Man who thinks he's a dog bites man

Many years ago in a galaxy far far away (Loogootee,Indiana) I grew up putting off doing my English paper every Sunday night by watching this horrible piece of tv trash called "The Ed Sullivan Show" Ed Sullivan was a no talent columnist that by some twist of fate became the host of the most important variety show ever to grace the american public. He was incredibly ugly, he talked funny, he had no idea who the people on his show were, and he controlled the world. He introduced us to Elvis and The Beatles. He blackballed Jackie Mason. (thank God) On a weekly basis, however, he gave us bike riding bears, and people who could play God Bless America on crystal glasses filled with varying amounts of water. The most important act he ever introduced was this guy that spun dinner plates on the ends of sticks. He could get dozens of plates spinning on different sticks at the same time while the orchestra would play this familiar manic song that induced the feeling of impending dread. He was very good at spinning plates. Recently it has been brought to my attention that I am like the spinning plate guy. I have been doing my best to cover my bets and keep everyone happy at the same time. There are several people who matter to me in this veil of tears who don't necessarily matter to each other. As a matter of fact many actually hate the others. So I have been running about like a juggler, trying to appease everyone. Sure I've dropped a few plates along the way, but the crazy music keeps playing and I carry on like that's the way its supposed to be.

A few weeks ago I had what I initially thought was a nervous breakdown. Notice the huge gap between blogs. I began crying and couldn't stop. This is unusual because for years and years I never ever cried. I have had a few moments in the last year where I've shed tears, but this was an uncontrollable break. My first response was to let all the plates fall and start over with a whole new set of plates. My second response is to stop all the plate spinning and move on to playing God Bless America on crystal glasses. My heart is in shambles and my hours are filled with loathsome thoughts and loneliness. Yes, it's finally the real me coming out! Last night I figured now would be a good time to write a Blues song, but I still ended up writing goofy crap like I always do.
ie: I'm a man cos I make lots of money, I'm a man cos I have integrity, I'm a man cos I shave every morning, I'm a man cos I got goodies hanging off of me!" BB King could possibly make that work.

The most classic line in news gathering ever delivered is "Dog bites man is not news! Man bites dog now that's a story!" Yesterday my news outlet reported that a man in Louisiana began barking like a dog when he saw a mailman and ran out of his home and up to the letter carrier and bit him on the shoulder. It makes me feel so good to know there are people out there that do crazy shit like that. It makes me feel as if the crazy shit I do is pretty mainstream.

I don't know if there is going to be a sensible resolution to the craziness that infects my world, every day I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel and it turns out to be the killer ray from a UFO. The biting man will get a monetary fine and some psychological treatment and probably won't attack another mailman for months. I on the other hand must wade through the muddy waters of confusion for the rest of my life without a peaceful conclusion, seemingly. Excuse me now, it's late and I still have to finish my English assignment. XXXXXI