For me, it seems like there isn’t much choice
I meet people at church, at the golf course, at work, and socially
they all have different ways about them
I prefer the grizzly men on the golf course who remind me of sailors
I know who they are, immediately
because they don’t hide, or pretend to be someone they’re not
This is because they’re loaded with beer
They dress in T-shirts tucked into their Levi’s
They have wives, they need to get away from
I have played with military guys, drivers, factory workers, and plumbers.
They all shoot the shit, like an artform.
The people at work are friendly, until they get stressed
We all have to act professionally, so it is very difficult to get to know our rough edges.
The professional world uses polish, but it doesn’t clear things up
it makes everything distorted, and uncertain
Only when someone takes a risk, and acts unprofessional, can you get a sense of who they are
but they quickly snap out of it, for fear of not fitting in to the professional hoard of propriety and career advancement.
Yesterday, we made a BELONGING collage, and my co-worker anonymously wrote penis into his cell phone
and it appeared on the board, and nobody noticed.
It was too small.
The science teacher talked about my motivation for working-out at the gym
He suggested that I do it for the women in spandex
“No,” I said. I do it in the morning. Only weird people work-out in the morning. One guy had-on a yellow halter top with PISS written on the front.
The other looked like he wanted to kill somebody. After work, it’s only professional women.”
A professional woman walked in, and I had to stop talking. These sorts of conversations are dangerous, especially when desperate men want to make something happen, and desperate women can’t wait for desperate men to say something stupid.
My other social place is church.
There are the recently converted who are the most honest, and those raised in the church who seem to be the least honest. Neither one appeals to me.
The people I meet randomly, are the people I am most likely to be friends with.
If we share the same passions, and there is something I don’t quite understand about them, we will meet again. I think it’s a law of the Universe, or my own Universal law. It doesn’t take any great effort to make these friends, and in my opinion, they are the only ones worth having.
The few other friends I have are found in books. I read a lot. I’ve narrowed it down to two friends, Bukowski and Thoreau.
Bukowski, because he is unholy, and wisdom spews out of him like vomit, and Thoreau, because he is spiritual, and can describe vomit, like it’s the elixir of the gods.
Who knows why we are attracted to certain people and certain things. Maybe, this mystery, is why friends are so valuable.