Podcast: Wailing On These Hoes

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

"Got a feelin' that I don't belong...

...got a feelin' that I shouldn't be here.

Miss Li - Bourgeois Shangri-La

In case you don't recognize the words or did not care to address the above link, the title leading to the lyrics and the ensuing link are all from the the song featured in last year's iPod Nano commercial. Coincidentally, the lyrics above chronicle the story of my short, hapless, semi-charmed life in a quaint, catchy little nutshell. Needless to say I effing LOVE this song either way but the poppy poignancy of it all is what draws me to it. Enough about the damn song though. For the first time in a long time this blog entry is about ME. Deanna. The real one. Not De De T. Not the crass social commentator. Not your baby daddy's worst nightmare. Not the proud drunk. Just average, plain-ole, degreeless, unemployed, incidentally celibate, horribly in debt, socially bereft, unaccomplished Deanna. No, no children--the pleasure's all mine.

I'm not posting this nonsense to get you people to give me the attention that I severely lack or inspire any of you to soothe me with kind words and gentle wisdoms. Keep that gay shit to yourselves. The reason I'm writing this (I think) is because there are things about myself that I cannot perceive until I type it all out in black and white or, in this case, black and tan. I simply need to be read so I shall...

Getting back to the basis of the title... I mean it's pretty self explanatory, is it not? If I appear to be isolated on the surface, that's because I am. I don't live the way that ANY of you live. I don't go to the club. I don't pop bottles. I'm about as far from "independent" as any one woman can be at the ripe old age of 25. I'm not "fancy" by any definition--contemporary or otherwise. I don't have a slew of trade calling constantly and stalking my fb profile. I have little to do with facebook outside of purporting my own literary efforts and providing a bit of cajolery to my some 250 fb "friends" (Shameless, I know.) I don't "tweet" and status update my every last move. I don't troll mediatakeout, ybf, necole bitchie, wshh or any other gossip site clinging to every tidbit of useless celebrity info. To top it all off, I whole-heartedly could NOT give a fuck about any one of the aforementioned activities. Nope, I'm hardly the gal that niggas write the same song about over and over again. I'm simply a hanging woman, trying desperately to shake out of my noose.

Don't know why but I've always been on the outskirts of familiarity. The things that seem so important to the populace have always seemed so hollow to me. What do any of those things offer to the better of man? How do they edify one's life an any way? Even in my recent stupor I have tried to involve myself in the diversions of the day and I'm left only with disgust--disgust that the only social interaction I'm allotted is found on facebook while the things I would love to do are limited to those who lead fruitful, complete lives. I would give just about anything to just be able to leave. To go somewhere and do something worth while. Something that is much bigger than fuckin facbook and twitter and blogger. Something that isn't pretentious or over exaggerated.

But that isn't my life right now. Right now I'm stuck and it seems like I'll never see the world again. My "world" right now is a very small and limited one. It is one that is albeit devoid of human contact, intellectual intercourse and any enjoyments. Yeah, I know I'm supposed to enjoy the little things but there are only so many of those that one can cling to before the paralyzing realization of complete failure sets in. I'm 25. I'm broke. I live with my moms. I have no car. No job. I'm not in school and can't go. I have no romantic endeavors to set forth and no prospects thereof. I'm a quarter-life spinster. I read alone. I watch entirely too much TV alone. I eat alone. I drink alone. I sleep alone. I would get a puppy that I could dote on and smother with all my unrequited affections but mother doesn't allow them. (Ha. "Mother doesn't allow them." How sad is that, huh?)

To some of you this may sound like ye olde pity party and you can say that if you like. I would love nothing more than to inflict my life upon any one of you and have you live it better for me. I'm sure you all would fill each and every day with optimism and hope. I'm almost certain that you could turn everything around in an instant with little to no options available to you and put shame to my destitution. I'm sure none of you would tire of hearing your own voice just so the silence wouldn't be so despicably persistent. I'm just bitter that's all. Just another self-tortured pessimist...

Can't stand another single day/Gotta get away...

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