VAMPIRES OF THE WOE IS ME

Posting early--the Yankees are playing tonight.

Greetings Hairballers,

Seems I’m on a roll with the undead, semi-dead or whatever they’re called.  Now it’s vampires, who at least have personalities as opposed to zombies, who are nothing more than walking compost heaps.

Last spring I started the Carping Cup because of all the kvetching from everyone, including me.  The Cup isn’t magical, just an empty mixed nut jar that I’ve covered with construction paper.

Every time I find myself complaining over trivia, I toss a quarter in the Cup. Say you hurt my feelings and instead of telling you, I tell someone else.  That only feeds my ego, gathering folks to my side—it’s also gossip.  How fragile are we anyway?

At first, those 25-cent pieces were raining in, now—not so much.

When the total gets above $5, I give it away when I go somewhere that asks for a love donation—over and above what I would contribute normally—a penalty for useless bitching.

Yet the whining goes on.  You hear it—everywhere from the world stage to our personal environs. 

Yes, I know by writing this, I’m complaining about complaining.

Tossing four quarters in the cup now. 

Here's my take:

Vampires of the Woe Is Me©

         FMHorner

The no whining dictum

starts here,

with me, right now

stop the moaning

the constant

drone of useless words

about how everyone

and everything

is wrong but you

want an audience?

go on the stage

or buy a soap box

don’t use

your friends

as a bitching board

forcing them to

hear the same old thing

again and again

you suck away

the energy

from all you touch

like vampires

of the

woe is me

whatever happens

it’s someone else’s fault—

too bad

my ears

are closed

I no longer hear you