Fuck

       Fuck.
       I love that word. For so many reasons.
       In this moment, I love it because it made me smile and inspired me to write, and I haven’t written much in a while. So I’m going with whatever moves me at a time when I’m feeling like a ton of dead weight. I’ll play with fire, because I need the light right now.
       Fuck is a powerful word. So powerful, in fact, that its overuse actually diminishes its effectiveness. Used sparingly, peppering your vocabulary with it, is much more effective than littering your speech with the word. Like a bold spice, a little on your food does a lot for the flavor, while too much and you have to spit it out.
       That said, there are cases when the purposeful overuse of the word is very effective, if just for the sake of humor. “Fuck you, you Fuckin’ Fuck” is the phrase that comes to mind.
       To some, the word is unacceptable, no matter what the context. To others, it’s okay in speech, but not in writing. Others will not write the word, but strongly infer it by throwing in an asterisk where the “u” would be, or abbreviate it by using “f’ing”. To each his, or her, own.
       The fact that the word fuck can be used as nearly any form of speech, from personal pronoun to dangling participle, is a a big part of its appeal to those of us who use the word freely. Fuck is fuckin’ versatile.
       It’s not lost on me that, in its original form, the word refers to the rather beautiful act of sex. And thus, like virtually all things in this and many other cultures that refer to sex, there is a stigma, and lots of hang ups, attached to it. For me, The word “kill” is much more repulsive than the word “fuck”, but the word “kill” is perfectly acceptable in any and all contexts. I’m not suggesting that we be as free as using the word “fuck” as we are with the word “kill”, because, as I said, fuck is better used as a spice rather than a main course. I’m just illustrating the point that the connotation or suggestion of violence is much more acceptable to us than the connotation or suggestion of sex.
       The sound of the word fuck is aggressive, because it’s one syllable, and ends with the “K” sound. That aggression is part of the word’s appeal, and part of its problem. It’s almost impossible to use the word and sound tender and soft. Even if you whisper into your lover’s ear, as you're nibbling on it, while you gently make love to her, “I fuckin’ love the way you taste, baby”, there’s going to be just a hint of aggression there. That’s not a bad thing. There are times when you want to be completely tender and gentle, and there are times when you want to be tender and gentle with just a smidgen of an edge in there. The word fuck, placed properly in the structure of your phrasing, and not emphasized, but just said matter of factly, can achieve that. Again, a versatile word.
       So here’s to a wonderful word; a word that I will continue to use and appreciate, in all its expressive glory. A word that gets a bad rap. A word that helped me, this morning, do something I love to do, but that I sometimes have trouble getting out of my own way to do. And that’s to write. And to express.
       A word that gave me life over fifty years ago, and gave me life again this morning.
       Fuck. Where would I be without you?


©2013 Cint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All fuckin’ rights reserved.

Declare Your Affections

       Someone close to me bought me a very cool book called How To Be Interesting. It’s one of those caring, yet tongue in cheek gifts. Because, although the book contains many pages of insightful, witty, truthful, and poignant writing, she points out to me that I’m already “Super Interesting”. Well thank you. That’s a great compliment.
       One of the pages says “Declare Your Affections. It takes a very brave person to be emotionally vulnerable. It takes a strong spirit to go weak in the knees.”
      Amen to that. Nice to know I’m not alone in those very powerful sentiments.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publihig. All rights reserved.

Two Close

Don’t get too close
You may not like what you see
Don’t get too far away either
And then abandon me

Don’t ask too many questions
Then I won’t have to lie
Just know enough about me
So when I want to I can hide

When we’re making love
I can’t stare into your eyes
It’s too scary for me
To be seen so deep inside

When you want more of me
I’m likely to shut down
Letting you in so close
Makes me feel like I’ll drown

I want to be beautiful
You think I am
Why can’t I believe you
You tell me I can

The closer we get
I am more terrified
Even though the air that love breathes
Is so rarified

            - Clint Piatelli

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleJeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Super Hero Sensibility

       Two of my close friends were kibitzing via text one day. One of them asked the other “Why does Clint wear so many super hero t-shirts?” The other responded “I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out.”.
       When one of my friends told me about this exchange, I chuckled. Then she asked me, point blank, about the super hero shirts. I thought about the question, but only for literally, a few seconds. I wanted my response to be raw and spontaneous, not over thought. So I said, “Could it be as simple as the fact that I find them really fun to wear, and I like how they look on me?”.
       On the surface level, it really is that simple. As always, though, I like to dig deeper and get to more. And although there are a lot of layers to me, probably more than there are with most, we are all multi layered beings. I find it fascinating, exciting, revealing, and fun, to do a deep dive and uncover more about what people are about; more about what’s going on inside them; to a place of deeper truth. It is a wonderful way to connect to someone, on a deeper level, a more intimate level, and it helps me understand them.
       It also helps them understand themselves better. Or at least, it has great potential for that. How often are we asked to go deeper into ourselves and get to something else? Not often enough, I say. When there is an exchange between two or more people, whether I’m asking you to go deeper or you’re asking me, there is great opportunity for both of us to discover more about each other, about ourselves, and indeed about the relationship. That’s a beautiful thing. It’s a stepping stone to a deeper friendship, or a deeper love, because of the very true phrase “Love Through Understanding”. We have the chance to love each other more when we understand each other. And we have the chance to love ourselves more when we understand ourselves better as well.
        If I dig a little deeper into the super hero t-shirt question, I find that the fun element has more to it. What exactly is “fun” about wearing the symbol of The Flash? It speaks to something deeper about me. I thrive on engaging people, on connecting to people. And my Flash t-shirt helps me do that. Because it illicits a response from some. And that response is a connection. A brief one sometimes. like someone saying to me “The Flash!”. I smile at them, point, sometimes give them a high five, and that’s it. But that feels good to me. For a brief moment in time, I engage and connect to a complete stranger. The world doesn’t seem so big and scary. I don’t feel so separate from all of humankind. I experience a oneness and a sense of community with this person, and indeed, the entire world, in that brief moment. All from that little, seemingly insignificant interaction. All from wearing a super hero t-shirt.
       Sometimes that brief connection leads to a whole conversation, which leads to a little deeper connection, an exchange of ideas, emotions, and even phone numbers. All because I decided to wear the bright red t-shirt with the lightning bolt on it instead of the black one with an embossed alligator over the nipple. Well, truth be told, I actually don’t own any of those alligator shirts. But you get the point.
       There are, I’m sure, those who look at me in my super hero t-shirt and make fun of me. Not to my face, but to themselves, or to their buddy sitting next to them. I’ve felt the hostile stares from some. That’s the risk you run when you do something, anything, even slightly outside the norm, or different, or unconventional. My preference would be to somehow connect to those people who are judging or ridiculing me. Many of them wouldn’t be interested in getting to know the person they are directing such negativity towards, but some would. Wouldn’t it be great if one of them came up to me and asked me “What is up with the shirt?”. That would start a conversation. And that conversation could lead to a connection, and who knows what else.
       I understand why most people would never do that. But I raise it as a possibility, and to illustrate a point. And to say that I personally would not find that kind of behavior strange or off putting. Different, yes, but I would welcome it. It would give me a chance to connect to another person. To get to know them a little better. They would have the opportunity to know me a little better too. They may, after a conversation, understand me better. And that may lead to a mutual feeling of connection to humanity, and a sense that we are all in this thing together. And as I’ve said, that’s a beautiful experience. Maybe it would be for them too.
       There’s also the possibility that they walk away from the conversation thinking I’m a complete jackass. That’s the chance you take when you risk engagement and attempt to connect to another. There’s no guarantee for success. Which is another reason why people don’t do it more often.
        Kids connect to super heroes because they represent something exciting, powerful, and larger than life. I still connect strongly to those concepts, and therefore still connect to t-shirts with super hero logos on them. I haven’t lost my ability to relate to fantasy and magic. Magic is indeed everywhere. We just have to be open to it; we have to turn up the gain on our Internal Magic Radar Detector. It’s in the sky at sunset. It’s in the smile a friend gives you when they greet you. It’s in your lover’s desire for you in the bedroom.
       And it’s in my Green Lantern t-shirt........


©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.  

The Rock Star

       The Rock Star. I’m talking the real Rock Star. Not the poseur. Not the one who’s faking it. Not the phony one with no soul. Not the one who’s just acting. Those are called boy bands.
       The Rock Star I’m describing is the one who plays from his heart, from the depths of his emotional substance. He’s the one up there on stage, bleeding for his audience. He’s bearing his soul, and exorcising his emotional demons in front of tens, or hundreds, or thousands. A model of vulnerability, letting it all hang out.
       It is through that vulnerability that he connects to us. He’s showing us who and what he is in this moment, allowing us to peer inside, and see all of him. Real and authentic and doing it in front of as many people as he can.
       Like his music or not, that kind of exposure takes courage. That kind of exposure has Thrasos (in Greek mythology, Thrasos was the personified concept of boldness). Pouring his soul in front of a crowd has a gravitas that we connect to. The Rock Star is a vast spectacle of human behavior and human emotion. He writes music from the depths of his soul and then has the audacity to perform it on stage, to share it with the world. For all to see. How fuckin’ outrageous.
       No wonder we love the Rock Star.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.