#510

Still. Knowing it's all a big joke and knowing the joke is on me--I'm not laughing. Fuck it! If I'm the butt, I'm the butt. That's archery butt, by the way. The target of the joke, e.g. the archery butt. I am also the ass, though.

Fuck it. They say you can only be a target if you make yourself one, and even if it's not always true it is decidedly so in this case. So I am the butt and the ass on purpose, and wholly embrace it. Fuming pointlessly is the sweet business. I've earned this butthurt shitty feeling that won't leave me alone and intend to savor it.

*

Speaking as a pretender to my own understanding, performing said farce is an act of steadily increasing hypocrisy. With each scrap of accumulated "knowledge", with the experience of each day attaching itself to the built-up wad of days that represents a life, the intensity and scale of one's personal hypocrisy grows and grows. Well, maybe I can only speak to mine. Maybe your knowledge is good somehow. Mine has proven itself false coin in every material way. 

*

There have been times I knew how to laugh, and nothing else. Look through the archives and you will find them.

What I need is to become that person again, to give birth to myself again before the self-inflicted labor pains kill me.

--JL