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Faux Excuberance…and other stuff I wasn’t honest about…

So….

I’ve been cooped up sick for the last three days. I’ve spent a lot of time tweeting, texting, no talking because I sound like  a damn fog horn, but communicating with the outside world nonetheless. In this brief moment of quarantine, I’ve learned a lot, but the most important thing was that, I’m a pretty good liar. When asked the question of “How are you?” casually by anyone during these last few days, my response has been, “Great! How are you?”

Wait!

Didn’t I say I was just home sick for the last few days? Yes, and that’s the truth, so why was it that I couldn’t just say to these cats that have asked a simple question, “Dude, I’m ridiculously ill at the moment.”

What’s so hard about being honest with that?

My initial response would be nothing. The analytical response would be, because you’ve been so use to telling people what they want to hear, you’ve never spent the time or thought telling them what was real.

This is a problem.

Why?tumblr_lzb6ktR7Ui1r2mytio1_500

Cool your jets, I’m getting there.

It’s a problem because, I pride myself on being a straight shooter. A shooter that pulls the proverbial gun from the holster and shoots straight from the hip, but with the aforesaid realization, it turns out that I’m completely wrong. I think I lift the gun with my none stable hand, aim it off to the side, and hope to miss. I’ve done no one a service by this, if anything a grave disservice.

I should’ve said “Hey, idiot, that hurt me.” when it hurt.

I should’ve said, “No, I don’t like this.” when I didn’t like it.

I should’ve said, “You’re wrong,” when I knew you were wrong.

I didn’t, thus the disservice.

My answers were, “No, I’m okay.” when I wasn’t. My answers were, “Oh, I think it’s all right.” when it wasn’t. Lastly, my answers were, “Maybe you’re right.” when clearly you weren’t.

That sounds a bit like a sickness.

I read a tweet recently by a young woman who I follow, and I have no idea who she is, I caught a quote of hers by a retweet and curiosity led me to follow her to see if there was more witty banter where that came from. Anyway, the basis of the quote was “be yourself and not who you think they want you to be.” It wasn’t until about the middle of this post that I realized the reason for that little phrase hitting me so hard, and that was because, I absolutely needed to read that. I’ve been too busy pleasing you, that I haven’t spent enough time pleasing me. So long trying to do what I thought you wanted me to do, not enough time doing what I wanted to do.

When, in the process of living, had I decided that my feelings, wants, needs, didn’t matter? Well, I suppose that during this exploration of all that I am, I’ll gain the answer. In the meantime, however, that’s a bit to chew on. Plus, I need to wrap this up, because the Bugs Bunny with the red hairy monster thing is on, and that’s my favorite, and that’s the truth!

Until then…

Vive Sine Paenitentia

Res Ipsa Loquitur

~Uncaught Recidivist

Oh yeah…have any of you found yourself in a similar situation, if so, I’d love to hear it…and I promise you won’t find yourself in one of my future stories….well maybe not yourself, but I can’t promise I won’t liken a character after you! Just saying! *Shrugs shoulder*

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The Blah Conundrum…and other missing pieces

Was it for this I uttered prayers,
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,
That now, domestic as a plate,
I should retire at half-past eight?

~ Grown-up, Edna St. Vincent Millay

The idea to blog isn’t new to me, it’s just that today the idea became a bit more attractive. Dressed and sexy. After a proper downward spiral into the abysmal in which I’ve created to be a life, the idea of getting people involved in my world started to make me tingle. “Why not?” some inner voice asked—one of many—prompting my sane self to give it thought.
Thought. Thought? Thought!
That is most certainly the derision of my procrastination. Thought. I’ve spent much of my life thinking about it, that, those, this, things in general and not enough acting upon it, and so…I acted. For the first time in many moons, I acted. Not that I’m a couch potato type gal…well at least not in my head, I am, however, perhaps, a slow starter. And I, quite frankly, am okay with that. Enlied the problem. My inward motto has been “Satisfaction is the bullet into the head of success.” Stay with me here, really, I’m going somewhere. Have you ever taken the time to wonder how, “they got there” and how “you ended up here”? No? Just me? That’s fine, I’m used to the oneness, I’m an only child, so I’ll paddle through this anyway. To answer the question…yes, I have, many times over and it wasn’t until this very day, this very night, this very minute that I received the answer. And that was, successful people are never satisfied. I am now thirty-one years past my birth and up until recently, all I’ve ever wanted to be was satisfied. Is that just the most insane shit that you’ve ever read? I mean seriously, have you ever laid eyes on such utterly ridiculous and filthy rhetoric? Fodder? Gibberish? Listen, there’s no need to enumerate or shake your pretentious, all-knowing heads in disgust. So, I’m late to the party, the point is, I’m here. Yes, world (that means you) I just wanted to be satisfied and as I worked different job after different job after finishing with school for the moment, I sought satisfaction only to be displaced by such natural disasters as being okay, settled, and swallow this for kicks and giggles, just fine. Those three words should be banned from the vocabulary! I’m serious. When was the last time you saw someone who was in their minds successful being just okay, just settling and all right being just fine. My guess, never, and so in lieu of prolonging this post a moment more and to give my thumbs a rest (posting from my blackberry—duh, they still exist) I am here today to renounce satisfaction. I don’t want to be satisfied! I want to be successful…I just don’t know in what? Thus, the Blah Conundrum…

Res Ipsa Loquitur,
~Uncaught Recidivist