Siesta Interrupted

I can feel it in the air, this sense about me, a light whisper on the wind, gentle touch on my being. I can hear it speaking to me in hushed tones, calling my name in a light echo...Earl Earl Earl. I feel the presence of something, it's here, alive tugging at me - I rise from my siesta to find, nothing - nothing but that freaking flickering blue screen of my computer, the hard feel of my desk upon which my head so soundly rested and the irritating continuous buzz from an aged air conditioning unit. Yep, I felt it in the air alright - it was work and it was saying time to get back to the grind. Sigh!

Conversation Inspired

I am not cut from the cloth of fidelity; it seems to run contrary to my very instinct – that primordial ooze coursing through my veins, pre-occupying my thoughts; it would seem my garment is that of iniquity, as the sanctimonious would pontificate.

My thoughts and actions are frowned upon; the pious label it lustful and immoral; a sub-construct of the dogma handed down for generations – blinded, illogical virtue; aimed at control of the masses, galvanizing of thought – singularity; a security blanket for the insecure – uneasy in their own skin, disturbed by their ravenous desires and lecherous thoughts of visceral pleasure.

No, I am not cut from that cloth; and am I to feel shame, unworthy, unclean – hell bound; my virtue questionable, my salaciousness objectionable. Yes, I am inherently lascivious and for this I must dodge stares and loquacious tongues, defend judgment of my moral fiber from the ostensibly sinless; feigning purity or sainthood – be made to some how feel inadequate, weak, undeserving of affection; relegated to solitude and/or ephemeral tryst.

Fuck the righteous, spare me your indignation; your adjudication in the court of misguided morality. Fuck you for making me think that my nature is to be abhorred or viewed as an aberration; some fucking freak of nature – my actions put on display for your entertainment, your water cooler talk, your subject of dinner conversation or alcohol induced drivel.

Fuck you, fuck you twice. I can make the choice to be pretentious, self-loathing, to deny me, my very being – but fuck it; I choose to surrender to my nature – be it whatever the fuck it is… so yes fuck you very much – I am not cut from the cloth of fidelity. But unlike you and your ilk – I will respect your view of morality, after all it is your right, purposeful – I bring meaning to your purpose; my nature is a necessary evil to vindicate your conviction of virtue and righteousness.

Hi5 pics - down memory lane