AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.

4/18/12

Mistakes

You can't let mistakes own you.  There's only so far you can go taking ownership of mistakes that aren't yours to claim.  It's not a witticism.  It's just fact.  At some point you have to stop apologizing and start carrying on and following through and it's so god damn easy to become enraptured in apologetics and turn it into a self sustaining art, but the sustentation of a self through apologetics is about as useful as... all of those words are too big for the facts.  Missing the points.

I was a mistake.  Hatched from a long train of mistakes.  Raised on a book of mistakes. And there has not been or ever will be an apology.  I stopped waiting for one a long time ago.  The thing is, I just have to stop wanting one.  It's hard to do, when you're muscle memory keeps running.  When your boss talks to you and you almost piss your pants thinking he might hit you and you'll take it because that's all you knew growing up.  But you cannot hurt me anymore.  I am not responsible for the equipment I have to work with.  I will see you dead someday.  We'll call it even when that day comes.

I'm done apologizing for my psychological make up.  I am, apparently, as God told my parents to make me.  And apparently it ain't so good.  For the last two years I've been working on undoing all of the bullshit.  I'll get there.  I'm done being sorry.  I just want to be free.


///The Five Corners Quintet - "This Could Be the Start of Something Big"

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