To be a kid again, Random BS, A Michael Jackson Crotch grab and Wesley Snipes in Passenger 57
“To hell with reality! I want to die in music, not in reason or in prose. People don’t deserve the restraint we show by not going into delirium in front of them. To hell with them!”
― Louis-Ferdinand Céline
[This following post may not make any sense] I read a bad ass post by the youthfully exuberant and forever ebullient Ms. Emily entitled to be a kid again. It made me take a moment out of my day to revisit my childhood, which was nice to do so outside the therapist office. What made it interesting for me was that there is no place to return to. We carry our childhood every moment of everyday. I still like periods of solitude. I still like to have my mouth on a nice pair of boobies, I still powder my genitals (Gold Bond’s Snitches) I still walk around the house naked….But seriously now, I do all those things, but I haven’t changed much at all from the time I was a kid. I think the fact that sometimes we think of childhood as being past, and over and dead and in doing so create the conditions for it to be forever inaccessible.
That’s not to say I see myself as a weirdo adult-kid like Michael Jackson although when I am dancing I like to grab my crouch to fix the groceries, all that spinning, gyrating and dry humping . I’m MrMary, neither old nor young, I’m just here in the moment. It’s hard to say one is old or young if you don’t know when your gonna die. So without further ado I decided to through in my two cents on if Peter Pan visited me
If Peter Pan showed up at my window and asked me to join him in Never-Neverland first I would say aren’t you lost ? you best be leaving ni&@as like shooting ’round here. Second I would be like “I don’t wanna leave this place only to be a minority in a tree house, Negros and trees don’t go well together.” Also its called never never land there because there are no girls and I’ll never never get laid, unless I become a pirate and am forced to swab the deck and shit. I’d offer Pete some profanities and the sadistically bland food someone cooked here with the strange idea that a person in fully possession of their faculties would eat it as a parting gift before I slammed the window shut. I’m only 30 I can’t feel time ticking away , I feel as wild and as crazy as ever, and also freedom means something now. I am going to go as far with it as I can go
When I was little, I sat down one day and in a day dream the whole world made sense in a nonsensical way. I built forts out of sofa cushions and blankets and it never felt small. I don’t believe “adults” who “know better”. I dont think any of us know anything and its all a crap shoot, a roulette game and like Wesley Snipes in Passenger 57 – I always bet on Black.
Life, as much as I wish it wasn’t, is real only in so far as “I am”