Thursday, November 12, 2015

Because making a difference actually does mean something even if explaining it is easier said than done.
Because we can do more than just coexist. We can prosper and the greed and the gluttony and the outsourcing can end with a smile instead of a glower.
She said I was being snarky, passive aggressive, cranky and manipulative when nothing could have been further from the truth. When she texted I really was on the toilet with the squirts from something I’d eaten the night before and I’m still feeling crappy today.

Because we make better lovers than fighters and if you need proof just look in the mirror and be careful not to fall in love with your reflection like Narcissus did once upon a time.
Proving that believing in your own press can be more than fatal, it can be both infectious and insatiable like Salted Caramel Bourbon BonBons.
I’d make an example of myself, but what good would that do when I fall through every crack laid out before me like a child’s chalk drawn hopscotch course or the entrails from your favorite flattened roadkill.

Because sometimes just mouthing the words I love you is plenty good enough while other times even a Cheshire grin will not get you through the mirror.
I know I don’t belong and I don’t pride myself on that outsider status, but I’ve also started to understand sweating the small stuff will only you get you five to ten in the house of detention or if you’re even more unlucky nearly fifteen years of feeling stuck with no clue of how to break free and raise yourself from the dead.
I write these words and then if I’m really lucky Mr. Kane will ride in on his bay horse and lay down a riff that will fuse my words together and make this watch tick.

Because going it alone doesn’t make a lick of sense when you have a second pair of hands willing to pitch in and make the trains run on time.
Because “I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now I see.”
Because truth is stranger than fiction and once you have accepted that we can move on and find some peace in the arms of another Manchurian Candidate.

Charles Cicirella

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