Death by Conceit

It's amazing how conceited I am. A common ailment of many I know; however, all the people I know have just cause to suffer from such an illness. To be better than ones station in life becomes a necessity, or so they say. The paying your dues part of the successful life. But the conceit must be overcome to jump over the obstacle in between, that object that prohibits the transition from one to the other, from nobody to somebody. That "thing" one must hurdle differs from one person to another, but the action appears one and the same.

Opportunity doesn't knock, it enters blowing everything in it's path, but the placebo opportunity taps lightly on the door fooling you into thinking it's the real thing. There are few things that I know for certain in life, but this I know to be true: when things aren't working out it seems so hard, impossible even, conversely when things work out it is so easy. But we force things, make things fit that shouldn't and in the end it breaks apart into a million pieces when in the beginning it consisted of two.

Luck, I'm not sure if it is a mirage. How do you earn luck? Why do we mistake things for luck? Luck is when things happen that are not "our due." So what determines what is due to us and what is not. Do you deposit some money in the luck bank and then merely cash it in? Who really knows what the exchange rate is? Bottom line: how do we know what we deserve?

What is the unit of measurement for what one is owed? Afterall, give an inch and they'll take a mile. Do we take more than what is allot to us? I feel the world owes me, what I'm not always sure. Maybe I try to take to much from the world so in turn it gives me nothing. You can't want anything too much. But I haven't wanted anything in as long as I remember. I've told myself there are things that I want, but I am never that disappointed when I don't get them. In fact, most of the times I am relieved.

Is relief a sign of weakness or strength? I don't fight for things. I long for things, but the things I long for I try to deny myself. Pretend I don't want the things I really want and hide behind things I never wanted. But to want means I know the answers, of this I'm sure I don't.

Truth be told, I don't know what I deserve, but I know I deserve better. There is a motto to live by. But my conceit feeds me. With so many things trying to pull you down the balloon of conceit keeps me afloat even if it is merely full of hot air.

So here I sit on my high horse, nose pointed high to the clouds. Dark clouds will one day yield to one shaped like a dollar sign. Conceit can be a powerful thing, it brings some crashing down and comforts others moving up. For me conceit is my Scarlett Ohara protective mechanism allowing me to believe that: "Afterall, tomorrow is another day."

Burnt out or Burnt up? Is there a difference?

So rundown can't do anything other than focus on that fact. My thoughts run on one track, some lapping others while others crawl to go full circle. But no matter the speed or the distance the perspective never changes. The grass was once green inside the perimeter of the rubbery surface, but the sun beats down on the area left unprotected by the absence of trees. I think one of the sprinkler heads broke, that must be it, otherwise the turf would be lush and kelly green. If I have to look at the same surroundings everyday then I want them to be thriving; living and not dying. But the sun keeps beating down, but the grass doesn't have SPF to protect it, it can't photosynthesize fast enough. The grass browns and I look down to see I'm sunburnt. This one track mind ages me from all the sun damage. I need cataracts from squinting my eyes constantly. Brainwaves don't like running they like surfing so my mind only finds solace on the web. Oh what a tangled web we weave...

Must force my thoughts to ride the rails. If I have to be on one track at least let if be a train track that way I can travel linearly, all these circles make my head spin. All the running makes me collapse, I need to sit down for a while, maybe look out as the sunflower fields pass by. Need to find a new relativity. Everything looks the same to me now. It's been a year isn't it time for change, change of scenery at least, at the very least.

Who are you? You intrigue me so. I know you are wearing a mask, I suppose the tie shields the really you from escaping. Talk to me, say something. I can hear you screaming inside, the screech drives me mad. Let it out, let me in. Curiosity kills this cat. There must be more to you. You're trapped like the butterflies in my stomach. I thought I saw you looking, did you look, could you see? I'm wearing a disguise as well. Do you think there might be a possibility that we could both have x-ray vision? If only I could see you and you could see me. Crazy talk, I know, but could it be? Talk to me, say something. Let your voice kill the noise in my head. I'm projecting, I always do that. Setting myself up for failure. The butterflies emerge from the cocoons as regrets fluttering turns into a sinking feeling. But I digress.

If I close my lids I can feel your eyes; glancing, glaring, and one can only hope, starring. This character does not exist but within the realm of my imagination. Yet, you're real merely my portrayal becomes false. If only, if only. Why can't you be everything I never knew I always wanted? But mostly, and for the first time in my life, I want to know the truth. I want the fluttering to be justified, I need the regrets to be nullified. Talk to me. Stop speaking volumes in the silence. Tension vibrates becoming only a sound that dogs can hear. Don't use the knife to cut my heart out, I can do it on my own with a spoon.

Delusion results from the burn. Burnt, spent, exhausted. How can one follow their heart when the brain sprints ahead to set the pace. Where am I? I can't even tell one from the other, I just get up and go. Going and going, my battery not lasting as long as the energizer bunny. But then what is the thumping sound if not the pounding of the drum? Idle fantasy becomes the only fuel that keeps my motor running. Always running. I should really get some fertilizer for the grass or at least replace it with sod, heck even astroturf would do.

Enemy by circumstance

Things in opposition can be a result of merely being the opposite; I guess that is where the word derives. The poor hate the rich simple because they are rich, the single hate the couples because they are couples, and unhappy hate the happy because they are happy. It's nothing personal, it's just circumstance. If you are void of something you covet then you despise those who obtain it, but if you are devoid of something you still appreciate it.

If you have something and then lose it you might miss it but you won't hate those who have it because you can relate having once been there. All of this has come about because today a client came in to deposit a check and made a joke about how rich he is making everyone and this obviously hit a nerve with the person taking the check because her reply was, "you make the company rich." It was the tone, the resentment hidden behind an unconvincing smile. Some days even the best actor has to break character.

The thing is the man was honestly trying to be funny and not condescending but sometimes if the scar is there and poking will open the wound. So even though he did nothing wrong, he could be a great person but the sole fact that he has money is enough to make him an enemy. That's how religious or cultural conflicts are. I suppose this is why I don't understand war, how one becomes forced to hate someone based on one thing.

So, all it takes is one thing to negate everything else. That's crazy. Every person has so many different facets no one ever having every single on in common. Then are we destined to hate. Maybe when opposites attract it is because the hate exists within oneself, i.e. if I hate the fact that I snore I will like someone who doesn't.

Two halves in a whole, this idea we cling to about completeness, can only that which is the exact opposite complete you. In science the answer is yes. But in life, in human relationships, complimentary forces rather than opposing forces seem to coexist. So is it the constant gravitational pull that makes us want to be pulled in the opposite direction, as if to counteract it?

This weekend there is a huge lotto jackpot, who doesn't want to win the lotto. I want to win the lotto for the same reasons everyone else does. But today I thought of another reason, I want to win the jackpot so I can finally tell everyone what I truly think of them, I don't mean this in a vicious way rather that in order to "not burn bridges" we hold our tongues when we shouldn't simply because we are intimidated. But if I don't have to worry about paying the rent then so help me I will fight for all injustices. Now, I know this is what one should always do, but in our society sometimes morals and a sense of what is right is a luxury of those who don't have rent due on the first of the month. I know that is a horrible thing to say, and in the case of gross injustices I would stand up, but in the day to day infractions one must grin and bare it. I wouldn't just tell of the people who have wronged me but also for the people who continue to wrong others, others who have to pay rent.

There is a thin line between jealousy and hate one that goes crossed every minute of everyday. It's ok to hate the circumstance but why hate the people? I have enough of an enemy within myself, I don't need any more. I try to remind myself that everyone has problems, problems change with circumstance but no one is void of them.