Unable and Disabled
Thursday, June 24th, 2010Hello, Stranger.
I hope we’ve met before. Life is a bit of a challenge these days. I haven’t even picked up my Georg for adorable diminished chords lately. Toilet is quite lonely without us on him. I should know: The porcelain has gone cold.
I posted once that people are dispirited for a reason. They’re supposed-to-be artists who are supposed to be in full production of their talent, which I suppose should give people a “Whoa”, “Wow”, and “Bullshit”.
I wondered why I am not really trying to suppose these days, only coming to a conclusion that I don’t have the time to “smart guess” anymore; that I’m getting all the needed conclusions for the weeks past and coming. I called it “the surplus of saccharine love”.
Happiness is not a goal; it’s a by-product. That’s Eleanor Roosevelt, then Wikipedia complimented: A by-product is a secondary or incidental product deriving from a manufacturing process, a chemical reaction or a biochemical pathway, and is not the primary product or service being produced. A by-product can be useful and marketable, or it can be considered WASTE.
But waste or not, Love has fucked up my ability to be at my bitterest –which I consider a handicap. At some point, I find myself unable and disabled. Maybe that’s why Morissette wrote better songs in the 90’s.
Until then, Stranger. I am not in hiatus. I’m just trying to live the life of a woman who can’t shit golden eggs. But, for the moment… Thank you.
FATJAZZ



