Dingo the Dissident

THE BLOG OF DISQUIET : Qweir Notions in the Armpit of Diogenes by DINGO the DISSIDENT binge-thinker since February 2008.

Friday, 10 April 2020

I'm glad I failed

to do so many things,
to be as others wanted,
I'm glad
that I declined some invitations,
left early, failed to cope
with certain situations,
I took the earlier bus*,
didn't take someone's advice.

I'm glad I never had a job or wife or child,
brother, sister, father or grandfather;
I'm glad I was for so long immature
and challenging and wild;
I'm glad I kept away from hypocrites
and never myself pretended to be what
I was not and never could have been.

I'm glad I live alone
in what I (but rampant consumers would not)
consider to be considerable, unearned luxury.
I'm glad that I am glad to be such
a quiet, self-motivating, unconsidered parasite
within a culture and a horribly-parasitic species I'm ashamed of.

I hope that I do not 'protest too much'.

*Had I taken my usual bus on Bloody Friday 1972,
I would have been injured by an IRA bomb in the bus-station.


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