Hi-ho and hello,
Ever remember an uncle, dad step dad I don’t know, maybe a grandfather even holding a straw and asking you to flick it with your thumb. And of course mind you that straw isn’t just a standing single straw it’s tightly twisted over and over from both end points until there is that massive pocket of air in the tube with no release from either end. And then you have that uncle, father, Grandpa or maybe an auntie who thought it was fun holding it at your face telling you to flick it as hard as you can. Do you remember that?
And they would be there crouching down at your face, hands holding this precariously dealt with straw, and if you’re like me, you’re looking at them with this “what the f*** am I supposed to do?” face.
Sorry Dad, grandpa, uncle, likely uncles plural on that one. There were so many times where looking at this odd straw object seeing their faces of giddy and reveling expectation for the loudest onomatopoeia available without using technology, this apparently was too much to bear.
And sadly to my dismay and apparently my weak ass freaking fingernails, that mother f****** straw never f****** snapped, my dad would wrap up another straw pointed at another brother a cousin or an uncle next to me whether it was a picnic or family gathering and POW. Apparently I was not capable of making such astounding cacophony of sound for those very slight moments of Life Time.
I don’t know why but there’s a space between the sense I have, those around me, what I think they might think, and the actual reality. It leaves me thinking I’m a fool, or behind, missing the joke. Maybe I am, sometimes I miss what’s right there, maybe it’s due to being bored, tired, or both. But honestly I just kind of like watching life work. And yeah there will be an underlying note of humor or a silver lining of revelations that no one but me and whoever is watching the thoughts within get it but again it’s something personal. It ends up being something that I find funny whether it’s about the humor of one thing connected to another, the dichotomy of b******* and other nonsense, I just like observing apparently and when expected to react I’ve found that I either give the “I don’t know” as I like to state in my journaling, or I panic and sometimes, especially at a younger stupid age, my panicking would become more idiocy fueled.
Anyhow the day has been long, disappointing, and I question whether what I say is me feeding myself a line. Or like dreams, it’s my way of reigning in the chaos. That’s why I close with the Latin each journal, it means “know thy self“. This is me trying to figure that out.
C’est la vie
Good night and good morning, good morning and good night.
Nosce Te Ipsum
Dream Dark Stories 