she's not there

everybody's got their little foothold in the side of the fucking mountain here. it doesn't seem to matter if that foothold happens to be someone else's ass.

that is the glory of this world. that is the outrageous joy of knowing that it's all an enormous illusion-- that there is such a thing as north or south, such things as "top" and "bottom." suffering is suffering, no matter who is doing the suffering. or why.

i'm about to become a pilgrim, once again. that's right, they're going to let me out of my box and flap my wings and show off my new plumage, ha. i'm going to see lots of strangers in different parts of the country. i'm going to see my friends, see my cousin again too after so many years.

still, i keep imagining people making jokes about me. i know exactly what they'd say, and i might even agree with them. "yeah guys, i am a drama queen. i would do anything for your approval, and i am quite likely to just freak the fuck out at any given moment." don't forget old, fat cantalope-tits.

regardless, folks certainly expect you to prove yourself around here.

people get sick of their lives and their jobs and their associates wherever they live, i'm sure. california is no paradise. i think it just depends on your comfort level with being disposable.

so, i have been persona non grata in countless times in my life and it's really not the end of the world. it wouldn't be such a huge brass bell crashing through the roof if...god forbid...i lost my IDENTITY or something. the people i respect the most have had to build and rebuild their identities constantly, always constructing and always evolving. these folks appreciate having something after having had nothing. versus those who've been playing Chutes and Ladders all their lives.

lastly, just for a little feminine flavor...where are the guys who want the girls who don't give a whale's rectum about diamond rings? the guys that would prefer intelligence and beauty on the inside and out, versus underfed debutantes with MBA's from private universities, girls who enjoy wearing heels and insist on designer towels? where are the guys who just want a fucking equal? and by equal i mean not ONE of the guys...i mean, an emotional, intellectual, spiritual, social equal? the shallowness makes me want to commit hari kiri with a spatula.

but then again...i guess when *I* am ready to start accepting others (i.e. men and their rather droll expectations) for who they are, only THEN will i find a true friend, lover, and companion. i'm not too encouraged by this, but i have a little time yet.

until then, bless you, my sweaty hamster-wheel gym-lovin' bitches.