Tatoos make good massage therapist entertainment.

I was tired, bored, sore, disgruntled and somewhat nauseous(shouldn't gone for the Serene's tempura, but she dangled it in front o' me and all I had brought was humus, chips n' a baby bok choy).

So, anyway, I was in a sorta shitty end of an endless week mood-don't tell my clients 'k?-and had two massages to go before my friday night shift was over.

So this towelclad dude, my next client, swaggers in. Well, maybe it wasn't really a swagger, I guess it's hard for a massive longshoreman to move without a bit of a lurch in his gait.

In my bitchyass mood, I was thinking: Oh great, how'm I gonna dig into that gigantic lump of neckless muscle without killing myself?(really folks, I LOVE massage, I do! it was just the MOOD talking).

He was actually quite entertaining. For one thing, he was covered in tatoos. It's kinda fun petrissaging when it makes the naked angelhottie wiggle, or doing some long, smooth friction down Jesus, effleuraging dragons...

And he got me talking about art... Rambling, in fact. It's funny how sometimes you find yourself saying the most incredibly meaningful things to a complete stranger out of the blue.

Massage sort of sets the scene for intimate sharing yo.

Well, I was in a slightly better frame of mind when I dashed down the stairs for to catch the 71. It leaves at 9:06. I get off at 9:00 and if my last client doesn't take too long getting they sleepyfreshlymassaged butts off the table, I can just whip in, change the sheets, grab my gear, return my oil bottle to it's handy-dandy shelf and hightail it out the door.

I pulled it off tonight, 'cept that I ended up squirming at the bustop 'cause I didn't hit the bathroom on my flight down and I left my backpack in the hall, damn it.

It's always an mind-bending experience hanging alongside the bratpack of homeless teens strewn about the bustops. Tonight was no exception.

dude one: '-she's not your girlfriend anymore, dude.'

dude two: '-so? I'll get that kindo booty whenever I can, if I just had some goddamn place to go!'

dudette: 'You could go to the movies.'

dude two(indignantly): 'That costs money!'

dude one: 'There's that mattress... Out behind...'

dudette: 'Dude! That things been there forever... It's GROSS!'

Man, oh man. What is the world coming to if boys won't even cough up $8 for booty?

But seriously, what kinda hell must a girl be running from to put her so low that she'd give her body, her softness, her tender feelings, to such a feckless kid?

I hear shit there every week that just makes me so angry.

People fuck each other up as if it's their godgiven right. That's life, I guess, life sucks. That's just how it is...

Bullshit.

People, we choose how to live. Every goddamn moment of every day we can make a new choice, decide not to be an asshole, not to add to the fucked upness of the world.

We are not helpless!

Don't blind yourself.

Don't play it like a helpless child.

Be strong. Find your core, your integrity, your balance.

Play it one day, one moment at a time if you have to.

Grow it, strengthen the positive, release the negative...

Do as much good in the world as you can.

I know life ain't easy. But it's not impossible! sometimes it hurts so bad you want to claw your heart right out of your chest, but it will pass. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen you will get better, and be bigger and stronger and more capable, wiser even...

Just hang in there.

Keep planting seeds.

Persevere.

It's worth every minute.