Ode to the Thoughtless

Thoughtless, crass, rude, mean, obtuse, reckless.

You stupid mother trucker!
Can't you see me pucker?
up my little face?
as tears begin to race,
along my well-used laugh lines?

How can you be so mean!
So vile, obtuse, obscene?
I have a heart!
It's not fine art,
But certainly worth kid-gloves!

Are you so harsh, jagged, broken?
Or do you wish your words unspoken?
To claim them back,
To reverse attack?
Make amends to one you hold dear.

Whenever I can describe anyone I know, and especially anyone I love, as thoughtless... well it hurts me in a place that is commonly known as my "heart" but is more accurately described as the center of who I am. Overly dramatic? Maybe. But I tend toward the dramatic, which most assuredly is not the German in me, but is more likely the girlish, less brassy side of my nature. I'm a tender heart.

Yes, yes.... you may look back at some of the other essays, right on this site, that I've written and think tender? TENDER? Tender my ass! But I will tell you once if I have to tell you a thousand times, I am a woman of dozens, if not hundreds, of faces. Sybil is my third cousin on my mother's uncle's side. In fact, I loath to meet a person whom I can know wholey and completely after one chance meeting. It's like sitting down to a nice dinner, expecting a glass of your favorite wine, and getting Cool-Aid instead. Completely unsatisfactory.

There is a place for one dimensional people, certainly. But if you find that place, please text me, email me, leave me a FaceBook message! Something in the way of a warning. I would like to avoid that particular place. Thanks. That would incredibly thoughtful and kind.

But I digress.

So I'll get back to my main train of thought with a question:

Are some people just naturally more thoughtless than others? Is it an inbred trait, or learned? And if it's learned? Who the hell are these parents to copulate, then raise and release these damn social misfits on the rest of us???

Certainly, we're all prone to a bad day or two during the course of a lifetime. We all say things we don't mean from time to time. This discussion pertains to the chronic misanthrope. The one person who, no matter the situation, can always be counted on to say the most wrong thing, at the most wrong time, and then still come away totally oblivious to the devastation he's left behind. He is commonly found, seconds after the uncalled for callous, foul, noxious comment, looking dumbfounded and asking (out loud I might add), "What the fuck did I do?"

Idiot.

Oh yes I did say HE. Though this person is not always of the male persuasion (I can think of two women I know who just yesterday flew their thoughtless flags) the perpetrator usually has more testosterone than a woman with serviceable breasts and working ovaries could ever have. Not always, no, but usually.

And that brings me to another point, which I'm afraid I will have to expound upon in another essay: rarely do things exist at the extremes. ALWAYS happens almost NEVER. Look for that to entitle my next rant.

Just wanted to prepare you for what's coming next. I'm Thoughtful like that :)

P.S. I invited 'thoughtless' into my life once, so I am biased. And if you're gonna get all Dr. Phil on me and ask how that's workin' for me? It works just fine for me. Thanks for asking, ya tool.

And P.P.S. Mother trucker?? Why yes. I didn't feel the need to start my essay by dropping the F-bomb first thing. Don't like it? Go write your own damn blog. But if you do, link me! It'll help my rankings :) Love youuuuu!

Oh, and finally P.P.P.S If you don't like my poem, you can also go lump it. I usually write prose of the non-rhyming kind. I really could have used a good rhyming dictionary. I'll not apologize, but I will say this... it is a little embarrassing.