The driver’s driving, and so he doesn’t have time to talk to me. So what does he do instead? Oh, he throws me in the back of his bandwagon along with giggling girls and lame background noises. He has ruined me again. I’m putting my feelings in the mix because he stuck me in the back with fans. Internally, I jump around and shout, but I’m not just another fan! I’m twitching and shit…
“Sit cho ass down!”
Looking around, swamped by soulmates, lost in colorful commotion and old wood planks, my shouts lose themselves in the chaos – in psychedelic confusion. My eyes roll. My shoulders sink deep and deeper in the wood.
It’s liquid cheesy. All praises and requests have a commercial falseness to it. “Oh yeah,” I mumble, “well, I couldn’t care less.” I’m humming; twitching. I criticized his actions with a hand gesture. “Get your head up out of your cakes, huh.” I hate the stench of the crowd. The people. Swamping me. Curse him for losing me in their egos and crap. Che palle! Although I feel as if I shouldn’t be snubbed, the driver’s actions have done nothing but snub me. Sitting in the back of his pickup truck, I feel slighted. My shoulders sink deep and deeper in the wood.
I’m bleeding deep and deeper in his black wooded river…
I prefer not to jump on anyone’s bandwagon. It’s annoying, that the person in question is usually swamped with so many counterfeit soulmates, requests and praises, that I get lost in background noise. I hate the just another stranger in the crowd feeling. Curse him and everyone who looks like him. Although he doesn’t know me, I feel hurt by the snub. If I’m able to see lifetime after lifetime spent with the driver, why can’t he see it – this Spiritual Teacher, this Spiritual Guru, this Hollywood Actor.
He’s an actor for sure.
I feel as if I’m just a number in the wood. It’s frustrating, that this familiar soul, this soulmate, this friend doesn’t know me. I feel slighted. How arrogant of me to expect the cosmos to strike him the way it struck me. It’s frustrating, that he’s swamped by so many hangers-on; energy vampires. Yes, I feel his gratitude; however, I don’t like the feeling of suffocation. I hate the feeling that comes along with being dumped in someone’s fan base. Not anyone’s fan base, just his fan base. It’s time, I think, it’s the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m getting off at the next cosmic stop. This bandwagon jazz ain’t the right kind of jazz for me. He’ll never notice my plain wooded shoulders in his sea of superficial cognizance anyway. I know it. I’m over it. I’m outta here. I’m waiting… either up High or far-far away in fear. Divine fear. He has ruined me again.