Prolapse

LOL. Just did a wee bit o' editing. Did I say what I thought I said? Or am I instead going somewhere with feelings not welcome in real time and space? I find myself cycling back as I did before here, seeking to assign responsibility for those emotions elsewhere other than within myself. If isn't boilerplate existentialism, I'll eat my hat. Can't believe I'm doing it again. It can't go on. Can it?

What happens when a tremendous ego-ideal clashes with no desire? I just want the truth, for crying out loud. Weary of guessing game. She looked so elegant last night but the environment was profoundly scuzzy. You want to say that but you'd like it requited. It goes round and round. She's not interested. Get over it. Don't fight the yobs. One could end up very dead that way.

Solicited a conversation with a strange fellow too. Had to relate to her the travesty of a trannie wearing Old Glory with regard to people who've buried KIAs. Awful provocation. So I ask this person what's the difference between thinking about someone and missing them? I think about a lot of people often but don't miss them. The only person I do, especially when in a social setting, isn't, as mentioned, interested. He went on to say that when you miss someone you feel it in your bones. But I don't feel anything but anger about her absence, which goes back to the emotional dynamic stated above, plugging her into my erstwhile romantic notions. Hell, it could be anybody!

Presently at a coffee place, were I to meet someone else and get along squarely and fairly, I'd not miss the other woman. D'uh. It's a knee slapper thinking I'd meet anyone at her bar, she who cramps hovering in jaded condescension and the clientele not exactly versed in the niceties. I woke up this morning thinking to go back to that, negating all the negation felt last night. It's convenient, I'll say that. And there's that super-egoic manifestation of clearing the mind, letting it all go, and going where I want, when I want. But I have to really let it go. She can have whatever she's got. I just want to be left in peace.

Ugh... how can that happen with the yobs about? But it's like that everywhere. Hadn't gone out in a long time, nor've had the society of a woman. The perversion blows my mind. I should be completely divorced from that but do like to be around familiar people; sick and tired of the perpetual passage of strangers hereabouts. There you go, I miss companionship of yore. Everything has gotten bolloxed.

If Francesca and I have had a falling out,
it shouldn't impact my freedom of action.
She doesn't want to be a friend. So what?
Let her play her role and gopher it.

I've got so much to do around the house
as it cools; don't need the grief.
Yeah, clearing my mind pretty good. 
No football helps. Nor DBacks - lost anyway.