I haven’t posted in awhile.
Not because I’ve been busy.
Okay, I’ve been busy.
I’ve been SO busy, in fact, that I feel like my world went ass-over-teakettle and I came up wondering #WTF just happened?!
(and by #wtf just happened?!, I mean I shoulda taken the blue pill)
I tell you what happened. I got myself a goddamn goal to take over the world, some cosmic flutter-bye got wind of said plan and thought to itself that it heard the word, “universe” and thus found it apt to throw the entire intergalactic busy-ship of chaos….right at my goddamn head.
Added to this whirlwind of cosmic commotion was the most inopportune event of having a quasi-breakdown right damn smack in the middle of what I just discovered to be the absolute best time of my freakin’ life.
“What the h-e-double toothpicks happened?!”
I’ll tell you what happened.
I tripped over someone else’s perception and landed in a pile of dung.
So, I did what anyone with half a right mind (cuz it doesn’t take full-bodied mental ability to really understand what it is that you want for yourself) would do…I noticed that something stunk, picked myself up, and cleansed my reality of all-that-sucks-bollocks.
[enter the proverbial “Facebook purge”, stage left]
You see, I don’t follow the old adage of, “family first.” In fact, I don’t follow the old adage of “family first,” because I know and understand that *I* am, indeed, first.
[enter collective, audible *gasp*, stage right]
It took me YEARS to understand the difference.
I’m tired of reading how people are always sacrificing, sacrificing, sacrificing…..having psychotic mo-fo breakdowns…..contributing to the instability of their already over-processed, chronically afflicted bodies…all in the name of “old adage.”
Lemme tell it to you straight.
If I am not on my game (and by game, I mean anything that has ANYthing to do with the made-for-tv-movie kind of life I live)…NO ONE…is at their game.
If I sacrifice before my own needs are met, I will be effort-ing in the negative. People pick up on that. No one is happy. Everyone develops the grouchies. I hate those little buggers. LOATHE.
This year, I chose to study a virtue of “Self-discipline.” I have discovered over this half-year that I lack the capacity to effect it from within. I can make a goal, yes. I can attain said goal, yes. But for things OUTside of my physical environment….education, for example. Achieving recognition of a virtuous variety from my community, for example.
Can I take the time for myself that I need in order to regularly refresh and regroup my seriously over-taxed, over-processed mind?
Maybe not. And I must. YOU must. ??? How ???
Well, I have already started my “Healing Through Art.” That’s MY time…an outlet…an opportunity for my creative junkie to get it’s fix.
[enter crickets chirp, stage center]
Dunno. *hangs head*
THAT is my next goal…I’ve got six months left to “study”….
I did, however, try something new at my most recent excursion to a gathering…
Yes. Chronic Badass went all Rambo on a fucking haystack with a bow and arrow.
How’d I do? Pretty fly, actually. But what was MOST frabjous was the feeling….that oozing sensation of empowerment… of awesomeness… of being able to do ANYTHING….
This is how I feel I looked:
This is how I really look:
I knew about bracers.
I knew I wanted that “bow kiss.”
I had NO freakin’ clue that NSAID’s would make the regular bruising oh-so-very horrendous.