Skip to main content

B is for Maintenance

Something amazing happens when you become attracted to someone – your best self emerges. In the unlikely event you weren’t LIVING this best self before (or else you’ve tried to ignore it), suddenly (and without warning! – I like saying that), you have become the vision of the man or woman you could be.

Those of you who know me know how prone I am to make everything a god. This is not good for a MONOTHEIST. But when I say god [common g] I refer to a quality or series of qualities that causes all other humans to become spread apart like the Red Sea, leading you onward to this goal. I look at some of these girls in my life and I realize they carry a godish quality about them. Some are hiding it (And this makes me very, VERY annoyed) and others seem to know that it’s there… but have not become arrogant by it.

Of course being somewhat… priestly of some form and a hopeful romantic, it is possible that I am merely projecting an imperfect perfection on them. This is a hypothesis I am willing to accept as theory. BUT whatever the case, one thing is certain – when approaching these ‘gods’, ones best self must be recognized and honored.

But what about maintenance?

In advertising there’s a term called maintenance ads. After the campaign is launched with great flare and hoorah, maintenance ads appear (during the rest of the designated period) giving short bursts of information about the brand while keeping that central theme constant – in essence new ads with the same flare. This keeps the brand present and (hopefully) in a good light with the consumer; the very ones we so desperately tried to connect with.

Now I am not without fault but i think the difference between me and most humans is that I am NOT human. I am mortal (more on that in another post). I don’t think I will take for granted she (whoever that is) who sits in my heart. Though even now I am proved a hypocrite as I have on occasion taken my mom or even God on High for granted. But surely, this could be different... were I to pursue the earth gods. See because, this is me: half mad, half groovy sometimes holy or maybe not. I can speak in these tones because I believe in these tones as much as I believe in wrapping my head in a scarf and singing “I whip my hair back and forth”. I believe in me I guess, so the maintenance part should be fine (with a bit of work of course 'cause all things are a measure of work).

But what about the rest of us in this earth realm? Can you maintain it? Having wooed (do people still say, “wooed”? grief) them, having played to your best self can you keep it up or will it be a long show that only appears for a week during certain occasions.
Hurry! Tickets are going fast…

Pax.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

B is for Loving Boys

90's boy love - Joey n Chandler....
a moment of randomness between Catharsis videos

There are boys I love. And they love me. And we’re open about it. Just last Saturday I got a text message from one of those boys who said “I love you too man” in response to something I said. My boys are artists, artistes, atheists, and agirl (who is in fact one of the boys so hence the addition to the category) fathers, brothers and high school musicals (Jed and Umar will get that one – lol). We share ideas, music, random nothingness and Brent Worthington . We approve, reprove and listen to each other. I think the girl that I end up with must in fact be like the boys I love. Good looks aside… please… have some substance. One of my boys is appalled that I watched Gossip Girl (if you’re going to bash it… know what it is first) and has for this [and other minor reasons] jokingly labeled me a homosexual. But he who looks like Miley Cyrus with rainbow bandanas should not talk [chuckles]. I love my boys…

Play of the Week WK #6

B is for The Haunting October

--> I first felt it in the shower. Nostalgia. Creeping up my leg and resting on my shoulder. Bony fingers caresses in that sickeningly sweet way nostalgia often does. It was the end of September or the beginning of October... That night in the shower when I remembered an old October, reading poetry at a wine factory; with sandwiches as big as your face. And I remembered two tables. Friends and a girl. And it was October. The sealing of fate. 2008.
Days passed but not before the memory of darkness and a knife. The surgery that changed me... And it was October. October or go to Heaven. 2007.
Time passed and so did my expectations. Fluctuations in blood flow in the head causes heart to flutter for another. Infatuation of the highest order. The beginning of tears and sighs of"it's not fair" and the wandering nature of soul; I'm done, turn me over. And it was October. All my queries I vowed to shelve. 2012.
And Sunday. When I threw the scroll and claimed I was don…