Declaration of Dysfunction Article 3 Section II

January 8, 2012

And actually I don’t know why the hell I was asking…like I care what you think.

So you see these cast off units were my family.

And among the other good for nothings, among my new family, it turned out I was pretty good at turning on and dropping out.

And you have to remember that by the time we get to this point it’s now the late seventies. The generation of peace and love was making way for the kids of hate and anarchy…that was me, I was one of them.

Tune in, turn on, drop out, disrupt.

That could have been the new motto.

F-em all was easier to say.

Okay so this is what I had become, by seventeen a completely dysfunctional unit.

As much able to support myself as a thread bare bra supports a 60 year old stripper.

I like to think that this was not my original destiny, what God had in store when he formed me in the womb, or for you humanists, what genetics had in store for me.

But that of course brings nature vs nurture into question now doesn’t it and I don’t know if I wanna go down that long road in this post.

Because in the long run it doesn’t matter what made me dysfunctional, just that I became that way.

Its just that the process of this becoming seemed a lot like life.

I, for all I knew, was simply tryin to survive, but in that surviving I became this…this…well again, dysfunctional unit.

Okay, there I was fully fledged and malfunctioning on all cylinders.

I’m a year out of High School.

It’s the year of our Lord 1978

Those I interacted with were also, for the most part, dysfunctionally operating units of their own variety.

I felt no real kinship no connection with most of them. And they were operating in the same way toward me.

These early years were filled with other stoners, drunks, thieves, dealers,  n’er do wells of many stripes.

Even those I considered “friends” often times (in hindsitlical examination)only kept me around, cause I was always hanging around. I filled the “oh shit it’s that f-ing crazy guy” spot  that every group of friends needs.

The one common trait of course was partying, drugs etc.

Living on the fringes of regular society and taking the rich scraps that often fall (or are sometimes taken) from the banquet table of the functional.

But after a few years I knew these people weren’t like me, they weren’t my real family.

I dressed in crazy thrift store get ups. Cut my own hair with whatever implement was on hand, giving me…as one person put it…a concentration camp look.

I carried notebooks everywhere I went and was often mocked or had to fight some guy at a party for bein…umm…not manly.

Now it’s also important to know I and the people I hung with were mostly speed people…

Okay wait, yea we drank, smoked pot, acid, shrooms, pcp, cannabinol, etc(remember this is the s’70’s).

But for those who aren’t big in the drug culture let me clue ya into something…yer either n upper person or a downer person, a fan of speed, meth, coke etc, or a fan of barbitutes, heroin, opiates etc…

Anyway back to it…

I am and hung with speed people.

But I always knew, like I said above, I was not truly one of them and was treated as, a unit apart. (I was yet to find other mad poets, that was still nearly a decade away…0h it is to laugh).

So I will skip the next ten years or so of drug crazed, alcohol hazed, fornicating, crime doin, people usin, notebook scribblin, mountain ramblin, bush sleepin, drunk a-hole, trouble causin hilarity; maybe I will post some of the high and low lights some day.

(As of this re-blogging I have actually done so…3 posts featuring my 3 worst “dates” or the 3 I specifically remember as being outstanding for their hilarity.”)

But this is my declaration and and there is one more becoming to discuss. And fer now you’ll have to be happy with what madness I’ve shared.

Once I realized that I had, through an unconscious procedure become one thing…

I began to consider that perhaps through a conscience process I could become something different.

Of course,  I never do anything half way.

And I swear I’m gonna explain it in hundred words or less.

This second becoming wasn’t an easy process. It took about ten years of trial and error and in the long run the only real world applicable difference is the stuff I write about in this blog.

Most of the differences are merely theoretical.

My blog itself is a description of these theoretical differences between what I first believed entering the big world (all the liberal peace corps, new age, anarchistic monkey wrenchin, beyond war, crystal, hoo-doo socialistic bull crap) and what real life has forced me to believe and accept as truth, dysfunctional or not…

You are only as good as your components, only as good as your soft and hard ware, so figure out what kind of unit you are, make the best of it, and stop cryin…

Some of us are designed to be Oprahs or Shaqs,  some of us are designed to flip burgers or sweep floors, some of us are designed simply to be dysfunctional in all sorts of random and unexpected ways.

So crazed ultra revolutionary drug addled socialist became crazed ultra independent drug addled separatist.

The Unit I am today, and my own new particular brand of dysfunction was born.

And that’s me chasin’ my tail sayin God Bless America Cats & Kittens until next time on the ol’ Dysu ranch

3 Responses to “Declaration of Dysfunction Article 3 Section II”

  1. […] how to say this quickly…weird-o kid, dreamer, good fer nuthin, had a bad(?) family/home life, left home ran the streets, into weirdo arts etc (mostly writing poems, plays, lame early teens despair and darkness stuff […]

  2. Reblogged this on disfuctionalunit and commented:

    Heres ya go cats n kittens the last part of my Declaration…there is an Addendum to the Articles of Dysfunction I will see if I can get ‘er up tonight but no promises lol…like anyone is going to be to upset if I don’t get it posted for another couple weeks.
    Annnyway hope ya’ll enjoy!

  3. Wasn’t everyone dysfunctional in the 70’s? If you weren’t you weren’t living and if you were living you didn’t know that there were some that weren’t living which brings us round full circle to everyone was dysfunctional in the 70s. 🙂

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