naive belly fire Hearing none of the words coming from their mouths over the din of the weld shop I practiced my most convincing "I'm listening, yes do go on" face. I found it rather amusing when Terry took me aside later and in his casual temperance mentioned what bullshitters the temps all were. Cue the "I'm listening, yes do go on" face. He had a point, of course. No, Steve the temp wasn't taking a correspondence course through Berkeley, nor was he living in an 8 bedroom house fed from an inheritance of his grandmother. But wasn't it more fun for him to make us all believe that he was? Terry loves his 32 dollars an hour just like any other team leader, but not for the same reasons. He delights in writing emails under the noses of his temps about how poorly they demonstrate skill in time management and productivity. While he feeds from his movie theatre popcorn bag, every crunch whispers to him how much better he is, how many more rungs on the ladder he's attained. All of this would be moot to me, naturally, had I not been brought aside like a naive young girl. Did Terry feel compelled to remind me not to feed their fantasies of accomplishment? I'm sure he felt better afterwards though, when I smiled and nodded and agreed, yes...they are a terribly sorry lot, aren't they? Now who's fucking naive? 040109 ... pilgrim This Constant Positioning, Weighing Oneself against Another, Is a Cold Substitute For Contentment. I For One Don't Even Look In The Mirror. 040606 ... raze sometimes i wish i could be this again. not in the way a well-meaning fool is blind to what's real. more how a child has hope and belief in the basic decency of each human being they meet, however fragile or misguided it might be. i want to be new enough to not know what's on the other side of almost every door before it opens its arms to me. i hear a hoarse voice whisper, "don't surrender the scars that made you who you are." so i spend an hour that feels like a minute staring at my half-empty glass. and i swallow what its hard heart holds. 260530 what's it to you? who go blather from