Secret Pop

Sep 17, 2003

Venom tastes like venom. No surprise there.

I don't know what the per capita allotments for disappointment and despair are. Maybe I'm right at the average mark. Maybe even slightly below. I'm not so arrogant as to believe that I'm the only person who is made to feel bad about things. Or that I am the only one who suffers. Or that I get a great deal more crap in my life than anyone else. But there are times when I would wager I've had my fair share and that it's about time people who call themselves friends stop trying to upend me when I am most vulnerable. I wonder if there is some phrase you can say that forces a wolf in sheep's clothing to decloak against his will. "Masks off!" I would cry. And my falsest pals would suddenly be forced to reveal themselves as unkind or disloyal or vicious, whichever they happened to be.

But that's not it, really. It's not that I keep being tricked. I think the details under the mask are being made plain to me rather frequently. But it's no less unhappy to find out that someone doesn't care about you when you thought they did. It's no less of a jolt to know that hurting your feelings caused some person no loss of sleep or batting of eyes. It's such a surprise to me every time I realize how easy it is for some people to be hurtful. A great mystery, the solving of which brings no satisfaction.

I'm not trying to be cryptic. I'm just trying to keep my dirty laundry in its tidy little sack. You can make reference to the sack that holds the dirty laundry without actually being so crass as to air it, can't you? That's the principle by which I operate tonight.

I went to see Eddie Izzard's Sexie. It was super terrific. However, failing a seat in the first three rows, I feel so frustrated at live shows that I can't help but already be hastening in my mind toward the day I get to buy the DVD of the show and watch it in the quiet, unobstructed view provided by my living room. Of course, given how long it took Dress to Kill to come out on DVD, I may have to rely on Ol' Faithful -- my memory, that is. Anyway, it was good fun, and I can't be persuaded that it wasn't.

I don't have to write such long entries. I know that. Watch as I realize

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