One Dead Guy Away…
This whole Osama-Head-On-A-Stake Moment (I’ll take a CGI retouch on a shot from Apocalypse Now) has left me feeling like the last unbitten in a zombie/vampire. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a hater. I reserve the right to openly judge and bond with others against a fellow enemy.But I guard the depths of pain whose sources still seem mysterious. Without mysticism one piece of new information can dislodge a boulder and before you know it the levy of heartbreak and disappointment has broken open and you’re celebrating a dead guy half-way around the world.
(I think…someone get me a map).Sublimation. Having spent most of my life feeling asunder, I would love to believe that I’m just one CIA operation from living among the chosen people, but I didn’t spend a good used Audi in therapy to believe that neglect, pain, suffering, and the squelching of all my girlish passions didn’t at the very least teach me to unplug from the matrix, tap into the force, whatever metaphor works best before you’ve had your coffee.
Just for today, I’m totally creeped out by the celebrating of Osama’s death.