Through a glass, darkly

Scattered thoughts on the general condition, through the lens of being awake at 3:30 in the morning. It ain't pretty, folks.

Beautiful loser: Heard this song the other day, and it got me to thinking- Is it ok for someone to think of themselves as one, or is that a trifle narcissistic? Is it a label that can only be assigned by a second or thrid party. And if that's the case, isn't it a little nasty to refer to someone you know well enough to call a friend as a "loser"? Perhaps it's mutually exclusive, and you lose the "beautiful" part, by being aware of the "loser" part? Or maybe you're not such a loser, if you realize the grace and dignity involved in the "beautiful" part? This is what laying in bed being overly analytical will get you, by the way.

Letting go: Why is it so hard? Rationally, I think 99.3% (a scientifically made up number, I actually pulled directly from my ass to this webpage) of people know when it is time to let go of things, or perhaps maybe they know when it is futile not to, yet it never really seems to make it easier, does it? I suppose that's what mourning and feelings of regret and loss are all about-an inability, or unwillingness to let go. Boy that was deep. Watch out Freud, I'm gunning for you.

Satisfaction: The time honored question remains. Why can't I get no? If someone had told me at 16 that the refrain from what in my mind is the greatest R'n'R single of them all would ring true to me at 48, I'd probably have answered "well what's the fucking use then?" Oh well, I try, and I try...and I can't get no