Ahh, Teeth. Spring seems to be rapidly approaching and with it not only the unholy insurgence of plant life and the return of dirty, diseased birds, but my teeth tear through as well. As for the plants perhaps a drought will splinter those efforts this year as well. The birds are busy killing Iraqi teens and grandfathers. My teeth won't stay, however. I've lost one on the left side of my mouth. Almost swallowed it with my cereal last summer. I've since learned to love it's absence. To play with that gap with my tongue and keep it like a baby or a secret love.
One more vulnerable, white belly.
I wish I had rodent teeth. Or rows and rows of razors like a shark's mouth. Something that pushed forward like these seasons. Bright white incisors and bi-cuspids. But Mine are not white. I had them discolor at 8 from an antibiotic. I started smoking young. I drink soda and tea and coffee almost exclusively. They earned a certain sepia that makes me smile closed-mouthed. Just don't forget that they are there.
I remember the guy I was for a long time. The guy sleeping within me. Maybe scared, yeah, but the fear is what made me a little dangerous. Not much. I quit hitting reasonable young, but more likely to speak words designed to tear flesh. So call it scared, I'm ok with that. I haven't spoken to hurt in some time and I think that's not a bad thing. But married to that softening has been a retreat of my comfort with confrontation. I tend to acquiesce. I tend to withdraw and I feel a little weak. With that weakness comes a fear and with in that fear I find my teeth.
I'll do my best to keep this in check. I'll promise that, but I'm feeling a need to let you in on the thing that's been the architect of who I am and that's an honesty in my alienation. I hate everything we easily accept. I lean against collective beliefs. I think our culture is muddied to impotence and I feel the very best impulses in ourselves are wills to cowardice. Lately I'm reconnecting with this vitriole that I've only alluded to in my posts about pop music. I truly hat pop culture and all of the long appendages and root systems of it.
I don't believe in addiction. I don't believe in psychology. I don't believe in medication and I don't believe in evil. I believe that a human being is a flawed and desperate thing, capable of anything and taking comfort in imaginary gods. Next post: why I smoke.