Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Happy Worst Day






Hey all you pessimists and depressives out there. It's time to celebrate. According to the UK's Dr. Cliff Arnell it's "the most depressing day of the year."
So far today, I've been celebrating by doing some quiet meditation on our corrupt government starring George W. Bush, the war in Iraq, the bird flu epidemic, terrorist threats, global warming, celebrity, the media, guns, nuclear weapons, AIDS, poverty, trash, religion, racism, sexism, abuse, pedophilia, ignorance and, of course, those first three traumatic years.
For later, I have a warm bottle of Jameson waiting, some Girls Gone Wild! DVDs, three bottles of Tylenol, Fox news, and an exacto knife and a lighter for some good old fashioned self-mutilation.
Then, when I'm good and stumbling drunk, over-medicated, bloody, burnt and geared-up from all those hot topless teens, I'll retreat to the local bar where I'll throw myself on all the old men, get in a screaming fist-fight, walk out the door and fall on my face.
If you happen to see me there on the pavement, no need to stop. I can assure you that I'm having the time of my life.







17 comments:

DML said...

To contemplate the past wishing change upon my actions, is fruitless and whispers of defeat

Cast minds' eye then, to the future, where strong will can play it's part

Alicia Goranson said...

If only contemplating my past actions resulted in "whispers of defeat."
For me, such reflection often results in chest-beating roars of regret!
Still, my mind's eye is cast.

DML said...

ah yes....as suspected, we share a common malady.....yet, there is no denying that no matter how much chest beating regret.....YOU, my dear, have incredible will, and positivity exudes from your every lament.......

intertwined in your matrix of despair, regret and sarcasm...are remnants of the joy, bliss and precocious spirit that thrive within....

apologies for my presumptuous assertions.....however, my perusal of your abstract epistiles, has allowed me to reflect upon my own state of being.....

i immediately gravitated to your delightful ejaculations, yet, saw a similar camouflage of feelings.. my introspection has provided me with an epiphany.....

within YOU lies a benevolent, sincere, loving, radiant, enchanting maiden......a sensitive, caring VULNERABLE lass, one who has been subjected to their share of the world's polluted, corrupt indifference.

your accelerated intelligence, and heightened sensitivity have occassioned you to fall back and unconciously defend those wonderful traits behind a mantle of cynicism......

in actuality, i arrived at this conclusion about myself, after a recent weekend with my young niece....her unabated affection for this crusty, malcontent broke down my external barriers....i realized, when near loved ones and little ones, i reverted to the effervescent personage i exhibited in my youth.......

the ebullient glow from your eyes belies your inner spirit, your youthful effervescence....
Alicia Goranson is SPECIAL...your words and thought procese are a portal to this opulence of charm

the ones you hold most dear, are they who see thru your facade.....the fortress built, was to keep the reprobates at bay.....

those who "know" you, pass thru your gates without reproach....

self preservation is valid motivation for the unconscious construction of this bastion

let it serve you well, but don't become captive to it's seclusion

you are a beautiful flower and sunshine demands your presence

thank you for helping see inside myself.......

Alicia Goranson said...

If you compare our "ejaculations," mine may or may not be delightful but they are certainly more economical.
Are you sure (see: "My Rapture") that you've "never published" and "hardly share?"
It seems as though you have a lot to say.
"self preservation is valid motivation for the unconscious construction of this bastion."
You're killing me.

DML said...

my apologies fair maiden, it seems i do have a tendency for extrapolation.....me thinks, perhaps, that too few words may lead to misinterpretation of intention....i should know better with one as prescient as thee....I ask but one favour, isolate not, any one passage, they are to be construed as a brotherhood of words....the whole, of course, greater than the sum of it's parts...

...."the unconcious construction" is precisely that unconcious, but it exists nonetheless.....it's mere existence serves the purpose of others not "killing you"(metaphorically speaking, of course) those with bad intent, or even without the intent, who tread upon our psyche and emotions, care not about their transgressions, nor whom they defile.....

such as the loveliest "Rose" has evolved with it's defense of thorns to protect it's gentle beauty.....so, too, have you, and your "radiance" cannot be hidden

forever thankful to you, am i, for indulging this old fool....begging your pardon my liege, i must take leave and tend to a matter of some importance

aaaah! glorious, shines the sun this fine morn, YOU must be near.............

Alicia Goranson said...

Forsooth, I am but a quick electro-current from your Lordship.
I pray thee, mark that your "brotherhood of words" shall not be disbanded as I shall herein contain my "sisterhood of thoughts."
Go, now, to your horse and your duty--and Godspeed!
If I am sunlight to your Lordship, to me, thou art a heaven of stars.

DML said...

dearest Alicia

your kind words do humble me so.....for I am not a Lord.....a mere serf, a vassal....truly, if the master knew of our liaison, soon, i'd feel the wrath of the constabulary.....then, the stocks would greet me sternly....

darest i speak, with one, so cerebral, so reflective, so ethereal, so beguiling.....

not soon, shall i forget.....that modest incantations begat the 'fairest of them all' to liken my prose to the heavens

blessed be m'lady's 'furor scribendi'

Anonymous said...

Lecy I love you on Roseanne! I'm sure you get tired of hearing that. But when did you turn into a commie?
Much Love,
A Fan

Alicia Goranson said...

Whether you be serf or vassal, let it be known to servant and master alike that you are my Lord.
May the truth of our shared affections ring out with the chapel bells and touch a thousand blackened hearts!
And if you become stocked as a result, I will sit by your side throughout your sentence, give you cool water and bread and wipe the sweat from your noble brow.
Noone dare throw a stone.

Alicia Goranson said...

Thank you for your comment. That I'm a "commie" is news to me. But at least you did not mark me a venture capitalist, hell-bent on imperialism.

DML said...

Bold and Brave a damsel are thee!

Be not foolish for the likes of this lowly swain. I fear not the stocks, the dungeon, the tower or the gallows......I fear only, thoughts of dawn to pass, without the lilt of your voice upon my ear...the smell of your hair upon my shoulders...the softness of your hand upon my cheek!

Your sweet, defiant words will stay with me always. Risk your freedom for this lout? Ring out the chapel bells? Pray, first, might thee wipe this tear, I fear a granule must have taken seed.

You are promised to another, I have no rights amongst men of lineage.... Damn the King! Damn the Sherriff! Damn the PusherMan??

I'll not go gently into the good night......throw irons upon my legs, fetter my hands, but they cannot shackle my heart.....if prison I must, then be it so....until cometh that day...I pledge myself to thee....to live each day as our last....for no enslavement is worse than whence my heart is imprisoned.

Cool water and bread, a feast would be, if shared with the likes of thee, my sweet inamorata!

Go Now! Let not today, be our last!
Off with you, Merlin shows favour, the mist is upon us and shall give concealment!

On guard, stand I, a perte de vue!

Alicia Goranson said...

Gentle Swain. If my Lord doth mark me foolish for my heart's intelligence--then a fool I must be!
Promised am I to no man. For he to whom I direct my true heart's promise chooseth not to receive it.
Alas! As my heart is kept by one, freedom I have not. Thus nothing to risk have I and nothing more to lose.
Good my Lord, what the mist doth conceal, my misty eyes do not.

DML said...

My thoughts. leave thee not, whilst I'm awake
Thy presence, in my mind, allows not, sleep

Where goes this brigand that subjugates thy heart?

Hath he no eyes?
For, there be none, more Fair!

Hath he no ears?
For, there be none, more Sublime?

Hath he no soul?
For, there be none, more Kindred?

Daft, he must be, to leave thee unrequited!

Best be it, I knowest not, for i would surely lay my blade aside his gullet, then to his knees afore thee, wouldst he cede.

Despair not, my ardent belle..

Thy shall not forsake in solitude, for I will be thy rock..........

Alicia Goranson said...

Good My Lord, subjugate my heart he doth not. For I have chosen this struggle, and struggle with my choosing.
He hath kind eyes, perfect ears and a soul like the sea.
Tho daft he can be.
O Gracious rock to lean on, might he cede by thy blade.

Alicia Goranson said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
DML said...

To it's owner, alone, dost wisdom hold tenure....Into another's mind, one cannot, thrust his own perceptions......Only, if sought, should acumen, be cast forth!

If the "sea in his soul" M'Lady doth see, then her sails, I shall unfurl.

If "kind eyes" do take thee in....on board, shall I, replenish thy stores.

If a mariner, thou dost require, then thy captain, I shall be.

Safe passage for thy dream, I shall provide. For thy Bliss, 'tis my desire.

Alas, if his "perfect ears", hear not, your call.......To the shore, shall I, return thee safe, thy feet, firm upon thy 'rock'

Shall thee desire, my blade, employ!
My steed, to the mount, to York, go I

Not a hair upon his head, wouldst I harm
Yet, would I, paddle his arse from town's square to Jersey's shore

For thy Bliss, 'tis my desire

Alicia Goranson said...

Good Rock. Adjust not thy acumen to my dream.
While thy kind words give me some comfort, they cannot lift my heavy heart from its harsh truth.
If thou dost desire my Bliss, follow thy own.
For mine has proven but a thin veil of delusion.