At Least They're Committed

Ah, the smell of bacon frying, the hiss of it, the pop and the pain of the grease burning my flesh. Yeah. Well, it’s been a pleasant *snarl* couple of days. But they’re over. I messed up, I shouldn’t have said that — especially since it could be construed as me passing judgement and I wasn’t — and I know it, and I’m moving on.

I’ve had Korn’s “Falling Away from Me” stuck in my head the past two days. Sometimes, that’s OK.

Hey, I’m feeling tired.
My time, is gone today.
You flirt with suicide.
Sometimes, that’s OK.
Do what others say.
I’m here, standing hollow.
Falling away from me.
Falling away from me.

Speaking of Korn, I need to get my Sebring to Firestone to get the brake pads and belts checked. I can now stay on top of the things that are too easily put off — such as car maintenance, shots for the dogs, etc. Plus, when I take the car in, I hope to see my “new boyfriend,” who I fondly call Voldemort because their names are the same despite being spelled differently.

Day, is here fading.
That’s when, I would say.
I flirt with suicide.
Sometimes kill the pain.
I can always say.
‘It’s gonna be better tomorrow’.
Falling away from me.
Falling away from me.

Oh, so what does Korn have to do with Voldemort the dashing head mechanic? He wasn’t working the day I dropped the truck off when I mentioned to the gals there that I was going to the concert. However, when I picked up the truck the next day he asked how Korn was, bright blue eyes smiling as I mentioned being out until 1 a.m. (he said that’s tough on people OUR age). He gave me his card . . . twice . . .and proceeded to flirt with me so openly and to such an extent that I tittered, TITTERED I tell you! Like a 14-year-old! Appalling.

Beating me down.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.
Screaming some sound.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.

Moving on. Yeah, I fucked up. I suppose if there were anyone I’d want to kill, it would be Leah. But in the same way Korn saves the child from an abusive father as the friends standing in the lawn wait and pump their fists in support, I had a late-night visitor, I guess to save me from myself.

(falling away from me).
It’s spinning round and round.
(falling away from me).
It’s lost and can’t be found.
(falling away from me).
It’s spinning round and round.
(falling away from me).
Slow it down.

Gabriel — who I expect to come in the mail any day now — asked what I’d done all day. I said I’d gotten behind because I was too crippled with doubt and self loathing. He asked if I’d eaten at McDonald’s. I smiled and said, no, EBD came home for lunch and he and I went out to eat and compared and contrasted “Clash of the Titans” movies.

Beating me down.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.
Screaming some sound.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.

Then he asked why else I hadn’t gotten much done and I told him Brian and I had pinged nearly all day and I would now have to make up that time this weekend.

Twisting me, they won’t go away.
So I pray, go away.

He reminded me that I’d done even more stupid things that Brian was witness to, and said yet he is still one of my best friends. It’s true. And then he said I’d done and said plenty of other foolish things around all my friends throughout my lifetime and yet I’ve only lost two friends and that was because of their envy, not my idiocy.

Life’s falling away from me.
It’s falling away from me.
Life’s falling away from me.
Fuck!

Then he said my friends had said and done ridiculous things to and around me and I said I don’t remember. He just said, “See?”

Beating me down.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.
Screaming some sound.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.

So, yeah, I’d wanted to keep what I said to myself and even though it’s all true, I shouldn’t have let it get out there or get to me. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of in my life, but that doesn’t make me bad, so whoever wants to hate me can hate me. I’m moving on. And eating bacon.