" phase. This is what gets me going in the mornings.

I wish I were in Canada, smoking a clope with CBF in the cold. Or at a cozy bar with Pecker, a glass of vodka mixed with somehting citrusy in my hand, giggling about the eccentricities of being apt and capable but choosing to be single. I wish I were with Mom on the patio of our concrete beach cave, smoking banana leaves (huh?) and discussing how men are the crops of irony. I wish I were at Alda's, with my HPP buds, smoking and eating pies and talking (like old times). I sigh at the indifference and the bitter-sweet longing to be somewhere else but here.

All those wishes of smoking with people I care about (hence, the pun: "pardon me, while I burst into flames") is the irony of my crass habit. I only enjoy smoking when I engage in great conversation. I miss great conversation, but, right now, I'd rather be alone.

Wehehehe. I am in a hormonal mood. I've been cradling my angst for the past two weeks. My mind and my heart haven't been in agreement lately. I fiddled with the notion of letting either my sanity or my serenity go. Although, even before I could make the choice, I [am not suprised to] discover that both have long gone. So, here I am, wading in the familiar stream of passivity, waiting for the angst to pass. I will wait for sanity and serenity to come back. (For some reason, they have chosen to elude me. Damn it, you!)

No one can piss me off, for the most part. The world has no choice but to welcome ME. If you don't like it, get over it. I AM HERE TO STAY!