Monogamy and Monkeys

I’ve been thinking about life, love and monogamy lately. I know that as civilized humanoids we are bound by convention to find a mate and stick with him[i]. But in truth, how realistic is this? We all know that no matter how committed we are to a relationship we are all guilty at one time or another of being attracted to other specimens. Propriety dictates that though this happens, our interactions with these ‘others’ be limited to simple ogling and nothing else. Sure, our base desires to procreate with as many people as we possibly can and thereby propagate the species in inherent in us, but now we have rules and more importantly limited budgets and we can’t just bandy our willies erm, willy nilly.

So where do we draw the line? I think we can all accept that it’s morally unjust to promise to exclusively be with one person and then not stick to the rules. But then that whole tree falling in a forest thing comes to play. What we don’t know doesn’t hurt us. So is it better to indulge in a little hanky panky on the side for the sake of maintaining the relationship? Or should we just gird our loins metaphorically and figuratively and stay frustratingly faithful? I’m sure there are plenty of people who would not even consider this as a dilemma. People who are quite happy with whoever they are with, and have no desire to blur the lines. And to them I say good on you; you obviously have something rare and special and that’s great.

But even these so called committed people, sure they maybe pure in deed but are they as pure in thought? And really, do we even need to be? We are designed to be attracted to people with characteristics that we find pleasing. And we shouldn’t feel wracked with guilt every time we are. I don’t think this argument can have one absolute conclusion. This is probably one we’re going to wrestle with till the asteroid hits[ii].

[i] or her, but I shall use “him” from now on since I can’t be arsed to type him/her
[ii] Of course we’re going to snuff it crushed under a giant asteroid. What was good for the dinosaurs is jolly well good for us.

Equilibrium

What’s that you say? It’s not easy?
Damn straight it isn’t
“I know it’s hard” they say
“I don’t know how you do it”
“I’d have gone crazy if I had to do all you do”
Well, you know what?
It IS hard
I do it because I HAVE to
And you know the funniest thing of all? I’m probably halfway there to crazy
I’m know I’m resilient, but then, so are most people
No matter what crap life throws at us, we take it, and we deal with it
Not because we want to
But because we have to
Because we’re responsible and there’s no one else standing behind you to lean against when you’re tired.
So what do you do when you Do get tired?
You make yourself forget that you are, and soldier on
Drag yourself out of bed even if you’re as sick as a dog
Because someone else’s life depends on you
You Do it
Because it needs to be done
And it goes on and on and on
Day in and day out
Till you don’t know Tuesday from your arse and the dates don’t matter
So don’t tell me you understand
Don’t tell me you know what it’s like
Because you don’t
So don’t talk
Instead
Hold me for a while
Let me feel like I still matter
That despite everything, I am a person too, and yes, I’m allowed to have a life
Yeah,
That’ll do it.

Truth

If I wonder
and I do
when you say you love me
why would you
I stare into the truth in your eyes
and I feel it too

If you’d hold me one more time
I’d feel better for a while
then you go
as you should
and I alone
with the truth

But the reasons keep me warm
with belief I carry on
know that I
will be strong

midst the tangles
of our truth

Tales from a chicken coop; part deux

I'm getting used to my little cell in the nether regions of the building not-so-mysteriously alluded to as "SW". Since I was one of the first batch of inmates, i got to chose a cell with a view. It's a nice view too; all paddy fields and trees and other random green clumpy stuff.

So in other news, Steve Jobbs has passed. I'm more saddened that I expected to be. I'm pointedly avoiding Facebook, even more so than usual. Not quite in the mood to tolerate the illiterate spewings of lesser mortals today. (Yes, I'm in that kind of mood).

In other other news, the personal project that i unexpectedly started yesterday is going okay. So far I haven't murdered anyone or torn out my hair.

And that, folks, is the end of this unbearably boring post.

Irritable Vowel Syndrome

Dear vowel abusers,

I can't help but observe that many of you seem to be in the habit of appending multiple vowels at the end of each word in a misguided attempt to emphasize said word. For example, you add a gazzillion "e"s to the end of the word "nice" simply because you want to stress the word nice. You do realise that this bastard word you have spawned can only be pronounced as "nicey", and that too by suspending reality for a few seconds? what the hell is wrong with you people? There are other, better ways of getting attention. Jumping off a skyscraper, for one. I'm willing to bet that the view on the way down would indeed be nice.

Always me

back-story: I was asked by a friend to write a song. Now i know nothing about songwriting. The only sort of lyrical ability i have is to hammer out lines that make no sense to anyone else and don't rhyme by any stretch of the imagination. It came out corny and it will stay corny. i can't fix it (i was given a general idea to work with so i had to stick to it broadly). anyway, i sent it to my friend who never replied my message or ever acknowledged receipt of the song so it's even worse than i thought it was, and i had thought it was bad to start off with. anyway, here it is. in all it's cheesy glory.

Just another child

Waiting for an answer

In the darkened sky

There’s a sign of renewal

Walk with me to higher ground

I’ll pick myself up if I stumble now

Look at me as I tear the shadows down

I seek I need I want I try

Wait for the moment to touch the skies

Hear me now

See me now

Listen to the voice of belief

I trust in me

Told me I can’t fly

I heard the mocking in their laughter

You held me as I cried

Deluded and bewildered

I built these walls to keep them out

Watch me now as I tear them down

I’m stronger and I make my own way now

I laugh I run I search I fly

In my mind I reach the skies

Feel me now

Run with me now

Hear me shout out in sheer disbelief

Trust in me

…It was always me

Emotiwant

(part deux of this)

So by a superhuman effort I avoided using these chaps for two whole days. But i felt listless, incomplete and strangely repressed. I kept wondering "can people understand me?"; "do they think i'm pissed off because there's no smiley at the end of the snarky message i just sent?"; "have i lost all my friends in one fell swoop?". by the end of last night i was reduced to a gibbering paranoid idiot.

okay so i may have exaggerated a bit in the above paragraph. but in all honesty, i did feel slightly repressed. i think i have gotten so used to appending a little squiggly face to my sentences to assure people that i mean no harm. to dull the bluntness of my words. and without, i feel misunderstood. such a strange dilemma. are we so inept at expressing ourselves that we need a pictorial representation of what we just said as well? whatever the reason, i am retracting my pact of not using emoticons. of course i will try not use them as sluttily as i did before, but in a more chaste, productive way.

:)

Emotinot

Starting today I have decided to stop using emoticons. I have realised that I have come to depend on them way too much and even use them as a shield to mask my real emotions. No more! I shall henceforth be forthright, articulate and user proper punctuation. No more of the squiggly faces. If people can't understand my mood from the way i write then I'm a lousy writer and need to go sit in a corner and seriously think about a career change.

Also, being a certified emotitard, I wasn't using them buggers properly anyway.

(author's note: being emotitarded is a legitimate handicap and people suffering from it should not be mocked in any way. After much research scientists have concluded that this could be a side effect of literacy; another abnormal aberration that unfortunately has no cure. )

(author's other note: this is not an easy habit to beak, and I might slip up along the way. If you catch me typing in colon/bracket when I have no reason to do so, please feel free to kick me.)

UPDATE: This shit be hard, yo.

Musings (9)

Survival of the Sluttiest: sleeping your way to the top of the corporate food chain.

Backwards

too much

too fast

my dysfunctional past

i have forgotten

but will i ever forgive?

The Visitor - Part 2

(part one is here)

This time, I’m ready for him.

Open the door even before he raises his hand to knock.

He tips his hat, ever polite,

“Been expecting me?“ he says.

Just a flicker of amusement crosses his face

I silently gesture him in; his drink, already poured, sits at the table.

As he takes his seat he shoots me a cautionary glance; “You seem different.”

“That’s because I am.” I shrug,

“I have realized that I can’t beat you.”

“No matter how fast I run, you will always be there waiting for me at the finish line.”

He says nothing. Merely raises a questioning eyebrow.

I shrug again, resignedly,

“It’s over. You’ve won. I’m done fighting.”

Silence.

I pour my own drink. Raise the glass.

“To you, the victor.” I say mockingly.

He doesn’t move; waits till I gulp down two thirds of my drink.

Finally, leans over, face inches from mine.

I can smell him. He smells of memories.

“Giving up is not how you face reality” He says, softly.

“Accept. Then do what you can to make reality work for you.”

Maybe he doesn’t speak at all, maybe I just hear his voice in my head

He gets up, tosses his drink back, and once again he’s the suave stranger

He nods at me “be seeing you”.

Places his empty glass on the table, walks out the door.

And I? I sit there and wait for my next guest

The one whom they say waits for no man.

Foolproof Breakup Plan #1

in response to the adverse comments of a certain critic (who really should know better) i have decided to add a footnote to this post.

1) dumper sends the dumpee an email which will contain :

• a heads up to him/her of the breakup.
• reason for breakup (if applicable).
• an attachment consisting of an mp3 of godsmack's "i stand alone"*.

2) Upon receipt of the email:

• dumpee reads the email.
• weeps, and goes through other recognized motions of a dramatic display of grief.
• wipes the tears away and notices the attachment.
• proceeds to play the song.
• plays it a second time, this time singing along loudly and unmelodiously
• feels better.
• calls up a mate and goes to the pub for a beer.

can't go wrong. seriously.

------------------------------------

* The song maybe customised according to the music tastes of the dumpee. (but honestly, if he/she doesn't like godsmack why were you dating him/her in the first place i ask. )

A tiny little self indulgent post

For the longest time, I felt lost. I had forgotten who I was, neglected to do the things that made me feel alive. I’d given so much of myself to those that demanded it that I was just a shadow of who I used to be. Even after I had let go of most of what weighed me down, I still didn’t know how to get back to being me. I couldn’t remember what it felt like and I had no idea where to look. Then one night, in a rare moment of freedome I drifted into a semi crowded room with a friend and there, while waiting for the band to set up, we heard the starting strains of a familiar Puddle of Mudd song. Sitting there on what was probably a packing case of some sort, we belted it out and as we got to the first chorus of she fucking hates me; I remembered what it felt like to be me. That was the small turning point i had needed. To feel alive again, to feel like yes, i can have theses small moments all to myself separate from the responsibility and mundanity i was drowning in. And now, hell, I’m just grateful to be back.

Unfinished Business

Note: this was written in two phases, the first section was written ages ago and i unearthed the word doc today. The last two lines were added then.

what’s in a word

if not meant in earnest

where’s the promise

if it’s broken again

if truth is an enigma wrapped up in a riddle

why do we strive

if we do not gain

if you get what you ask for

does it satisfy

keep asking

and the refusals pile up

where the hell was i going with this

can’t remember but it sounds like rot

Dance

dance the age old dance

doesn't mean a thing we say

where is romance

no room for it in the masquerade

these are the terms of our endearment

confined within the rules of appeasement

whirl in this great pretense

thrive on pure contentment

believe that it only lasts for as long as it should last

so we dance

Past tense first

all the wrong words said the right way

doesn't make it go away

when you tell me that you like her

what am i supposed to say

tell me all about her

tell me all your hopes and dreams

i don't fit in to your life

i might as well listen, no matter how bad it feels

so tell me; hell i got nothing but time

tell me; no i swear it's fine

i have learnt enough from life

to know where the borders lie

so sit right here

and tell me all about

the girl you met

the one i know i'm not

i'll listen

you know i always will

Un-named

Do you dare colour outside the lines?

Would you, if you could?

A sense of right has us roped in tight

Should we muster up the strength to break through?

What would they say, if they knew?

Well, do you really care about the opinion of the virtuous?

It’s theirs to hold; must we lend a hand if we don’t even believe?

The fundamentals of their faith

Is based on conventional norms

But who’s to say convention is right?

I say there are no lines

As long as you don’t invade anyone else’s canvas

Colour where you damn well please

Tales from a chicken coop

The half eaten pizza is not a constant

Having been subject to step motherly treatment at work I should have vented while I was still good and mad. Unfortunately I was reduced to working off a laptop sitting on top of a locker (the laptop, not me) for two days and I was getting a crick in my neck. So I will gather whatever feelings of resentment and anger I can muster now and sally forth.

So basically, in a clichéd nutshell, we’ve been shoved into a personal space of approximately 3.5 feet by 2.5 feet and expected to work in such close proximity with our neighbors that if you push your chair back you bump into the person behind you. No, I’m not exaggerating. Yesterday I pushed my chair back and bumped into my ex-husband. Weird coincidence you say? Not really, he happens to be on my team.

Anyway, so obviously, from the time our stuff was unceremoniously plonked down on this sorry ass excuse for a workstation, I’ve been kicking up a steaming fuss. And after running around talking to practically everyone involved and several people not even remotely involved I at least got a partial solution. What was this solution? They took away one of my computers to make room on the work top. Brilliant notion! Why didn’t I think of that? Why I could’ve merely opened the window and… oh, that’s right, the windows don’t open.

Apparently I’m not supposed to feel bad about the fact that we are being treated differently to the other employees.

“Oh, no, dear me, don’t feel bad” they say, cheerily. “It’s not just your team. Why there are two other teams on either side of you! What’s that? The rest of the company gets to keep their workstations that are twice the size of what you have now? Pshaw, child! This is pure whimsy. Don’t go with the norm! This is the way forward! You are the pioneers of the new future! Chin up!”

And off they walk back to their ginormous office rooms.

I’ve also been told that this is a ‘temporary’ measure. And that I only have to wait till a certain new building comes up. And once it does, we will have brand spanking new accommodation. Well, by golly, so far there isn’t even a hole in the ground where the building’s supposed to fit, so where exactly am I supposed to rest my hopes? On the verdant greenery that surrounds the building wherein resides my shoddy excuse for a desk?

I guess by now you’re thinking, “surely she’s exaggerating? It’s probably not that bad” whilst sitting at your 7 foot desk and stretching your legs and leaning back as far as you damn well please. Well, I am not exaggerating. If I keep my locker under my desk as I’m supposed to, I have no space for my chair. I tried this yesterday and I had to resort to resting my elbow on my knee it order to be able to manipulate the mouse with some degree of comfort. Once the pins and needles set in my nearly comatose body had to pried off my chair.

I have been told that a list of our grievances has been forwarded to the relevant official. (I sincerely hope said official’s BMW of which I’m sure he is inordinately proud, develops engine trouble in the near future and explodes. Then I will point at him -he will be maimed, not killed- and say “ha ha” in a sneering manner. ) I don’t think anything will come of this making of lists but at least then the people who documented it will feel better. “We have forwarded it to the necessary party” they will proclaim proudly, whilst seated at their moderate sized desks in their ginormous offices.

So there it is. Stuck in a chicken coop till a building comes up. Such is my fate. I don’t like this fellow Fate, he’s a bit of a bitch.

Colour Blind

hello green eyed monster

treading softly on tiptoe, catching me unawares

velvet gloves that hide your claws

claws that dig deep and latch on while you taunt me, seduce me

irrational thought is what you feed on

greedy greedy being that you are

scavenger of thoughtless words

destroyer of good intentions

hovering in the recess of my mind

push you away, yet banish you i cannot

green eyes glint

i succumb

Musings (8)

sometimes the little that we have is better than the nothing we might be left with