Lately I've been thinking about that one Carley Simon song.. you know, that one that talks about clouds in the coffee, etc. Sure, she's a bit dated for younger people, but I still liked that song.
"You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you"
etcetcet. It's always made me wonder. If she's singing that, then wouldn't the song be about that person? If it's not.. she's at least giving that person the satisfaction of recognition. She shows a little bit of weakness in the fact that she's trying to get over somthing unpleasant. She's trying to be strong, and she's trying to be the badly needed break in a situation. but is she really succeeding?
I feel that sometimes. there are times when I'm sitting around the house or watching TV, or going to the coffeehouse, and I stop to think about things. Perhaps I've been discriminated against for my gender or race one too many times. (Beleive it.. it happenes to even white people if you're in the right places) Or perhaps I just get frustrated with people who don't know how to see past the ends of their noses.. But whatever the case may be, I tend to rant from time to time just like anyone else. I may sound like I'm bitching about one thing or another all the time, but you gotta figure that if I take the time to write somthing down, even if it's typing a rant on LJ, it's becuase there's somthing bothering me.. or somthing I'm thinking about, or somthing i feel that either needs a resolution.. or.. as satan would put it in Little Nicky.. a pinapple up the ass. The other little triumphs and victories and annoyances are things you don't see. The only real way for you to know what was going on in my life at all times would be for me to become a cam girl and take it to the point where I have a camera mounted on myself so that you could see what I was doing everytime I leave the house. But do you really want to see me take a crap? I think not. There are rude people out there anyway who may think they know me so well, and know my habits.. I'd hate to shock them or give them any sort of heart failure when I fail to live up to their expectations. Ah.. so it goes. Anyone read Vonnegut lately, Mr. Rosewater?
Ah.. but let me ramble.. and I could tell you millions of soft nothings about how we're all different, and how I'll never be understood by the people I try to understand myself. It's not like it matters. I'm sorry, Minna.. I love you so much I have no life.