no perception in life is more metaphoric than what is seen as one looks through an open window...maybe its the frame given to the object being observed...maybe its because breasts and tits are more often than not what are being looked upon...maybe its simply the convenience of being able to sit while visions of night , weaker moments and crazy people are being taken in...and controlled...it matters not...the window eventually becomes the doorway for the dusting off of the retarded little creature known as man...! learned so much about myself as i watch others learn nothing about me.
there was mr. sex...his window was directly across from my hotel room...he would wait until someone was watching him undress his somewhat ignorant and carefree victim...he didnt really give a shit about sex...it was the thrill of having someone perceive him as a heterosexual man who got his ''pussy''...ironically , i would have been a lot more impressed if he had the other type of pussy-a cat , that is-and treated it with a little kindness...that is to say , the only thing really being fucked was mr. sex himself...in displaying his ''manhood''...he had only proven that he really didnt love women...maybe not even sexually...thats another question...if he had any respect for this woman , he would at the very least tell her of his exhibitionist inclinations...then
they could be perverts together .
i couldnt help ask myself the question : am i like mr. sex??? no , i dont have any desire to lure someone into some type of perverse world and not even tell them about it...yet
all keep secrets that are valuable bits of information that could help others to decide the degree of involvement that they would want to have with us...fuck it!!! if someone loves you , then they love you...to disclose yourself will only help the relationship in the long run...so much time and energy wasted as we pretend to be someone that we are not .
there was a lot of other interesting shit going on outside my bedroom window....most of it concerned with people wanting something that they probably should not be given...it was time to go for a walk down the streets of nice , france...wearing nothing but my underwear...with a quart of cheap wine in my left hand...staggering down the streets of this wonderful place...it was time for some real authentic french chinese food.
Bastard Windows: Chapter Three
the beautiful thing about losing your airplane ticket is that nobody really wants to appropriate it...unlike your wallet or your virginity...or even your new tube of glue... it has no value to any one but yourself...it is almost like trying to take your own life...people no longer want to be with you...they find no value in the alliance.
after a few minutes of heavy breathing...i found my ticket, and weren't the french people happy for me...i responded, “we, we we! ticket! we we we!”
the thought of not getting back on the plane reminds me of playing in a tennis tournament in cape breton in l985...after winning my final match, I was given a piece
of paper by some old lady who probably considered hot flashes as a childhood memory...it was from my lady friend who i was traveling with... essentially it said... “fuck-off."... i cried in front of a rather large crowd as i accepted my trophy...all along the old lady reaffirming me that she probably had to rush home back to halifax and feed her cat or something like that...attempting to make me feel better... yet making me feel that she was probably retarded.
denial is such an interesting quality...could any of us live with our selves if we weren't full of it... if it didn't consume us like lust??? only more unassuming as we are so familiar with it that we no longer are aware of its presence in our lives...does any one really learn to love themselves??? how is it possible when the amount of negative reinforcement and criticism is so overwhelming??? then there is the devil... tempting us to do shit we know is wrong...even if we abstain... the thoughts we have to deal with still ring in our ears like we had just gotten out of a led zeppelin concert...front row center seats...loving ones self involves pure unadulterated humility... and who ever has any thing to do with that???
after a few minutes of heavy breathing...i found my ticket, and weren't the french people happy for me...i responded, “we, we we! ticket! we we we!”
the thought of not getting back on the plane reminds me of playing in a tennis tournament in cape breton in l985...after winning my final match, I was given a piece
of paper by some old lady who probably considered hot flashes as a childhood memory...it was from my lady friend who i was traveling with... essentially it said... “fuck-off."... i cried in front of a rather large crowd as i accepted my trophy...all along the old lady reaffirming me that she probably had to rush home back to halifax and feed her cat or something like that...attempting to make me feel better... yet making me feel that she was probably retarded.
denial is such an interesting quality...could any of us live with our selves if we weren't full of it... if it didn't consume us like lust??? only more unassuming as we are so familiar with it that we no longer are aware of its presence in our lives...does any one really learn to love themselves??? how is it possible when the amount of negative reinforcement and criticism is so overwhelming??? then there is the devil... tempting us to do shit we know is wrong...even if we abstain... the thoughts we have to deal with still ring in our ears like we had just gotten out of a led zeppelin concert...front row center seats...loving ones self involves pure unadulterated humility... and who ever has any thing to do with that???
Bastard Windows: Chapter Two
i met two friends in the montreal airport... being in montreal and not being allowed to lick the left tit of this compulsively wonderful city ls like being thirteen years old and having your hands tied behind your back while looking at miss july dance and swirl like a hot steamy tornado right in front of you...i love this city... it's the place in the world where selling your soul for a sandwich could potentially be a reasonable proposition... in fact, the reason why god got so pissed off at whats-his-face for selling his soul for a bowl of soup was because the soup wasn't made by a french canadian.
i am a very sensitive fellow... two nervous breakdowns...four years with post-traumatic stress (accompanied with depression)... and a two day coma-type situation after I tried to murder myself...a year of intensive rest, followed by ninety nine days in europe was my recipe for healing...a wonderful idea, and being in a place where no one could identify me I could act like the biggest ars in the world and it wouldn't matter...i am a clergyman... we are all assholes, right?
As the plane was taking off into the bright afternoon sky i began to consider life... specifically...|taking back what was stolen from me: my health. we all take things that don't belong to us. ..the church bitches about the sinfulness of sex, but tell me this...when is sex not sinful??? i mean, even in the context of marriage, when are people honest about their truest intentions during the act of screwing??? when is it ever separated from selfish motives, deceit, and using the other for instant gratification??? that is to say, maybe the church is so preoccupied with the condemning of sex before marriage simply because it disregards the real issues of sexual intimacy, the issues of the heart. Is it an act of love or an act of dishonesty?
what has been taken from me is my health...religious institutions raped it from me as i was bending down in the shower to return to them their bar of soap... they never got the soap, nor did they clean themselves in any respect...they simply fucked me up the ass ... and i want my innocence back.
i am a very sensitive fellow... two nervous breakdowns...four years with post-traumatic stress (accompanied with depression)... and a two day coma-type situation after I tried to murder myself...a year of intensive rest, followed by ninety nine days in europe was my recipe for healing...a wonderful idea, and being in a place where no one could identify me I could act like the biggest ars in the world and it wouldn't matter...i am a clergyman... we are all assholes, right?
As the plane was taking off into the bright afternoon sky i began to consider life... specifically...|taking back what was stolen from me: my health. we all take things that don't belong to us. ..the church bitches about the sinfulness of sex, but tell me this...when is sex not sinful??? i mean, even in the context of marriage, when are people honest about their truest intentions during the act of screwing??? when is it ever separated from selfish motives, deceit, and using the other for instant gratification??? that is to say, maybe the church is so preoccupied with the condemning of sex before marriage simply because it disregards the real issues of sexual intimacy, the issues of the heart. Is it an act of love or an act of dishonesty?
what has been taken from me is my health...religious institutions raped it from me as i was bending down in the shower to return to them their bar of soap... they never got the soap, nor did they clean themselves in any respect...they simply fucked me up the ass ... and i want my innocence back.
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