Strategy for the Honest

December 4, 2012 § Leave a comment

Rules. Whose? Why not mine? The rules I can’t follow are rules I have to change, fit to me. It won’t work the other way round. Confidence makes the rules mine to make, mine to play. Fun. Whatever I get having fun is worth having. Only my rules know me. Why inexpertly interpret someone else’s handbook? For how much longer do I misapply someone else’s tricks? Haven’t I always eschewed tricks? Don’t fake it to make it; just make it! Tricks are fake, failed adaptations. As a diet is to eating. Know yourself and your needs, and you can trust your imagination to get them: Strategy for the honest.


Just Out of His Reach

October 16, 2012 § Leave a comment

It’s a woman’s world. I’ve empowered myself too late. Learning to love myself will be handier than I thought. Alone is good practice. I’ll try to accept the new order. I can only hope for a gentler place, where I can be sensitive without being considered weak. Can I understand my new role any better than the old? Will the new rules be any more useful to me than the old ones? If I was indeed empowered or entitled as a white male, it was to things of which I was largely incapable of utilizing. Nothing was truly mine for the taking, and I didn’t learn any other way to get it. Likewise, the women of my generation have not taken possession of their new advantage. They still expect me to the suitor/aggressor. Who gets the cake? and who gets to eat it? Woman made it but no longer offers it to man. Will she eat it herself or preserve it in perpetuum just out of his reach?

Who Do I Think I Am?

March 27, 2012 § Leave a comment

There is a lot to life. I still have dreams, but they aren’t those of my youth, when I wanted to be a cowboy and a fireman and a baseball player. Reality, responsibility, practicality, low self-esteem turned those dreams to smoke. I even thought I would be a writer. But everything’s so hard. My needs seem simpler, but I can’t imagine attaining them. A lifetime of everyday responsibility has not prepared me for attending to my needs, which are not a bill to pay or a job to get to on time. The life prescribed by society is not mine at all. How do I get from it what it seems to have made no provision for? Playing by the sanctioned rules wins only trifles of that game and only amounts to a tease to keep playing. I’ve always hated playing, always knew there was nothing in it for me, no reward worth having, much less keeping; but tired of fighting or trying to play by my own rules, I would fall miserably back in line to give the pretense another go. That’s life–mine anyway: A run at freedom on a tether too short, a glimpse of my true self from too far away, then a return to the herd and my tattered blinders. Who do I think I am?

Where Am I?

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