Bullshit and Parachutes

Unfinished business. That smug way of behaving really gets on my nerves. I know I haven't really ever voiced my anger and so it goes unsaid every time. It builds and builds but I don't care enough to really air it, because it would require so much effort and unless I see him it's out of my mind. But every time I do it is a subtle annoying presence between us. I just resent the way he presents himself as a wise guy with the right answer to things, while in reality he doesn't have a fucking clue. Today he made up a poem on the spot and it was about how we all wear masks and why do we do that. At the end of the poem I suggested it might be fear. The response was fierce: well, that s certainly NOT the answer. mmm. interesting I thought. What a passionate response to a simple remark. As soon as he said those words I  felt intense heat come into my chest. I wanted to answer : how could you possibly talk about masks, assuming everyone is wearing one and hiding parts of themselves when it's you who is doing it, you ! And you play big coach, big man who can guide others but you are unable to communicate simple stuff that a decent man would go for. I hate this business of pretending everything is all right,  leaving things unsaid when you can just be clear get over it.  I can deal with the truth mate, I just hate bullshit is all. But I get it. Maybe you just cannot be bothered with me, like I can't with you. It's sad really, but maybe it's the truth.

On other news: Last night I dreamed I was on a parachute with my father and mother. We set off from the top of a mountain over a canyon and just descended all the way down to a nice german cafe in the middle of nowhere. There was harmony everywhere and we were happy.

I guess for every downer there's an upper. 

x

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