Something Beautiful

How come sometimes things work out and sometimes they don't? Philosophers say that there is a balance to the universe and everything evens out. The good with the bad. The beautiful with the grotesque. The employed and me. But sometimes it feels like the scales are tipped in others' favor while you are stuck at the bottom like a fat kid on a see-saw. All you want to do is have fun but the world is a constant reminder that you will spend another week eating your lunch in the library hoping no one farts in your trumpet case when you're not looking only to open it at band practice after school and get a whiff of what James McDoogal left behind hours later.

And no matter how many times you threaten to stab a person in the eye with a ballpoint pen for bringing it up, they will still insist that it will get better. Eventually it will be your turn up to plate in the cricket match of life; you may not understand what you're doing or even what the rules are but if you just start swinging wildly, after a while, you will statistically mistakenly do something right. And a few months ago I was sure my life took one look at that googley and sent it flying in whichever way you need to send it to get whatever is equal to a homerun in cricket; because she walked back into my life.

*Enter Film Noir Voiceover Mode*

We had a rocky past. It was true. When we met we were just two crazy kids with vengence on our mind. Not at anyone in particular, but at the world. The kind of vengence a goth kid has in his eyes when he is told he got the answer wrong in Junior Year English class; take that for reading Nitzche, wearing all black and not having any friends. She... was a firecracker. An absolute babe with a streak to get a little crazy. Things got too hot too fast and I had to cool down; her eyes were like lasers that would cut me in half unlike all those James Bond films where it seemed like he was doomed but got out at the last second. My heart was giving out. I couldn't run this marathon at her pace. So I let her go like that old saying says, "If you love someone, let them go. If she steals your teddy bear from your room as she's leaving and sends you small pieces in the mail with a ransom note, bitch is crazy."

That was years ago, and I heard the Feds finally tracked her down after a three state chase. Thanks to her they added a new color to the Homeland Security Scale. She seemed so innocent, like the way bears seem really gentle when you see them at the zoo but the second you find a bear cub in the forest and dress it up like Teddy Ruxbin momma comes around and the next camping trip you are taking is so you can scatter your friend's ashes in the field where he lost his virginity to Tiffany Zebrowski who turned out to be his third cousin.

But she walked back into my life not so many weeks ago and I thought it could be like old times. Sure, she's been around the block more times than a Lego inspector. And maybe she didn't always have that tattoo of of the rebel flag across her shoulders. And perhaps she forgot my name when I ran up to her at the airport and maced me. But once she realized who I was, and I corrected her from calling me Dan, we were the same old couple. My parents may not have ever liked her, my friends and a couple churches down South call her the Devil Incarnate, and she's constantly sleeping with other guys. But what we had was love.

Then she went and moved to Nashville... such is the balance of the universe. Maybe one day it will swing back my way. For now though, I'm just going to tell everyone the tattoo of her intials I got on my chest stand for Something Beautiful, because that's what she was. And I will still say that no matter how many knife fights end with you wearing an eye patch.

People Tell Me Things

People tell me things. They tell me things about their life that normal people share with friends in normal conversation. I get told a lot about how their job hunt is going, or getting ready to move out of their parent's house and start a new life, or even worse, how their love life is doing. And then they ultimately ask for advice. And I am the perfect person to go to for relationship advice, I have always advocated that. In all my relationships, how many ended with her not talking to me for a number of weeks and/or months? Exactly, all of them. But how many of them still talk to me now after they have had time to think about what they are missing? Exactly... uhhh, next topic.

People tell me things. Deep secrets of love and love lost. Topics that really bring two people together in a bond of truth about those most serious woes of the heart. But no one has ever told me that they have accidently killed a man in a hit and run accident... and that hurts me inside. If I can be trusted to divulge the most intimate of relationship details to, why can you not tell me of the time you burnt down that church while the nuns were asleep inside on a dare? Am I not good enough for you to explain to me how you stole $15 million dollars from the Special Olympics back in 1997? The defintion of friendship is one of trust and understanding. Now I trust you, why can't you understand that I want to hear your stories of defacing a public building with Nazi propaganda?!

People tell me things. They don't tell me anything remotely interesting, just the boring mundane trials of life. If I have to sit through another story of how someone's grandmother "got through the surgery well and is going to make a complete recovery," I think I'm going to get sick. Woo Hoo! Her gaul bladder didn't explode. Mine hasn't either. Congratu-frikkin-lations. Do you really want to impress me? Tell me grandma's last dying words were "Avenge my death!" and you spent the last three hours stalking around a hospital with a syringe full of mercury looking for the bastard of a medical student who brought your grandma lunch that day just because he's wearing a white coat. Moving around slowly and inconspicuously you take out every member of the medical staff that came into contact with your grandma that day just in case, and you want to make sure grandma's got company in hell.

People tell me things. What do you have to tell me?