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|munkysaurus (profile) wrote, |
on 4-27-2014 at 10:38pm
|Subject: The difference isn't all that different, it's perception that's being percieved...
|You like that title, Mr. J?
Mr. J, I gotta let you in on something.
Here's the thing, you sitting down? We're all scared. There, I said it. However, the thing I've seen is some people use these tools they've built, or acquired. Tenacity and integrity. Those aren't the only ones. But the good ones. And I mean good--like good and evil.
I can state this claim surely.
That fear, that's a driving force I've discovered. For lots of things, maybe everything! The fear is what turns the tide, what shifts the thought, the mind.
I've seen a lot of things, but I'm going to state the appalling thing is what drives most people. Not to stand against this force that is obviously so easily circumvented if a person were to only use a little effort.
Fear, fear, fear. Say it with me. It's causes things to stop, or to never have started with no real logical explanation or reason.
I think I speak for all of us when I say with utmost courtesy: FUCK YOU FEAR!!!
Having said that: I have to say that if I see those who succumb so easily to this feeble creature, this noun that shouldn't be such, I immediately think less of a person. I like to see people face that fucker and ascend what really is a very trivial and stupid thing.
I thought about going back to Ms. E. but I don't think that's an option. She has some things to sort out, and they're things that are more of a self-revelation that something someone who loves her can help her with. The only person who can rise above it is her. It breaks my heart at the thought of cutting her loose but unfortunately I have to do it. Otherwise, I'm marooned on Big-Heart Island waiting for a ticket on a boat that no one knows the name of, which the itinerary has washed away, and sun never sets. Marooned.
So, goodbye for now, or maybe forever, Ms. E. There's things I'll always cherish. That sounds very normal, but I promise you that she was so close. So very close, by the hairs on my fucking chin.
Well, to bed, or to the printed word, or to the flickering screen back lighting the racing thoughts in your brain. You understanding son of bitch.
Peace, for us all if you could. To bring comfort or release to those around the world who need it. Did nature, or God(s), or whoever created us contemplate the horrible nature of being such a conscious species would entail?
Adieu, mon ami.