Mating Sparrows and the Happily Ever After Syndrome

What will I write about today?  All of the freaky people out on this warm spring morning?  My obsessive, tortured heart?  The incessant battle in the name of good posture?  My unconventional dream of becoming a saint (after I retire as a writer, of course)?  The bitterness of my cappuccino today as a metaphor for the way “It” has been?  Everything is interesting.  Everything teeters on the edge of insanity.  Or maybe that’s just me.  What do you think?  Are we all precariously balanced, wobbling on the brink of madness, or is that just me?  Do you ever have those moments when you’re just going about your business and suddenly you are washed with this wave of… what is it?  Fear.  Maybe that’s how Alice felt as she free fell down the rabbit hole.  It’s an out of control feeling like whoa, I’m so small and so big and so alone and so connected all at once and this moment is everything and it’s too much for me to open to and accept.

I started to feel it again just describing it… and then this guy walked by outside with his dog.  Dang it, I forget what the breed is called.  One of those long, slender, tri-colored hunting dogs.  The ones that run about the Shires of England, pointing out the water fowl to their oh so civilized, shot gun clad masters on horseback.  Now you can dig it, cantcha?  Well, it was soothing.  Something so captivating, present and finite.  A resting place for my roving attention.

Aloneness.  That’s been one of my most unwieldy and essential pills demanding to be swallowed.  Why?  I’m alone right now and it rocks.  So what’s the big deal?  I don’t know.  Oh, wait, yes I do.  It’s the illusion of being separate from God.  For me, it kinda blows after a while.  Okay, okay, lemme back up.  I realize that I treaded on landmine strewn terrain by using the G word.  God seems so obvious to me.  No, I don’t have a shred of evidence, so don’t bother asking.  I just imagine that I know.  Fill in what ever word you please~ Creator, Spirit, Universe (I think Universe would win the popularity contest by a landslide right now, since it isn’t affiliated with any pukey institution of organized religion… unless you count science as organized religion for the devotionally parched…)

I’m feeling like bringing up a “higher power” was a bad idea.  But too bad.  Because I’m borderline obsessed with the topic and at the end of the day, what else is there to talk about, besides sex.  But come on, even sex is really just a covert attempt to return to our natural state of Orgasmic Oneness.  (Orgasmic Oneness… for all you hard nuts to crack, can you consider using that word to describe something wildly desirable, natural and so much greater than just your piddly egoic self?)

Ahhhhh, my words feel so bound up today.  My mind has been mummified while I slept and dreamed of Suzette and the ever titillating subject of destiny.  Muses?  Where have you fled to today?  You are probably out at the beach, bikini clad, drinking deep of these rare and precious days of summerish sunshine.  That’s what I would be doing if I wasn’t so stinkin’ ambitious and dependant on the comfort of routine and the necessity of self expression.  Well, please forgive me, my muses are away for the day, playing nude, beach volleyball, invisible breasts flouncing as they feverishly lunge for the neon pink ball that plummets over the etheric net.  The etheric net which accidentally traps baby angels, just learning how to fly.  And a few token fairies with startlingly ornate wings, teeming with colors that you never even conceived of.  But I can do it without you guys.  It’ll build character.  It’ll put hair on my chest.

Here’s something that might actually be relevant to you~ Relationships seem to be very strained these days.  I just found out that three married couples I know are divorcing.  That’s not to mention all the relationships I have been watching crumble over the last few months.  Including my own.  Seems like the last year or two, I have been reviewing a lot of the formative experiences that have contributed to shaping the hopelessly human and perfectly flawed creature that I am.  I am.  That is a dangerous thing to declare unconsciously.  I am.  How many times have you said, “I am afraid”, or “I am angry”?  Language.  Be forewarned, it shapes reality.  The only thing that should REALLY follow the words, “I am” is “the magnificent, raw energy of creation”.  The rest is all a lie.  A necessary lie, if you want to get along in this rhythmically twisted fantasy land called life as we know it… but a lie nonetheless.

“I feel afraid/angry/sad/horny”… way more accurate.  But I did not step up to the plate expecting it to be a soap box… it just morphed into one.  Pardon me, I just wanted to get a modest base hit, like the rest of you.

Relationships.  I have been seeing my programs and conditioning way to clearly for any semblance of comfort.  Seeing that I have been relating to Love in a very young way.  I learned that “love” was a survival skill.  A transaction.  You take care of helpless little me and I’ll “love” you.  I have had that subtle filter blindfolding my sacred sight.  What can this person do for me?  Will this man take care of me?  And now that I am taking care of myself (and my man), I feel a deep and recurring disappointment in my relationship.  I find myself often feeling resentful, and wondering what the point of holding on to him is… What is the point of being in a long term, committed relationship?

Saved by the bell.  I just looked out the window and saw two horny house sparrows gettin’ it on right on the telephone wire.  The female, significantly smaller than her mate, bowing her body in a submissive posture, eager to be mounted and pounded by a microscopic sparrow penis. (what an adorable thought)  Then the male leaping into the air and fluttering above her, landing almost gracefully on her back, beating his wings gently as he gives it to her.  She doesn’t put up any sort of fight.  I remember watching the sparrows mate in the breezeways at my elementary school.  I would feel turned on and captivated.  Curious and ashamed.  I tried to be casual, terrified that anybody would catch me in the act of watching nature’s pornography.  Is that weird?  Well… c’est la vie… I am as the Universe created me.

What is the POINT of committed partnership?  Marriage?  Once upon a time, I believed it was to live happily ever after, of course… But at thirty years old, I am finally able to admit that life is NOT a Disney movie, and I am not a wistful princess waiting patiently to be saved and royally fucked by my flawless, hunky soulmate from the Kingdom next door.  I still often act like it, though.  (stay tuned to my blog for inevitable more on this topic… but trust me small bites are the new black)

The last pressing confession is that I often do a little dance in the bathroom, here at café 504.  Dancing.  I feel self conscious about doing it in public, mostly.  Because I think too much when there are other people around.  I judge myself too harshly and the fun is devoured by all the blood thirsty critics who take up residency inside me.  But still, I am a dancer at heart.  And especially when I am hoppppped up on cappuccino and listening to upbeat music… it’s the most natural thing to do when I lock myself in the bathroom, wouldn’t you say?  I look in the mirror and seduce my eager, sassy reflection.  I feel so ALIVE!  And I usually think to myself, “I am a good dancer, I should get over myself and go out dancing once in a while.”

Try it.  I dare you.  On one of those inevitably mundane days.  A little dance behind the benevolently locked bathroom door.  It’ll change your life.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rosy Moon
    Mar 22, 2010 @ 18:45:06

    Grinning on the inside, while feeling betrayed by your lack of follow up on the fairy tale story of you and Sir Eric*. Bittersweet.


  2. cheezaddict
    Mar 23, 2010 @ 20:50:06

    You leave me wanting an answer to that question you asked, what is the point of committed relationship?


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