The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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Baby, will you eat that thar snack cracker in your special outfit for me, please?

"Tears that fall from eyes... that know why."
They had to come. Today it felt like they just had to come. I have never been so happy for so long. It's like a strain on the system. A sickeningly wonderful, unmedicated strain on the system. I say unmedicated in case you're not aware that I'm not on, nor have I ever been on, any anti-D medication. I haven't even been hitting the caffeine much, except Tuesday, and that's when I felt worst. By worst, I mean least-best. So today, briefly, I cried for joy for the first time in my life.

I feel confident. Does that mean full of myself? Maybe; since I'm not good at handling it yet. But if I make wisecracks, please be sure they're just that. A few people have shown me in the past week just how well they've seen the real me, behind the journal; behind the trenchcoat and fedora; behind the music, if you will. And, no, I wouldn't have all the cool friends I do if I wasn't myself a pretty cool fellow. Yay, go me. Yay, go friends.

"I wasn't going to post about this, but..."
Wait, Dark stooping to justify his journal? Sure, I can post whatever I want here. I usually don't justify, and no, I don't take this as justification. It's self-exploration, but not an apology. I'm not sorry for what I did, and I certainly wouldn't change it, or take back the laughs that it generated. I'm acutely aware that some of you are not doing great right now, and that that will affect your sense of humor. Some of you have always thought my online persona was conceited and full of shit. I know I have; that's how I fashioned it.

"I never talked to God before tonight."
I'm not a nice guy. Or maybe I am. What I try to be is honest, and I know I fail catastrophically pretty often. I also succeed magnificently. I cut through BS like a hot knife through yo mama's adipose-laden gluteus. I say what you're thinking, with any luck, and with the courage you lack to say it. The emperor's got no clothes on, and I'm hucking ice cubes. Fuck your emperor, fuck your Gods, fuck your truth. Fuck everything, at least till I settle down and raise some kids in a respectible trailer park. "White trash? Don't call me that." I'm happy, and it's not because I'm using someone's "love" to justify my existence.

I'm in a very Voodoo Cadillac mood. If I had a car right now, I'd be cruising in it. I'd cruise right across the fucking ocean, because I can. Don't believe me? I'll go motherfucking Thor Heyerdahl on your ass, only much much farther. And with better music.

Baby, you make me wanna walk... like a camel.

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