You're a bi-polar ostrich that buries its head in the sand to avoid danger, but when pushed too far on the wrong day, you lunge at the agressing force like a rabid badger, spitting fire and destroying all within claw's reach. As an ostrich, you are illogical and evasive, thinking that stretching your neck out will solve all your problems, that people cannot see you when you are hiding in plain sight. It's a wonder you're always surprised when someone takes a bite out of your ass.
Then again, most people are sharks. They circle and shadow, looking for weakness, a moment of perfect attack, then strike; only to find that you taste like shit so spit you back out and leave you to either drown or bleed to death. Sort of like love, only death by carnivore comes more quickly and far less painfully than an attack from that malevolent menace.
Or maybe it's just me. Most days, I'm pretty sure it is.
Your duplicity has petrified my pretense, and anyone nearby might have to laugh when seeing me twitching as nervously as any hare that knows the fox has caught its scent. Language is naught but the playground in which I throw sand at people, and something that you like to bury your head in. Like an ostrich. A bi-polar ostrich. A bi-polar ostrichbadgersharkfoxthingy.
With shitty taste in music.
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Don't fret. I'm not really this crazy. This is a silly, pointless rant about no one. I write these sometimes.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Settling for Mediocrity
The conundrum we all face, those of us who strive for more, is that we cannot settle on having a mediocre life. I, like many adults that have managed to move out of my parents' house on sheer determination to not be That Guy(Gal) who lives in their basement until I'm thirty, work at a job that I hate. It's not just any job, or some boring run-of-the-mill job that I should be thankful for having in our struggling economy. It's a job that has driven many-a-coworker over the edge. Countless times have I heard of coworkers being out on leave for mental reasons, scores more (including myself) are medicated just to keep from throwing up with anxiety in the morning before reporting for work.
So why not quit, one might ask. Money. That's the only reason, and boy do I feel shameful for admitting it, but there you have it. Bills to pay, economy is unstable, unemployment is up, and I've got people who depend on me. I like to daydream that once the kids are grown, I can quit it all and just go hitching my way across Europe. The problem with that dream, however, is that I'm afraid of heights AND the ocean, so how I'm getting there is still a bit of a mystery. Maybe by then, there'll be a supertunnel that goes under the ocean. That way, my feet won't leave the ground.
In the meantime, I've spent the last five years writing. I've written millions of words, all stored away for few to read since I'm certain it's all crap. Purely, one hundred percent, utter, and complete crap. But still... there's that voice that urges me on, telling me to take a chance and risk seeing if I'm being my own worst critic. So, against the odds, I'm out in the void: looking for an agent that doesn't delete my email as soon as they read it.
Go me.
So why not quit, one might ask. Money. That's the only reason, and boy do I feel shameful for admitting it, but there you have it. Bills to pay, economy is unstable, unemployment is up, and I've got people who depend on me. I like to daydream that once the kids are grown, I can quit it all and just go hitching my way across Europe. The problem with that dream, however, is that I'm afraid of heights AND the ocean, so how I'm getting there is still a bit of a mystery. Maybe by then, there'll be a supertunnel that goes under the ocean. That way, my feet won't leave the ground.
In the meantime, I've spent the last five years writing. I've written millions of words, all stored away for few to read since I'm certain it's all crap. Purely, one hundred percent, utter, and complete crap. But still... there's that voice that urges me on, telling me to take a chance and risk seeing if I'm being my own worst critic. So, against the odds, I'm out in the void: looking for an agent that doesn't delete my email as soon as they read it.
Go me.
Friday, January 29, 2010
The Power of Words
It's funny how you can be so sure of something for a very long time, as if nothing in the world would convince you that things could be other than thus...then a simple gesture - or a simple word - can completely undermine everything that you believed.
I believed, for example, that words had power. Words are how we communicate, after all. How can one possibly know what another is thinking without having an exchange of words? Yes, actions and body language...they, too, have their own speech. Yet those resources are lacking in accuracy and it is unwise to rely on those alone.
It seems this belief was wrong on many levels. The absence of words is just as powerful as too many of the them. Also, using the right words or the wrong ones is detrimental to communication. Deception, omission, avoidance, hesitation...these all hinder communication - hinder the power of words.
As it turns out, words have no power. The true power, it seems, is our ability to believe them. I may say that I admire your hat, but it is your ability to believe me that promotes communication. If you believe me to be lying, then we have accomplished nothing. You may say that you are my friend, but then actions - that I interpret through the inaccurate resource that they are- tell me that it is you that had lied to me. So, as important as I always thought words to be, it seems that the true power is in three simple concepts that are easily intertwined; belief, trust, and faith. Do we believe the other person? Do we trust the other person? Do we have faith in them? Words are meaningless without these conditions.
Or at least they are when they are spoken in a personal context. The written word that has no desire to speak to you personally, but merely expresses a thought, an opinion, or an idea...that has power. They are there for your interpretation, to have as much power over you as you are willing to let them have.
I believed, for example, that words had power. Words are how we communicate, after all. How can one possibly know what another is thinking without having an exchange of words? Yes, actions and body language...they, too, have their own speech. Yet those resources are lacking in accuracy and it is unwise to rely on those alone.
It seems this belief was wrong on many levels. The absence of words is just as powerful as too many of the them. Also, using the right words or the wrong ones is detrimental to communication. Deception, omission, avoidance, hesitation...these all hinder communication - hinder the power of words.
As it turns out, words have no power. The true power, it seems, is our ability to believe them. I may say that I admire your hat, but it is your ability to believe me that promotes communication. If you believe me to be lying, then we have accomplished nothing. You may say that you are my friend, but then actions - that I interpret through the inaccurate resource that they are- tell me that it is you that had lied to me. So, as important as I always thought words to be, it seems that the true power is in three simple concepts that are easily intertwined; belief, trust, and faith. Do we believe the other person? Do we trust the other person? Do we have faith in them? Words are meaningless without these conditions.
Or at least they are when they are spoken in a personal context. The written word that has no desire to speak to you personally, but merely expresses a thought, an opinion, or an idea...that has power. They are there for your interpretation, to have as much power over you as you are willing to let them have.
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