Empty Picture Frame

And as the summers ending the cool air rush your hard heart away.
You were so condescending,
and this is all that's left
scraping paper to document.
I've packed a change of clothes and it's time to move on.

I often wonder how much I am misunderstood versus how much I misunderstand myself. Perhaps the poor perceptions of me are the ones that are the most truthful. What is it that makes ourselves? How we are perceived, or what we think those perceptions are missing?

Although my behavior makes it clear that I obviously don't like myself very much, perhaps I am mistaken in this. Or more justified than I allow myself to think.

A wrench was thrown into my romantic works a few weeks ago and I'm still trying to sort that out. Add on top of that, the same old romantic bullshit and I really can't tell what's up or down anymore.

Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures

I'm really annoyed with being me right now. I'd try to be someone else, but this damn hair keeps identifying me. Maybe I'll just shave it all off, and if they ask me at work, tell them I have cancer or something. I wouldn't use it to get out of work, but just to have people back off my case for a while. Of course, if I did that, there would be so much bad karma to work off, I'd totally come back as a cockroach.

The way my life kinda is right now, perhaps that's not such a bad thing. What do cockroaches think about?--

"Ummm, I hope I don't get stepped on today..."

Sounds blissfully simplistic. All they do is couch surf, so they don't worry about rent. Every cockroach looks the same, so it doesn't matter which one you fall in love with. In fact, your husband cockroach might have already died and you just think it's the same old one, when really, unbeknownst to you, you've had 5 cockroach husbands already.

I think there might be some delightfully peaceful about being at the bottom of the food chain. And yet, long after we've given up our "supremacy" of the planet, those little roaches will be having an atomic barbeque and laughing at us. If they had the ability to laugh at all. Maybe that's what cockroaches are. People who can't bring themselves to laugh or feel anymore so they develop an exoskeleton and four more legs to run away with.

"It was never just a question of escape. It was also a question of transformation."

--The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay