With my hands tied behind my back

It's after the party. The ballroom is littered and empty. I am naked. My hands are tied behind my back. There is no music. The band is long gone. Yet, still I dance. I dance with a smile.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Where is redsneakz?

I'm a Dedicated Slacker

Seems like it's been forever since I've written.
Life takes place and sometimes all other things step aside.
Eb and flow.
I guess I'll spare you the where have I been, what have I done in the new year and just start from scratch. (Heh... "Scratch.")

I'm pretty discouraged w/ the 2008 election. I started doing my homework on the candidates and then decided that maybe I should wait until the parties decide and then continue w/ that homework after February.

I'm constantly amazed at how positively dim some people actually are. I hear something and think, are your really that stupid? Yes. And then I'm amazed at how they've continued to survive for the last 32 years. Although they haven't thrived, only survived.
And then I sort of sympathize and understand because for 32 years that person hasn't had to thrive.
Everything has been taken care of and they've never had to be responsible... so then I get it. They honestly, whole hearted believe they do not have to be held accountable.
Then they run into me and I say "I'm not okay w/ that and yes you need to step up." Sucks to meet me. Really. I hope you never have to cross my path. I have visions of stupid people getting a faux punch in the jaw and their head slacking back from the impact. Birds start flying around their noggin and they are like "der, huh?" And I stand there w/ a "shit- eaten grin."

Honey, everything I have I've worked for. No body (except my mother) ever gave me a break. I'd crawl through hell and back to make things right, so you should probably just toss in the towel now. Save yourself the agony.
I have the advantage of being smart too... there is that.

This writing has totally gone AWOL. 2008 election to "other mother"... I don't know how I do it.
I'm sure there is some psychological, unconscious reason for it.