Ready, Willing & Able

Rebel1

I felt safe inside my bubble
Until I turned into a rebel

Now I accept the unacceptable
And don’t respect the respectable

My new flag is colorful
And my briefs are edible

My dreams are probable
And my fantasies plausible

My shoulders are huggable
And my lips are kissable

My thighs are touchable
And my excitement is visible

My ideas are unconventional
And my secrets discoverable

My hunger is insatiable
And my thirst unquenchable

If I find you irresistible
Oh man, you’re in trouble

Man Crush

HD2

This morning I had a strange dream.

I was walking alone in the desert, thinking about my girlfriend, the problems we have and how to solve them.

Then this guy riding a bike came along.  He stopped beside me and removed his helmet.  I recognized him from a previous dream.  His name was Harley Davidson.  He smiled and said:

I know you like me
I know you do
That’s why whenever I come around
She’s all over you

I know you want me
It’s easy to see
And in the back of your mind
I know you should be on with me

Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me
Don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me
Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?

Don’t you wish your girlfriend was raw like me
Don’t you wish your girlfriend was fun like me
Don’t cha?
Don’t cha?

Fight the feeling
Leave it alone
Because if it ain’t love
It just ain’t enough to leave a happy home

Let’s keep it friendly
You have to play fair
See I don’t care
But I know she ain’t one to share

I know she loves you
I understand
I’d probably be just as crazy about you
If you were my own man

Maybe next lifetime
Possibly
Until then, old friend
Your secret is safe with me

– – – – – – – – – –
Lyrics by The Pussycat Dolls – Don’t Cha ft. Busta Rhymes
Picture from Shania Twain – That Don’t Impress Me Much

Thickheaded Control-Freak

A wrongdoer manipulated my life, like an abuser experimenting with a youngster.  He turned me into a wild animal.  I’m the product of someone’s playful mischief.  Aren’t we all?

My body is a defective vessel — a vehicle which will expire.  Something or hopefully someone will come out of it alive.  A different dummy shall step out of it and face a new reality.

But right now, what am I to do?  Be gloomy?  How can I not be.  I’m this weird creature, controlled by even weirder ones.  There is no way out.  Or is there?  I must wait for the metamorphosis to occur.  I wish the process would accelerate.  Is suicide the answer?

Is killing my body unnatural?  So many do it.  Has it become the norm yet?  We all do it gradually.  Life does it naturally.  I can make myself sick physically.  It’s easy.  But I stubbornly keep my body healthy.  Why?  Maybe because it hurts when I don’t.

But now my soul hurts.  Is it better to have a hurting spirit?  Having to drag this body along is painful.  And when it dies, what kind of body will I be given?  Who will decide?  Maybe I will be able to choose.  My angel said he could shapeshift.  Wow!

I can’t wait to have a shapeshifting body.

My dominant plays god.  That’s what he does.  My evolution would happen naturally if only he would let it be.  But he wants to play divinity.  Prick.  And I’m stuck under his authority for a while.  Like I have a say in what I let my children do.  But kids grow, and sooner or later we lose our authority over them.  It’s a liberation process.  How long will this go on regarding this Daemon?  Does it depend on me or on him?

I am enduring but not so patient.  Let go of me, bitch!

So I ended up here, in this environment.  But still, he has a hold on me.

Let go already, thickheaded control-freak!

Deadlocked

Hell1

I lost my liberty
Who will rescue me
I wonder what will happen
If any door will open

This day is going to be
The same as yesterday
Unbearable melancholy
Unless I find a key

There’s a reason why I’m here
“It’s your fault” he told me
I wanted to be free
So he locked me in here

At first I had no idea
What was going on
I thought something
Had gone wrong

Now he’s watching me
Wondering what I’ll do
I can’t even see him
He blindfolded me

I know he’s near me
I hear him inhaling
I hear him exhaling
He won’t talk to me

It excites him to watch me
I feel naked and empty
I think my vulnerability
Is what he wants to see

He enjoys it
He delights in it
He touches it
I don’t get it

He won’t whip me
He protects me
He comes closer
Then he kisses me

I shiver and wonder
Does he heal or make me suffer
He could hurt me badly
But he seems to know better

I wish he would slay me
But it is very unlikely
I need to figure out
What love is all about

My Secret

secret

I have a secret.  I’m not going to tell you what it is because…  it’s a secret.  But if you have been reading my blog, you probably have figured it out already.

I’m in love.  But I’m not going to tell you who the person is because…  it’s a secret.  But if you have been reading my blog, you probably know already.

I’m ashamed.  But I’m not going to tell you why because…  it’s a secret.  But if you have been reading my blog, you probably have an idea.

I’m not suggesting that you should read my blog.  I don’t want anyone to read my blog because…  it’s private.  But if you have been reading it, no damage was done.

No reader really knows who I am.  I have not given anyone I know access to my blog.  I could be your neighbor.  I could be a family member.  I could be your spouse.

I have a few secrets.  This blog is one of them.  It’s my private world, where I come to play with my thoughts, my emotions and my desires.  I play with people and I play with gods.  I play with mortals and I play with immortals.  I play with you.

I’m in love.  But I’m not going to tell you who he is because…  you don’t know her.  Unless you know yourself.  Then you know already.

I’m ashamed, because of my…  exposure.

I don’t know if I shall ever be willing to give up this fear within.  This fear of what would happen if they’d ever find out my secret.

Are secrets meant to remain hidden?  Apparently not.  Is this fear a friend, or is it an enemy?  Does fear come to haunt me or is it there to protect me?  I can’t tell you because I don’t know.

Meanwhile I will probably keep on writing, to relieve myself of this burden I carry.  A secret burden which is, paradoxically, light.  A load that opens up freedom within me.

Rock This Marriage

I did something unusual two months ago. I went ahead and rented myself an apartment.

My wife thought I was planning a divorce but no, this was not my plan. I don’t want a divorce, I don’t even want to separate, I just want my own place.

It turns out that my wife doesn’t want a divorce either, and now she is happy that I got my own place. At first she was shaken a bit and didn’t know what to think, but as the weeks went by she got used to the idea, and today she is glad and says that we should have done this a long time ago.

So why stay married?

There are many reasons why we both want to remain married:
– the children (we have two aged 13 and 11)
– no interest in getting romantically involved with anyone else
– material and financial benefits
– our friendship

I took the risk. I knew it would shake things up but wasn’t sure how she would react. I expected the worst but hoped for the best.

The logic I used was quite simple, really. I thought: “She spends so much money buying useless things for herself, why should I not spend the same amount for something useful that might actually make us happier?”

I wanted my own apartment more than anything, plain and simple. Some people have a main residence as well as a lakeside cottage. Why could we not have a main residence plus an apartment within the same city?

“Happily married couples don’t do this,” some say.
“Well I honestly think that they should,” I reply.

Maybe long-term marriages would be happier if couples would stop forcing themselves to live under the same roof 24/7.

We are, first and foremost, individuals. I think that the phrase “and the two shall become one” is bullshit. Two people never become one except in fairy tales.

This move, along with some other minor financial adjustments, has solved all of our marital problems. Now our marriage rocks.

Blood Money

blood-money

Why did they make society so complicated?

Ah! for money.

I see…

Money gives them the illusion of power.  It makes them believe that they control everything.  They see only superficially, and they think:

“The innocent belong to us.
We own them all.
We can make them do whatever we want.
We can purchase their land and their activity.
We can even buy their fidelity.
We give them a little and make them crave for more.
We make them believe how wonderful life would be if they had more money.
They must want more, that way we can make them do whatever we want.
The innocent will do anything for it,
even things they don’t want to do,
even kill each other.
We need to keep them busy.
We need to keep them worried.
So that they won’t have to time to stop and think.
Their desire for more money must override all other thought.
They will never realize what is happening.
How stupid they are.
We have the power!”

Wake up, brothers and sisters.  They don’t own us.  And we don’t need their blood money.

Playing With Fire

Elementals1

When I was young, I didn’t know anything.  I looked at the world and didn’t know how to interpret it.  “What is this and what is that?”  I asked.  My parents told me what they knew — what they were told.

When I was 5 years old, my parents entrusted me in the hands of a man who was tall and intelligent.  They had no choice.  The law dictated it.  This old man’s job was to tell me how to interpret the world.  His name was Mr. Noitacube.

On the appointed day, I hesitantly went to his dwelling, a large rectangular building.  When he saw me, he told me to sit down, keep quiet and listen:  “This means this!”  he told me.  “This means that!”  he reiterated.  “Repeat after me!”

He seemed a bit angry.  “If you don’t answer properly, you will not pass.  If you don’t pass, you will not advance.  If you don’t advance, everyone will laugh at you.  Your parents will not be happy.  You will be miserable.  You will be rejected.  You will be a failure.  So repeat after me and give me the right answer!  I can give you points.  I can give you a score.  The higher the score, the greater you will be.  It will give you honor, and eventually money.”

I listened to him.  I was afraid.  I repeated after him, everything he said.  It was not pleasant, and believe it or not, this went on for 13 years.

The day I was allowed to leave the rectangular building, with a score card in hand, I was so happy and thought I was free.  After that I grew up, I became older, my awareness expanded, I became bolder.

I did receive a certain amount of honor and a certain amount of money, but something was missing.  I wasn’t really happy and I didn’t feel free.

I thought about Mr. Noitacube and everything he had told me.  Something was wrong with the way he had instructed me.  He never taught me how to interpret the world myself.  All he did was give me his interpretation.  His version, this one mental representation, had become my sole perception of reality.  Why was I never allowed to see things my own way?

I am not a child anymore.  I think I’m as intelligent as he was.  What would be my interpretation of the world if I had never been entrusted in the hands of Mr. Noitacube?

“Daemon, you are not a loser, you have power and you are allowed to play with fire.  Forget everything Mr. Noitacube taught you.  Reinterpret everything from scratch, based on your own experience and research.  It will be hard work but it will also be highly rewarding.  Warning:  If you play with fire, expect to be fired.  You will be discharged, dismissed and criticized.  You will be removed, terminated and forced out.  You will be sacked, driven out and chased away.  You will be attacked, blasted and shot.

But this fire will also inflame you in a positive way.  It will enkindle you, stir you and passionate you.  It will provoke you, set you ablaze and raise you.  It will fuel you, charge you and recreate you.  It will change you, transmute you and eventually, set you free.  And this, my son, will make you…  everlastingly happy.”

Freedom Inside

Freedom

Where’s the freedom?

Most people spend their lives looking for love.  I spent my life looking for freedom.  Love too, but freedom was always first.  Love was easier to find than freedom, so I settled for love.  I thought I might find freedom in love.  Bad love took away the little freedom I had.

I hate love, in a way.  Love is a freedom sucker.  Or maybe it’s marriage…

Marriage promised me love but it didn’t deliver.  All my attempts at love scalded me.  Eventually both the motivation and ability to love were lost. And so was freedom.

Today I am stuck at home with three kids and three cats.  Just like yesterday and the day before.  I am blessed.  That’s what they say here:  “You have beautiful kids, you are blessed!”

Indeed, I am “blesse-d”.  The word blesse in French means hurt, injured, wounded, offended.  (My first language is French by the way).  So I don’t mind being told that I am blessed.  I just smile, nod and reply:  “Yes indeed, I am so blesse-d, you have no idea.”

I got sidetracked.  I was talking about freedom.  So, yeah:

Where’s the freedom?

There is very little freedom left in this world.  We are free to obey and free to choose what kind of slave we wish to be… to serve society.  Free to pay taxes, free to vote for assholes, free to buy all the useless junk we want.  Vive la liberté!

I can’t just run outside, jump and dance, run and fly freely like the animals do.  I’d be dead within a week.  Humans are so fragile.  Seems like we were never meant to be free on the outside.

So where’s the freedom?

What If

What if I am not mentally sick after all?
What if it’s my environment that is crazy?

From the moment I was born, I was forced to:

drink this drink
eat this food
dress like this
shit like that
sleep at this time
get up now
listen to this parent
kiss this grandparent
learn this language
walk in a straight line
go to school
read this book
conform to this
abide to that
believe this bullshit
respect the authorities
obey the laws
suck this
lick that
play here
work there
buy this
sell that
vote for this
reject that
live here
die there

The recipe for happiness
Had been set up for me
Years before I was even born
Decades before my parents were born

And now they tell me
That if I’m not happy
It’s because I’m sick
And all I have to do
Is swallow these meds

This world is perfect
Do not question it
Everything was GIVEN to you
You should be thankful

Mankind has evolved
We used to be dumb animals
Now we are intelligent and civilized
The greatest species on the planet

You are FREE
You live in a free country
You are lucky
You are blessed

Thank your God
Thank your government
Thank the experts
Thank your obedient parents

You are free to choose
What kind of slave you want to be
Get a job or better yet a career
Serve this society
Give your energy
Give your life
Give your money

Everything you need can be found at Walmart
Everything you need to know is on your TV
With the Internet you can find friends
With this subscription you can find your soulmate

If you marry you will be loved
If you have children you will feel complete
If you buy a house you will be warm
If you buy insurance you will be protected

You have no reason to be sad
No reason to be anxious
No reason to be confused
No reason to ask questions

Everything has been set up for you
For your own good
Set up for you
Set up

THIS IS A SET UP
I was set up

What if I am not mentally sick after all?
What if I have been forced to adapt to a crazy environment?
And I can’t, I just can’t, because
I was never meant to live like this

I want to leave
Where’s the exit
This planet sucks
I want to get off
I never signed up for this
I trusted you and you deceived me
I asked for truth and you gave me lies
I expected freedom and you enslaved me

If I resist you will kick me
If I say no you will throw me in jail
If I refuse you will take all I have
If I retaliate you will kill me

Stupid society
I hate you
Because you hated me first
None of this is my fault

I could go on forever
This poem has no end
Every day the same thing
Every week the same routine

I’m so fed up
I had enough
I’m going to find a tree
A nice solid branch
A spot to hang myself
I’ll wrap myself up
Inside a protective shell
A sort of cocoon
Where no one can touch me
And I’m going to wait
I’m not going to move
I’m never coming out
Not until you change
And if you can’t
Then I will
And when I come out
I will be unrecognizable
I will be beautiful
I will be free
I will be happy
Because I will leave you
Stupid society
Cruel world
I know my destiny

The End