Feb 2012

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<entry>

<itemid>144811</itemid>

<eventtime>2012-02-05 00:18:00</eventtime>

<logtime>2012-02-05 05:18:43</logtime>

<subject>What I Saw In the Mirror</subject>

<event>

By Emmit Other It starts in a parking lot leaving the Plaza theater. And I don't know anyone there. And it goes to a nearby diner. And I don't know anyone there. And it goes to a Waffle House with no wifi In the middle of the night. And I don't know anyone there. To a Dunkin Donuts Where I start to Write Like a Son of a Bitch And realize Some stories written Should not be shared. And I don't know anyone there. To breakfast at the Flying Biscut. And the folks come. Turns out I'm high on caffeine. And its just the two of us. And I go home And sleep for three hours Then we have dinner at the Sweet tomato. The folks and Grandma. And that's it. And then we see a movie. Tin tin. Boring But OK. And then I go to a club. There are people I know there. But they're not there because of me. Just a fortuitous accident. Its my 40th. And no one but family shows. And they've started to hate each other. How long before they hate me maybe? Dunno. Don't Care. I've got a Wall full of Facebook Wellwishers. Its nice But not a one of them showed. I don't care individually. Everyone has their own lives. It hurts But I don't care about that so much. I have a lot of friends That love to hang out with me If I randomly run into them At Write Club Or Dragon Con Or at the Shelter. But an invitation? Its like pulling teeth. It is what it is But I understand now I understand why no woman can connect with me I don't have a script writer And I look in the mirror And I understand In my dreams Why I'm the thing the nightmares fear Because swimming around there in the dreams Somewhere I left my soul behind. I'm just a construct A clockwork fleshy thing Of muscle and bone I feel But I'm still an empty shell Going through the motions Disconnected Of no value. Worthless. I'd nearly beat them down The whispers in my head And in 24 hours They're back on top of the world Celebrating. It crushes my spirit Like nothing else ever could. Makes me ill Violently ill. I crawl into a hole But I know now this is how the movie ends. All the preparations in the world Will never change The fact that I'm a soulless monster. At best People want to be around me Due to guilt Or worry about what I'll do to myself. They shouldn't worry. Its going to end eventually anyway Which is a consolation really Because in this movie All of the interesting things Happened in the first twenty minutes And the last half? Its me Sitting in a coffee shop In the middle of the night Writing things that no one is ever going to read Celebrating a birthday that no one cares about At five o clock in the morning. And the good I do in the world? Look this isn't rocket science people. I know what it feels like To have no one show up. So I make sure it doesn't happen to them. But there is no Karma. And there are no screenwriters. And there never will be. There never will be.

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