ROCK OBLISK by m.s.wardrip
Weary and excited the vertical symbol afforded me no luxury. Ah, my heart strings pull at my wretched hands that long to be somewhere they shouldn’t be. Some hungry friends somehow control their animal lusts. I am not so fortunate abeit, I try. Apparently not hard enough as I tetter on the fence between betrayal and submission. I want some things too. I love being inspired by new ideas. I like texture in my life even though some things are better left alone, unspoken. In broad daylight, I like adventure. I get bored easily and I don’t know if that’s laziness or depression or both and more. I am certain I have disorders. Who does not? We all are bunch of depraved souls barely hanging on due to civilizations rules of engagement. Sometimes I don’t follow the rules and that gets me in trouble. Sometimes. Other times I scoot right on by. I slide by the door to the emergency room, defying the fact that it is an emergency. I move past the storm drain as it sucks people and their lives right down the drain. I am having difficulty swimming upstream because it is a trial, a challenge, an obstacle to overcome. I will somehow win even though I have suffered defeat. I am amazed at the notion that someone would want to go along with my craziness and I’m also appaled that no one wants to at times. Rock star? Hardly. Old Blues man? More like it. How did I end up here? An old Blues guy. Sort of sucks, sort of is awesome. I like to think it is a display of emotion, an outlet for our self-expression, a teacher, a pointed finger, an assassin, a whore, a reveler, a rebel and twister trister a baffoon blowing balloons. I never thought it would be me dancing, dangling at the end of a string. A horrible notion. I am not exactly the right person for to become a marionette puppet. I am more like the string puller. I assume money just comes, I assume, women just come and I assume that when it’s time for me to come, I’ll just come. Along the way are tripups, scammers, derailers and contesters. I can’t take it. I just want my life. I can’t be something I don’t want to be. I must be me. I must be who I think I am. I need to be wanted, not rejected, I want to be loved, not hated. I know no one wants to hurt me. I know some want to hurt me. I am hurt. I have hurt others. Won’t we ever learn? Won’t we ever see? Won’t we ever be the people we want to be? I am glad that everything is under control because my control is not sufficient.
