So SB washes dishes, Guppy makes PostIts and puts them on her wall, I work out and try to play the guitar.
We all try in our own small ways to feel better, to take control and hope that things aren't spinning out of control. The more conscious we are of how much *really* is out of our control, the more scared we become. Of course, the only solutions is either to remove all muckiness and go for the safe route.
Yes Mom, find me a girl
Fuck that. The other option, in my opinions, and feel free to give me Option C, is acceptance of that fact and knowing you can deal with whatever shit comes your way.
There are two points to this. One is that with the Ex, I tried so hard to to get everything else in order, my job, career etc that I forgot about the 'us'.
The second, that is consequent to the first, is while I thought things were more in control than ever before, the unexpected happened. This led to a spiral that led me to question everything and wonder how much I could 'make it happen'.
Zilch, zippo, nothing.
Of course, instead of acceptance came hesitation and self doubt which led me to all these well, not insecurities but second guessings and being scared of my shadow.
With time has come acceptance (Master of Yoda-speak I am...and a geek on re-reading that). But of course, that doesn't mean I sit back on the couch, pull up a bag of Lays (I hated that name) and see what comes my away apart from the national US epidemic (yes, obesity...what kind of place has obesity as an epi-fucking-demic??)
My point is, it's taken time and I think today, more than ever I have accepted that while I can change a few things, a lot will just happen.
For better or for worse, they will. Bobo, ya hear?!
So...time to busy myself in everything I can control and deal with shit like its a sparring partner, i.e. duck and weave and when its the right time, BLAMO! POW! ZONK! (Holy Saying Actions Batman!)
So...with this, am off to Lala Land where I hope I don't dream of giant bats and my mum falling off the fire escape.
Oh yeah, two nights ago, nightmare...involved a ginormous bat that I found (think three feet) hanging upside down on the towel rack inside my bathroom next to my purple towel, black waxy eyelids covering what could only be red eyes.
And the only other part is watching my mum walk down the grill steps leading from the balcony to the terrace, just her legs in her salwar kameeze, the steps giving way and her plunging.
The only interpretation that makes sense is that I am meant to be Batman. Hence the lingo, practice you see.
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