I’m Just Here to Dance
I reckon I should bang this blog out early today since I don’t plan to be home until far after midnight. I’m going first the gym and then to hear my friend (and Libertarian activist) Adam Kokesh speak at University of Alabama at Birmingham. Then we’ll do cigars and beers (mine non-alcoholic) at a local rooftop pub and then I’m taking myself dancing. I want to find a place where I can be anonymous, dance alone, and sweat for a few hours. I need it.
I went to see Mom today. We made prayer ties together. I’ll take the few she made to prayer ceremony with me in Texas next week and put them in the tree. I hope her prayers are answered in the affirmative. I know she prayed to be well. I cry when I think of it. I have to pull back emotionally from that and remember (as my fellow recovering alcoholic reminded me this week) “she has a higher power too.” So much in me thinks/feels that if something’s not right with Mamma, it’s my fault and my responsibility to fix it. She’s on her path and she doesn’t do it like I want her too. Everything would be great if everyone would just do as I say. When will people ever realize that?
Since I’ve helped to set up the event for my friend to speak tonight, I’ve been asked if I’m a Libertarian. I’m not. I’m not anything anymore. Maybe an anarchist. My job is just to sling shit at what doesn’t work and offer absolutely no solutions as to what might. Actually, I’m probably an Absolute Monarchist with the idea that I, of course, be the King and that I be allowed to chose my successor. Fuck Democracy. It’s mob rule. And if you want to see how that whole “Democratic Republic” thing has worked out [wherein the rights of the minorities (of which I am one) are acknowledged and protected] consider that it is 2015 and queers still can’t even legally wed– one of the most benign rights imaginable. I still will never understand why (some) straight people are threatened by whom I love or don’t. I don’t really give a fuck what they do in their sexual relationships unless they’re hurting children. Hey, wait a minute…! Ah, nevermind. That’s another argument for another blog.
“Experiment in Democracy?” How you figure it’s turned out so far? (Wow. Who’s got some anger issues?)
I miss Spud terribly and it’s not even been longer than I normally would have gone without seeing him. He’s in Atlanta with the next in a long, long succession of surrogate daddies (that was snarky comment number one if you want to keep a tally over the coming weeks.) I’ll cry the tears and rage all I feel like it and say embarrassing things until it’s time to move on to the next person who’s pissed me off. That’s the way I roll. I have absolutely no restraint over tongue and pen. Just ask Adam Nelson MD. (Actually, that’s not true. With regard to Dr. Nelson, I have definitely exercised some restraint of pen, simply for the feeling of superiority and power I have by knowing that everyday he gets to remain a doctor it is because of my mercy and because I allow it. I’m sure the poor bastard thinks he got away with it all on his own but in truth he gets to continue because I say and the only way he’ll ever be truly safe is if I’m dead.) That should probably serve as a warning to any of you who might be considering befriending me (or more). Piss me off and I’ll drag you through the mud publically every time. Eventually someone will kill me. Mother must have said to me a million times, “That mouth of yours is going to get you into bad trouble one day.” My mom, the prophetess! There are worse ways to go. “Vengeance is mine and Jeff’s,” sayeth the Lord. Of course if that takes a while before someone finally hates me enough for running my mouth (or keyboard) to make that happen, I might be pretty goddamn lonely by then, having pissed everyone I know off. I’m already the strongest person I know; soon I’ll be the freest.
Someone once asked me what my greatest fear was. I answered, “To die alone and lonely, an embarrassment to everyone who ever knew me.” Who is freer than the man who has faced his greatest fear? Pretty good, huh?
If you see me out dancing at some obscure club in Birmingham tonight, buy me an ice water. But don’t talk to me. I’m just there to dance.
See y’all tomorrow.
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You’re currently reading “I’m Just Here to Dance,” an entry on Keynotes
- Published:
- May 30, 2015 / 1:42 pm
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