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{i hate you, mostly} celeste la vie I hate everyone. I despise humanity in a way that makes me daydream of somehow acquiring heavy artillery and firing indiscriminately into the beige from the sunroof of a speeding car. To me this sounds like a beautiful afternoon activity - the sun on my face, the wind in my hair, and a wake of destruction unfurling behind me like the color guard of hell. I have a few other daydream scenarios, my favorite is what I would wish for if my fairy god genie fish popped out of my asshole and granted me three wishes. You should try this one; it’s way more fun that the what-I-should-have-said-as-a-witty-reply daydream. So, top of MY list is the death finger. I would wish for the power to simply point at anyone (even at an image of them, fuck yeah they could just be on TV!) and whisper how I’d like them to keel over AND IT WOULD WORK! I’d be the perfect assassin; no discernable weapon and no obvious wound – my target would die slowly of split ends and stinkfoot. I’d use the other two wishes to know all languages fluently and to be a master of all trades. I’m not sure what I’d hope to achieve though. Maybe I feel like I should at least have a conversation before I point the death finger at someone and then stick around to build a really beautiful coffin? I dunno. Another daydream is one in which I become a more conventional (cinematic) assassin. I’m doing tai chi in my yard in the early morning and a supersecret agent from a branch of the shadow government that doesn’t “exist” sees me and whisks me away on account of my obvious badassness and gives me a pile of money and guns and the occasional assignment that always goes awry and I have to save my ass with multiple explosions and heavy collateral damage. Again with the explosions, big, beautiful, fiery explosions that warm my heart. These are really and seriously the places my mind goes when idle. Why? I’m pretty sure that other people daydream about what kind of puppy to get or if the car is due for an oil change. Possibly what to wear for the impending date. Me? I’m the girl that you sat next to on the bus that could be reading or knitting but is instead quietly plotting the annihilation of the human race. I’m usually so engrossed that you have to ask twice if I would pull the cord for the next stop for you. Don’t give me the hairy eyeball, I’m knee deep in entrails and eyeballs over here and I will not hesitate to give you the death finger. Beautiful things happen too. One night I was waiting for the train and noticed something that appeared to be a neon sign for a new bar or something. It was a heart made of red light that slowly appeared, was wrapped in a banner of yellow light, was stabbed by a white light dagger and dripped red light blood down out of sight. It was a rainy and blade runner night and it was just about the best thing I could have hoped to see. It turns out that the thing is a sculpture garnishing the MCA building but it’s still fucking cool… from far away, in the freezing rain. Ok maybe I had hypothermia. What I mean to say is that life can surprise you in the moments of connection and unexpected beauty that no amount of planning can achieve. Like when I ran down to the pit at the Sepultura show and the biggest dude I’d ever seen saw me coming and opened his arms and I leapt at him and he threw me in the air and I crowd surfed for an unbelievably long time. This may sound like the most bizarre example of human unity but if you have ever been supported but the hands of hundreds of strangers bouncing on waves of the most primal music available, you know that there is nothing finer. Then I fell off the front of the crowd into that space in front of the stage that they fill with bouncer/thugs and THEY high-fived me. Maybe a beautiful moment can be something simple (less likely to involve blood anyway) like when you ask, “how are ya?” in that conversational reflex but someone answers in a real way with a lucid thought in a complete sentence that makes your eyes pop out. Then you get to say something real back, something that you mean. For that minute of conversation you are two real human hearts and minds having a conversation. It doesn’t matter, might even be better, if you never see that person again. That was a perfect moment. Don’t go trolling the fucking Missed Connections on Craig’s list dammit! Just let it be. My point is that these diamond moments don’t happen enough for me think that they are the point of existence. Why is it that these moments are so few? I bet there are several of you right at this moment blaming me, the fault is mine right? I simply have to leave the house ready to RECEIVE the beauty that is OUT there waiting to be noticed! You think I have to have to have an open mind, an open spirit! Right?! You are so fucking wrong. We can’t all wander around all the time like raw nerves! Infrastructure would crumble, planes would fall out of the sky, and the children would go untended! Chaos, I tell you, it would be CHAOS! There are people that behave this way, we call them crazy. They are in the streets fighting with demons seen and unseen, flailing, unfashionable and smelling of cheese. That’s really what happens when you open up. You see the beautiful and the hellish in equal measures. All of you superpositive, embrace the joy, send love into the universe, everything is perfect assholes are delusional. You willfully block out HALF of everything. You can take all the yoga classes you want but you will never wash the stink of blood and guts and human suffering off! Why would you choose to be less than a whole human anyway? I have no idea where the thought that the human spirit is at its core nothing but pure love and kindness comes from. We are lucky to have love and kindness as a part of our psyche but for fucks sake, why deny the predatory impulse? Are we embarrassed by the sheer power of the will to survive? It is as unkind as it is glorious. This is why I daydream of guns instead of gumdrops. This is why I think of a mosh pit as a comforting place. I see it all, embrace it all and I’m sorry if I’m just as likely to punch you in the face as to kiss you. |
