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???
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