About The Funk...

Observational Spittle from the mind of a man of color in his 40s, without the color added (most times). Come in, laugh, and you may learn something...

90 Things That Irritate The Sh** Out Of Me Trailer

Sunday, November 13, 2011

A little bit of that Human Touch

"Positivity...yes! Have you had your plus sign today?" - Prince, from "Lovesexy."

Look at me, quoting 23 year old albums (wait, do u still call recordings put together in sequence "albums"? Or is that "digital discography in a shortened version for your listening pleasure?"

Hell if I know.

Anywho, whew, it's been a rough ride...not like a porn starlet rough ride; otherwise I'd be writing this latest and greatest with a smile on my face (or was it that SHE was on my face? Wait, that's tactless...let's move on!)

This will be a short one, as that I got to get up for church and squirm, because I am not sure what the hell I believe in anymore.

No, not talking about the Almighty; shit, I know he's there; he's just not taking new customers right now, and I've pissed him off too much to get a better number in the heavenly BMV.

I am talking about belief in one's self.

One's self...it is all "ooooooh, G.Eric is trying to get metaphysical and shit."

Wait, let me look the word up, just so my attempt to sound educated sounds, well, uneducated...

:::A brief pause while G searches the internet...this is sponsored by ugly people named Ducky:::

"Metaphysics is a branch of philosophy concerned with explaining the fundamental nature of being and the world..."

Yes! My $60K education (which wouldn't get you books and a PB&J these days) counts for something!

OK, back to faith in one's self.

God knows I've had faith in myself shaken to the core...I mean like an apple, folks.

:::Brief silence for Steve Jobs, as that every time I look at an Apple, I'll think of that mad mother clicker:::

I have screamed at God, the dog, and that mail lady who brings my mail and should really get a more supportive bra.

But then I screamed internally at myself...and the chastised internal little boy said "yeah, you're right, you suck like Hoover...J. Edgar, that is."

Damn it...self pity and LOATHING didn't pay the electric bill this month, so I gotta keep looking at my "one's self" internals.

I'm smart, but I can't trust my brain.

I am more high maintenance than Donald Trump's hair.

I am at times...misunderstood...sort of like MJ, cept I can't sing and don't like using the term "sha'mon" in normal convos.


...I am still standing. Wobbly like Rocky in the final film (maybe!), but still here.

The human part of my "one" is sort of tired.

The soul? Ticked off, slightly bitter, but not defeated.

Ugh. Damned metaphysics. Big ol' sigh.

It's 12:41.

So, in short, I wonder if folks sort of walk through life, and when shit hits them in the teeth messing up their lunch, if they look at their own "self" and see if they can get up for one last round.

I am not sure if I feel like it, but damn it, I hear "Eye of the Tiger" faintly in the background.

Love the song, but I hope it ain't "Meow of the Kitty" instead.

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