Laundry Day - No. 1

There are some posts that just don't match or fit the regular format of this blog. So, just like laundry day, when you can't find a matching pair of socks and the sniff test confirms you have nothing fresh to wear, you put on whatever and start sorting what you've got.

I'll be a whole lot more inspired when the bots start picking up this blog and (hopefully) I'll be invigorated by reader responses to make it worth checking out. But until that day comes I'll start mixing things up a bit. I imagine we'll see more stuff like this laundry day post as this blog develops.

So far the T-shirt entries have been a bit of an emptying of my spleen and have been a little dark and much about the same subject. That's fine. I'm not apologizing because I am sorting things out.

Just like getting dressed each day it's easy to become predictable and get in a rut. Since the day-to-day has been without much variety then so have my blog thoughts. But that's not everything going on or all that's in my head. My personality doesn't change depending on the company I keep. I'm not a social chameleon but I am not getting very much stimuli from my environment and I'm having very little inter-personal interaction. I feel like a plant locked in a dark closet. I'm definitely not thriving.

Nonetheless, I have been happy (though miserable) that I am coming to terms with some things. I've had some satisfaction that I'm not hiding from reality and that I have some fundamental choices to make. I'm not in a position to enjoy a relationship so I've been deliberately invisible to the women I meet. It wouldn't be fair to involve myself since I can only offer a friendship without benefits. Men and women really can not pull that sort of understanding off. And even though I love spending time with women and find the experience rewarding it would be like being a gambling addict and visiting Las Vegas "just for the atmosphere" if I engaged any women in conversation. Staying away is difficult. Staying on track would be impossible if I capitulated. So instead I sleep less and complain more. This insomnia is nothing to be warm and fuzzy about, either. Instead of being in love and sleep deprived because I'm unable to get enough of that special someone's company the only company I'm keeping is with my own musings.

So imagine my surprise, that yesterday while absentmindedly playing Spider with not a thought about anything in the world, a song and lyric just fell right out of my head. I've been dry for quite a few years on the creative front. Lately, this blog has begun to pique my interest in writing a novel, but I've been unable to come up with a plot and story line to begin that process and nothing else has been very inspiring, either.

Out popped a song. And just like all of those Christmas songs, that get written in July, this song has no correlation to my thoughts or feelings at this time. It seems very interesting to explore where my conscious and subconscious have stopped speaking to each other.

Again, I really do like women. Not just the fun parts but the whole chaotic jumble of fuzzy logic associated with the critters. You'd just never guess that from stuff like this blog; or, this song I've composed:

Walk on - © copyright ADDhole, 2008

Stop to look, Son, But then keep walkin' on
You're better off alone before she leaves you alone
You're better off gone before she leads you on

Her skin is soft but her heart is stone
Your best days with her will be worse before long
Walk on, Son, in fact I think you better run

Walk on

I know she looks like she's worth her weight in gold
She'll cost you more than that - Take what you've got then steal your soul
Keep walkin' on - go on
While you're empty but whole

The way you look at me, Son, like I must be mad
I used to believe like you with everything I had
That a woman looks too good to ever be somethin' bad

While she's lying there - her hair falling all around
Her words will lie, too, while the tears fall down
She'll play you for a fool till she lays you in the ground

Walk On

I know she looks like she'll be there to have and hold
She may even promise that - Inside of her you'll be made whole
Keep walkin' on - go on
There's nothing there but just a hole

Walk on, Son, in fact I think you better run

OK, Then . . . What Do I Think This Means?
Well after evaluating the prose and patting myself on the back for the multi-faceted depth of the content I was at a true loss for explaining why those thoughts and why, "Now." But, then I decided I should cleanse the palette with a "Chick Flick" and watched "A Good Woman," starring Helen Hunt, Scarlett Johansson and Tom Wilkinson, in particular. Based on a work of Oscar Wilde's, I was so pleased with the humanity and well developed story and characters. I had never heard any of the reviews or any comments regarding this movie and I loved it. And only then did it hit me about what I have been spewing out so many words and wrestling with is an idea I have never associated with women before. I am now coming to terms with the notion that I need to accept it. That notion is that women can not be trusted but I should be able to accept that , be mindful of that; but not allow that to interfere with my relations to women.

Up until now I have held out this belief and hope that there is a distinct sect of women that are pure and virtuous creatures in whom to vest my blind faith and trust. I made the false assumption that I could associate with this pristine sample and discard the rest. But I finally recognize that there is no such animal and I need to come to terms with accepting the flawed as an alternative to abandoning them altogether. In other words, I should stop being surprised that women will hurt, will dissapoint and will fail me. The guy who always congratulated himself on not idolizing women has in fact idealized them. No wonder I am frustrated. Perhaps, I will acclimate to this new discovery and find some solace? I do not know. I now can look with the same desire for accurate assessment with which I have always sought to measure female behavior but not expect to see it improve. Sad but somehow helpful.

Well, that's what's spilled out of this pile of dirty laundry so far.