I'm not a proud man. I consider myself just an everyday schmo with a slightly twisted perspective and a middle toe unusually longer than the rest of the toes onboth feet. Oh yeah, I also am a bit of a visionary with a penchant for being quite the procrastinator.
Yet, despite my procrastinating tenedncies, I think I need to make a few things clear to you, the reader. These things are quite obvious to some, horrendous to others and worthy of judgement to eternal damnation to a few. Yet, here I am. Fingers pecking away... one broken and deformed, the other a leader, two-finger typing away at 2:39 in the morning with yet another thought that has crossed my mind and will remain there unless I dismiss it upon the world.
Know what? I have a few things that need to be said, expressed, shouted and verbalized to those who know me and those who don't. Some know me as Jeff. Some know me as Jeffrey, son, husband, brother, *ahem" father, bartender, asshole, loudmouth, .... whatever. Call me what you will. I don't care. I really don't care at all. But, if you must call me a word, call me 'you'. Because 'you' is what I am. 'You' this... 'You' that.... I'm just 'you. Nothing more, nothing less.
I'm not an 'I' because 'I' would suggest I'm better in some way that 'you'. I'm just 'you'. Like it or not.
I say things that piss people off. You will think before doing that type thing.
I consider myself one of you. You wouldn't dare dream of that.
I dream big, fail often and admit my failures. You would rather die than admit failure.
I like hotel sex. Okay, so do you.
I make mistakes seemingly every moment of every day. In thought, action and speech. You would never admit to such a thing, would you, you?
I can never realize my potential but you.... you... you do everything right to make your potential a reality. Don't you?
I'm you, right? Just call me 'You'. Because I fail. Because I can never be who 'You' are supposed to be. Because 'You' is a misnomer and is nothing more than a title given to another who isn't 'me'.
But 'we' .... we all like hotel sex. Yes. Yes, 'We' do.
'You' had better damed believe it.
YOU DA MAN!ReplyDelete
You might like hotel sex, but you can't deliver!!!!ReplyDelete
Ha! You seem to have missed the message. Besides, I'm married. Like sending a package via USPS parcel post, I always deliver after a long, tiring journey. And usually, something is broken even though none of the parts are missing. :)ReplyDelete
I'm just me. I don't care about what "you" think or what "I'm" supposed to be. I'm just me. I think we should all just be "me".ReplyDelete