A muse, a muse, I muse

Sometimes, words flow.

Precise.  Unyielding.  Capturing the essence of the mind and the beliefs of the heart.  

Other times, speech fills up space, taking up space, a mess of sounds, sewage clogging the pipes and drains.  Unyielding.

What fantasies do our minds create, for ourselves, for our lives?  Is my fear of being captured and bound by the pen and paper, the sounds and notes which draw me?  Or are my mind and talents nothing, afraid that upon capture I would be deemed unworthy and released, to forever stare longingly at the star which has moved on, tossed away by its gravity.  Do I stay unreachable because the answer may be too painful to hear?

Coward.

I did not know yet that these signs which I ignored were the truths I already knew.

This is a narrow train of thought, a structure I can’t break down

Will I only know where to go when you are gone?

Long ago I lost myself, and now I’m Frankenstein

The compilations of everyone else’s desire and design

A poor imitation and a wretched mask

The glitter and the music, cheap and brass

You see behind my pomp and dance

Just a vacant lot hidden behind the shiny fence

Pussy Power

Why is it that when we tell someone to get tough, or just deal with something, we tell them to "grow some balls", or "grow a pair"?  I understand that the innuendo means they should be a man, but seriously, the last thing I want are two fragile pieces of flesh dangling between my legs. 

When we tell someone they need to toughen up, or just deal with something, we also use the phrase "don't be a pussy".  In my experience, pussies are tough.  I'd like to see a man's balls and penis deal with bleeding out once a month for 30-40 years out of their life.  Also, I understand that it hurts when those balls get kicked, beaten, crushed, etc. but seriously...have you seen a woman give labor?  And let's not forget 9 months carrying a baby plus placenta. 

Ah...Patriarchy. 

This is not just a rant about men.  I don't see women complaining when they're the first ones to be let off a sinking ship, as is tradition.  Nor do they seem to mind when a man pays for their dinner on dates every...single...time. 

Ah...human beans.