Coming in through the rear...

I've always been tickled and slightly aroused by the mundane.  In a sense that it brings me peace and a mecca of self assuredness.  What do I do with that self assuredness? I take the mundane and spiral into the ridiculous. A vicious cycle only stopped when met with a swift kick in the face or a tongue in the ass.  Relationships seemingly flourish and wilt as a result of this. And my concept of what is 'wholesome' and what is 'tarnished' begin to blur. Yes, I want security in the comforts of the day-to-day...but the seething truth of it is, I want to be fucked in the chaos or a small town Best Western.
The battle of wits that I have with myself usually end with a casualty of one.  The saying 'life is a journey' takes on a whole new meaning when the journey is full of small, rusted, one-engined airplanes and unforgiving locals. I'm a fanny-pack toting tourist of my own mind. 
A gospel of God's angels and tattooed antagonists battling it out for my soul.  This leaves me feeling...well...soulless.  And when feeling soulless, I turn to the immediate satisfaction from pretzels and cream cheese and inspirational quotes on Facebook.  

That shit is deep. And a reminder that I need to clean the toothpaste spittle off the mirror.