it’s a fact, I don’t trust you. Anyone to be frank. The days when I hoped and believed there was at least one person in this world I could trust are gone. Every time I’ve taken a chance it’s ended pretty much the same.

I’m not even sure there’s a way someone could prove they deserve my trust.

Not any more.

I can’t come even close to guessing how many times I’ve been wracked by tears I can no longer control, it’s hard sometimes, it’s so easy to give in and just endure. lol… they say that tears can cleanse a soul, but it’s never worked that way, not for me.

So I’ll live in this fantasy I’ve created, one where I no longer have to believe,and I’ll cry when what I see reminds me of what I’ll never have, and forget all the times I was betrayed or just gave up.

It’s what I choose, it’s not the truth, just my perspective.

But, it’s as close as I’ll ever get…

There’s a secret that most people never learn.

I forget it all too often myself, even when I keep reminding myself of it’s power.

I don’t remember when I first stumbled across it, but I do remember how it made me feel. It was one of the most invigorating moments in my life, yet it’s far too easy to dismiss. It’s a fairy simple concept, which is one of the reasons it’s forgotten too often.

The principle is ‘acceptance.’

The first time I came across it, it was in an article about improvisational comedy. It was talking about the most basic element that would make or break a scene. You see, for comedy to work, each character has to build on the work of the actor before them, no matter how absurd. Anything that rejects what came before kills the scene. Kills the story. In comedy it’s that continuing absurdity, ongoing and building, that keeps an audience involved, laughing, leaning forward in their seats, not just wanting to see what’s next, but demanding it.

The thing is, acceptance is also behind almost every part of our lives and society.

When we see an advertisement on TV and accept what it says, we go out and buy the product.
When we accept that a leader does know better than us, we follow.
When we accept that we are different because of our color, religion, sex, ethnicity… we choose to be different. We choose to ignore, shun, denigrate, even hate those we don’t accept.
When we accept that everyone is different than us, we can also accept the fact that just because we are all different does not mean that we, or they, are wrong, or evil, or damned…

Can we accept this?
Can I?

Hmmm… time will tell.

For what it’s worth…

I have a cataract in my right eye. It’s very advanced. For all intent’s and purposes I am blind in my right eye until I can get the surgery done. Of course since I have no health insurance that’s going to take a while. The VA will do it, but it will be at least October before they can get me in, so, for now, it’s just wait. It’s pretty much what I expected, I’ve been noticing the change for months but I’d just shrug it off , not a real problem.

It’ll happen, the surgery, I just have to wait for a while.

On other fronts…

I’ve started throwing pottery again, not a lot yet, but it feels good to be doing something with my hands again. I’ve missed that. Just small stuff right now while I build up the strength in my left arm again. I’ll take some pictures in a few weeks.

I’ve been making notes on story ideas. Even getting some started. As always though, it is the lack of motivation to keep working on a story that holds me back. Ha…. I’m a writer, if there’s no audience why bother with all the work. It’s far too easy to just let my mind tell the story in my head where I don’t have to work out all the details.

ehh… I guess we’ll see what changes with the new version of Xanga soon…

I think one of the ironies of life is that no matter how much you want things to stay as they are, life changes. Wounds heal, memories fade, new paths open, old ones close… Another irony is that as often as we don’t want things to change, we seem to grasp at ever fleeting chance to change how we see our future. It’s almost impossible for me to see all the things I’ve wished would change, I’m too wrapped up  in them, too close to see more than these desires that always seem to cloud my horizon.

It’s odd, well, not really, how I’m focused on what I see right now. Wednesday I go to the eye doctor. My right eye is not good, and getting worse almost daily now. It’s not so much fear I feel, but …

No, it’s not fear… but I don’t seem to be able to put it into words.

“I hate nice girls. Just exchanging greetings with them will get them on your mind. Start texting each other, and your heart will be set a flutter. If they call you, you’re done for. Enjoy staring at your logs and grinning like a fool. However, I won’t get fooled again. That’s what your kind calls kindness. If you’re nice to me, you’re also nice to others. I always end up nearly forgetting that. Reality is cruel, so I’m sure lies are a form of kindness. Thus, I say kindness itself is also a lie. I always ended up with these expectations, and I always ended up (with) these misunderstandings. And before I knew it, I stopped hoping. A highly trained loner is once bitten, twice shy. As a veteran on this battlefield of life, I’ve gotten used to losing. That’s why I’ll always… hate nice girls.”

It’s not often that I find something that matches what I feel…

The truth, though, isn’t that I hate ‘nice’ girls… I don’t trust them. I don’t trust them because the kindness is a lie.

When I think back…

there have always been reasons why I didn’t follow through with so many things I wish I had finished. Always. But what was really happening all those times wasn’t what I wanted it to seem, it was always just my attempt at finding any rationalization I could, any excuse, to allow myself to fail. Again.

I see it every day I go to work, every day I look at the world, every time I look at some thing I’ve started, but never finished, the worry that keeps me, us, from taking a chance, from stepping beyond what we’re sure of into the unknown.

Worry is a poison, born of fear, that supplies us with a never ending list of things that “might” go wrong. It doesn’t, and never will, make tomorrow one bit better than today,  in fact, it robs us of our will to make tomorrow any better, it buries our dreams and hopes so deeply that they won’t be able to grow. It robs us of our chance to find out if we can be happy.

It makes me wonder…

why is it that there are so many ways that we are told “what we should” be worried about.

I find it disconcerting how easy it is for life to allow me to do  less, accomplish nothing, and fill the days with the banal trash most of humanity seems engrossed in. It’s frustrating and in the moments when I catch myself, it disgusts me at my lack of gumption. Oh, there are excuses, there always are, we humans are masters at rationalizing, we can always find some way to shove own own weaknesses on something else.

“If it’s important to you, you WILL find a way. If it’s not, you’ll find an excuse.”

That’s what I see every time I use my phone. A reminder. One that just like most of us, I tend to ignore. Until something smacks me in the back of the head again and rattles my brain for a while. Then I remember, and promise to get back to work… until…

yeah, it’s that “until” that’s the killer.

Well, let’s see if I can get past that.

One of the most important things about language is a shared lexicon of definitions. If we don’t agree on those definitions there is no way we can ever communicate in any meaningful way, all we’ll convey will be trivial things, superficial ideas and crude behaviors. It’s the most important part of society, but the least understood by the great majority of us.

So, define: normal

lmao…

No matter how hard you try, nothing is ever guaranteed. No matter what you dream, some things will always be beyond your reach. No matter the effort,or preparation, accidents and error will always play a role in the events of our lives. And even when things seem perfect, when you look at those around you, you will find misunderstanding and confusion as often as joy and clear communication.

Ever our best efforts can fail.

It’s that possibility of failure that makes it so hard to take a chance. It’s that fear of failure that holds us back from our dreams and our hopes, makes a mockery of all the time, sweat and tears we’ve endured.

Ah, what might have been…

It’s simple… we can never know what might have been, because we never took the chance. Well, there were those times…

I remember the joy.

I remember the sense of adventure.

I remember the anticipation.

I remember the dream, even now, long after it failed me.