Friday, June 22, 2007

 

06.22.07

Hey, yo, Life. How's it going, mang?

Could it hurt you to throw me a bone every once in a while?

I mean, really now.

I've never really had a problem with any one.

But you're really pushing it, homie.

Are you trying to get on my bad side or what?

Do you have some sort of vendetta or beef?

In a previous existence, did I happen to rock you that hard?

No, I'm not complaining.

I'm just saying.

I love the fact that you repeatedley allow me to put myself on a pedestal of esteem, confidence, assurance and tranquility of self, only to have you slowly chip away at it until I fall flat on my ass in bedfuddlement and a state of perplexity.

Why must you tempt and test me?

Why must you make me excercise the process of becoming the Ryan Mose that I know and love, huh?

Where is the love, mo'fruckah?

Where is the love?!

I'm not saying that I'm not grateful.

I've had it pretty good.

But you know, we all have our own struggles, just at different levels, and I've dealt with my share of them all my life.

And with a smile on my face, at that.

Now, I don't know first-hand how it feels to be this close of having to living on the curb.

I've never known what it's like to be addicted to something that's destructive to your own body.

I've never been in a situation where I'm longing for any social contact.

But I have indirect knowledge of what they and other social-psychological conflicts are like and I directly know the effects they have on people and those around them.

My question at the moment is: Why?

Why do I know these things?

How different might things be if I hadn't dealt with those things.

Why do I have within me this immense sense of empathy, the ability to see what counts in a person and the urge to draw an intangible line above people that I want to help them reach?

Why do I care so much about how angry or sad people are?

Why do I always feel like I'm just spitting common sense at kids?

I take that back.

I know.

I understand.

You just keep blowing wind in my face, Life, and it's getting kind of old, yo.

But very rarely has anyone ever gotten the best of me...

and I refuse to let you mold me into the bitter somethings that I've seen you create.

Keep the shots coming.

I've dodged so many of your bullets in the past 20 years.

Where do you think the Wachowski brothers got the idea for the Agents, hmm?

Peace easy, sucka.

Docking out...
-Ryan : I don't even have a metaphor for that

Ryan posted this at 12:52 AM.