He doesn't get it

A customer of mine is a bit confused.  You see, she's trying to tell this boy that she's not interested in him.  They just moved in together.  Strange that he's not getting that message, huh?  Nope.

He's determined to date her.  She's determined to be independent.

And I'm just trying to serve them coffee.

But it got me thinking.

...

How often do I say that I want something but instead I DO something that kinda shows that maybe I DON'T really want that thing?  I can't think of anything specifically right now, but I guess I just wondered if it happens.  I'm pretty sure it does.

I think our soul is often at war with our culturally-formed actions and thought-processes.  Have you ever been in the midst of situation in which culturally you shouldn't have had a problem, but something deep in you said, "this is not right"?  How about a time in which you discovered something you do really well but since there is not a clear "Career Path" around that task you abandoned it?

This is when our soul is talking to us.

Remember me!!  Listen to me!!  Fight for me!!

I wonder sometimes if my soul is not the noble warrior I wish it to be.  I wonder if it is a scared boy inside a dark closet, watching his indiglo-illumined wristwatch.  Or maybe a schoolkid in detention, staring out the window, watching the birds dance in the sky, wondering if they were really all that different from him.  That if he just closed his eyes, and tried with all his might...

These thoughts tend to leave me more depressed than inspired.  Ah well.  Listening to Bon Iver tends to do this to me.  ;)

[the following is an unedited poem I wrote- so don't look into it too hard!  lol]

Your hands are around my neck
But I don't feel you squeeze
Instead you are massaging my throat
Helping me breathe
I guess I forgot how for awhile
And I guess I assumed everyone would be waiting to see me
Waiting to see me fall
Who keeps selling all these tickets?
And how come everyone's got a front row seat?
It's opening night for the third day straight
And I don't have a line to say
No I have not been given a monologue
But I feel one welling up within me
I might just blow my cue
It's only a curtain anyway
Only a curtain between you and me
Protocol
It can wait, right?
Wish there were seatbelts on those chairs
Instead all I see are rearview mirrors and air fresheners
And everyone brought their pillows and blankets
Popcorn and complacency, please

But who am I to judge
I'm the one up here
Without a line