My ability to please

My beauty is based upon cheap skills,  it takes a small amount of effort to learn how to perform the social back flips I do.  Sometimes when someone looks at me I laugh,  because I know that they haven't the slightest clue of who I am.  What my friends and the people around me see is the performance of a lifetime.  A performance within a performance within a performance.  At the mall we can walk,  my gang of misfits and I,  and I can show them the performance I give to the crowd.  This performance requires little skill and large swaths of confidence.  It is very easy to yell at random people in public,  I just have to shut off that switch that seems to be innately built into humans to behave considerable around each other.  You could just say I am just being an asshole,  but I think the assholes are the ones that give cheap stares to complete strangers and would walk past someone who is crying and act nonchalant as if they were the ants we step over on the pavement.  Maybe if those ants were devouring a rotting human carcass they would seem to gain much more weight in our minds.

 Next is the performance to the elite circle,  this involves more cards played of ridiculous values.

The key to building the humor of the group:  Blatant exaggeration that stems into almost pure megalomania,  shameless self scarification,  and to hold up the supports of bewilderment one must tighten the tension of the ropes built by societal fear.  The key is to make them think that you shouldn't be doing what you are doing,  that you are stealing the cookies from the jar and they are taking a bite while snickering under the table with you.

The sad irony;  Jokes when we are children are preparation for adult behavior and thus non-serious play fighting like baby carnivores.
While Jokes when we are adults all have a bitter hint of truth in their taste,  the greed behind getting away with turning that ridiculous joke into unabashed truth overwhelms us. 

So when there is a small group I reign with humor without becoming the jester of their court,  this is impossible with large groups and it will only lead to being bound in shackles to have rocks/fruit thrown at my face.  It is only possible to make the group laugh while maintaining dignity by pointing out the groups flaws in such a way that only a portion of the group applies,  or in other words using stereotypes.  We laugh at stereotypes now because they are so forbidden.  But finally at the level of group performance we get to my Achilles heel and lifetime woe:  Nobody will ever see me for who I am.

A friend will see the Dom that performs the friendly engagement behavior mechanism,  and some things we say to some friends we never end up saying to others be it for various benign or vile reasons.  A lover will see another lovers behavior only when they are in love.  If I were to ever love somebody they would have to see me as I truly am,  naked and crying,  the way I left the womb.  I want my love to see my wrath,  my sadness, my paranoia,  my self love and my self pity.  If she could see this and accept it than she would be the only true woman living in the world to my eyes,  all others seem like cheap imitations thus far.

How can so many personalities fall into so few archetypes?  especially when it comes to psychedelic circles, where the raw personalities come out.  There is the Mans woman,  the ladies man.  The hopeless romantic,  the naive romantic,  the queen, the wench,  the dark beauty and light angel.  We are all bound into these circumstantial archetypes,  we are shaped by our locations, our food, our homes, our furniture,  our friends, our genes, our parents genes,  their parents genes,  the rotation of the earth,  the burning of the sun,  the pull of gravity,  the flight of electricity,  the sway of what's current and I will only tell you one thing:  Following the Current is what's current as it always is and always was. . . . Falling downward.

I don't want to be the T.V I now refuse to watch,  I don't want to be the bed I sleep in every night,  I don't to be my routine built around everyone Else's routine built around the days in the week.  The archetypes are our prisons and the bars are the folds of our brains built by favorable circumstances,  adaptation is the way out of the door and fearless change is the key.  In order for the soul to escape the current it must act as a harlequin,  a chameleon,  a cuttlefish.  Every little piece of sensory information whether it be damaging or not is taken into the brain.  The key is to be a cuttlefish with the mind akin to the external digestive gut of a fungus,  exposed to elements but free from predation or poison.  BE the poison NOT the drinker of it.  When the soul lives in this state long enough it must pick the right time to abscess the unnecessary limbs,  like the arms of the starfish,  the tail of a lizard,  and the tail of the frog.  Once this is done the vultures will be looking for more so the albatross must come out and take off across the ocean the vultures cannot cross.  This allows the soul to escape the current and if it must as it generally does it can cross into a new current by becoming the harlequin once again.

If you truly see me you will see I have been the camouflaged harlequin for sometime and a Lion lurks beneath my skin.