Friday, June 5, 2015

Absolution and Reprieve (2)

You stop watching TV. You'd think that would be a mindless outlet for everyone, but things bleed through.

You find out that everything does. The worst isn't the bad acting on reality TV (Snooki is actually one of the most pure hearted people-- I don't know if that makes the knowing better or worse).

If you're me, instead of seeing what movie your favorite actors are playing in, I sense what they were going through at the time the movie was filmed. There's that one actor who is a household name.  That golden voice. He didn't do anything newsworthy,(although the tabloids would have you believe otherwise) it's what he lived through. It makes me wonder why he never talks about that night, the smell of gasoline, the screams. How he never faltered, not in his heart, or his actions. What a warrior's heart he has, and yet, he doesn't ever mention that night. He never speaks it, but he lives it every day. That's the real story. The things we can never bring ourselves to speak aloud to a single living soul. The things that make us remarkable are the things we lock inside ourselves. Makes me wonder why humanity has survived as long as it has.

I listen to Beatles songs obsessively. Each song is like a snowflake, more beautiful than the last. It's hard to find just one to love, but I have my favorite. The best part about listening to the fab four is simple. They were on different planes of (thought) the whole mind thing. Drugs and smoking keep the worst of it out. Like a buffer. God bless the smokers and the tokers. And the Beatles.

Growing up this way... I could sit here and try to tell you. I could make analogies and apologies and anecdotes. I could tell you what you want to hear-- that it's great and I make such a big difference in people's lives and that I'm here for a reason and I touch lives.
That's not the truth.
 I think more often than not, I hurt the people I love when I interfere. Sometimes I'm the thing to fear. I don't talk about my dad much. When I do, I bring the good memories to the surface, share out the vagaries, and let the family members I still talk to rest a little easier. I share out those lies like a winning hand of black jack. And they swallow it gladly.

Tomorrow is yet another day. Yours probably stack up like a deck of unremarkable.
 I envy you. I envy your monotony. I envy your complacence. I envy you your differentiation of the weekends.
Tomorrow for me is work. Work, where thoughts bleed.
Somewhere over the rainbow...

Today the boss is thinking of divorcing her husband, but to be fair, she's always thinking of divorce. Today, he took out the trash and kissed her. So, she's thinking that he should get a second chance. He's a hitter.
When I see/feel her replay his abuse in her mind, I want to take a hockey stick to his danglies.
Bad is how she divides the abuse into categories.  Worse,  is the category she labels 'deserved'. That includes kidney punches, being slapped across the face, and the cheating. Like she's given him a reason to do this. He's the reason she's such a good boss. She's stern, but fair. But she suffers at his hands. 
It's the things like this, the knowing that my 98 pound boss gets the shit kicked out of her every other night that make me want to put a plastic bag over my head and call it good.

But I don't.  There's work left for me to do.

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