Saturday, June 21, 2008

Blood Type

Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy. -William Butler Yeats
I was dwelling on the fact that my friend called me a thug... Yes, that's right, my friend.
I suppose I am, to a certain extent. I can be rather blunt at times... Most times. My personality can, on occasion, make a sledgehammer look like a precision surgical instroment.
I've been going through a rough patch recently... You'd have to be fairly dense not to have noticed it.
Maybe this is my natural state... This is what I am. My life is long stretches of unhappiness, or at the very least drudgery, broken up by brief times of contentment.
Allow me to quote a few of my friends and aquaintances:
"Honey, you are the darkness"
"You are more of a thug"
"You make your own situations, it's dark, but it's comfortable"
"You're never really happy unless you're miserable"
I suppose I have to accept it. I am what I have made myself into. I have this little black cloud of my own design, and I wear it like some dark crown. I'm not down and hurt... I'm reverting to type.

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3 Comments:

At June 21, 2008 6:29 PM, Anonymous JRB said...

Comforting to see you're getting back to "normal".......

 
At June 22, 2008 7:19 PM, Blogger M. said...

Thug.

 
At June 23, 2008 1:21 PM, Blogger Omnibus Driver said...

Phooey on that nonsense. I like you just the way you are.

 

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