6:30 am
The chippy irritation from my bedside table
forces an unconscious groan.
Starting from my curled toes
swelling
in tidal wave tremors
to my twitching torso.
Manifesting in indiscriminate slapping of
lamps
reading material
and finally
the clock…
If I were honest in my disdain
I wouldn't turn on the lights
nor spend a minute
looking for acceptable clothes
to appease civilization
…But I do.
People expect to see Me today, wrapped
in preconceived ideologies.
Some societal, some induced.
Portions I have enabled - even propagated
with detailed grooming rituals,
ongoing hair color treatments,
and anti-aging skin
regiments.
Which is a lie
Because I still see it… everyone does.
Minimizing at best.
But "anti"?
Not.
I aquiese to the
expectations.
Because this
carefully crafted,
death defying carcus
is the only thing
Most of them will ever know...
The painted
coiffed
decorated
Me
and my persona,
coated in Teflon,
sculpted to situations,
an everyday
chameleon
who will never let one title
stick to the
hot rock climate
I call life.
It has been said
you are who you are
when no one is
watching.
But my village watches.
Through most of this life,
in and out of my glass house,
I am
in my universe
a spectator sport
with expectant fans.
Where the others hope
the receiver makes the catch,
the singer hits the high note,
the magician disappears…
And I enter.
Stage right.
With my highlighted spiky hair
in perfect
chaotic
order.
(I let go for a very short season.
The silence about it
spoke of the
disapproval.
Yawn.
So what?
I was grieving.
I got better and gave in
to recycling...
Hi honey, I'm home...with old Me.)
The "real" crowd touts
transparency
as a measuring stick of
unfettered character.
While border-free openness
and lack of secrets
may only make one a bad confidante…
not a great person.
The diversity of Me is
untainted by opinion.
Purity needs no approval, nor apology.
I am intentionally
loud and quiet,
public and private
seen and unseen
understood… and not.
No lesser
or greater.
Equally
Me.
I am all that you see.
Which, by the way,
is the better part of
Me.
They drive by daily.
Casting stares
on the angular structures
in the city.
Never doubting
viability.
Even though there were plans,
predestination,
packaging,
posturing.
Yet a man... a man
with these four p's
is branded of
superficiality,
rigidity,
dishonesty.
People...
Ignorance is bliss
but you are WAY too happy
criticizing contingency
while mocking
less than
perfect
charisma.
Disgusting.
So lost
in your lack of personal
direction
that you prefer
everyone else
burn their maps…
I have seen my map.
I have planned the route.
I have chosen the vehicle.
The person I want you
to see is who
I am.
Because that is all you will
ever know.
And I like him
or I wouldn't be him.
Don't ask for my transparency.
You couldn't deal with
the guts of
it all.
That's okay too - you shouldn't have to.
We all are who we are
in the moment our lives
intersect.
Some murderers are loving fathers.
Both are true.
So be sure of this
one thing.
I do my hair for
me.
I'm glad that you like it.