Wr1tt3n0ne

Bunches and bunches
2019-12-09 13:36:41 (UTC)

Tired of Being Called Too Much

I yell. I cuss a blue streak. I am not endlessly chipper and efficient. I lash out when I'm not fully understanding a situation. I can be mean, surely, but I rarely am cruel. I am very intelligent, but as a measure of my intelligence it is all about who I am standing next to. I am not a genius, yep there's a number and I don't qualify, but I am way above average, so we'll call me a dull witted genius or a very smart common man. Think that slacker test result that is the 97 to the 99 percentile, but not perfect. That's me. I can seem pretty smart be depending on who I stand next to, this is a great trick for hiding my weight as well. LOL. I never have managed on any report card my whole life to" work up to potential." I guess they were wrong about my potential. I've got an awesome vocabulary which may or may not be side effect of experimental medication I was given in my early life. I hope it is, I would love to be the Spider-man of words! Children, animals, and life seem to like me well enough that statistically I can be called lucky. Understanding the odds, I don't know what to make of my luck. *Shakes head.*

I understand I have lived an extraordinary life, but not often during it did I consider that to be true. We are all forced to live our lives and still it surprises me how others find my life to be interesting or remarkable. Occasionally, I find it transcendent but not at the moments everyone else does. For me, it is the slowing down of my life to a single crystalline moment, often in nature, or possibly religious, where I am present and I consistently find that to be unique. I can feel more or less connected to my body, shock and meditation take me far from its confines, but pain and sensuality drag me back full force. I could fill pages with the times this or that about me has been called too much. Sometimes, they are correct, my jealousies and insecurities used to run me and other times I find their proclamations self-serving, too sexual, too passionate about what I find important in life, too unrestrained, too blunt? F*ck that and f*ck them. Those statements are said in fights to denigrate the very qualities they had prior to this complimented. For so many years, not considering myself an artist, I suffered with my artistic temperament. Now that I am an artist, I classify writing as art with words, and I also paint, I understand that those too deeply felt and expressed emotions are what the art consists of. Reining them back in, damages my art, so I will not. Instead I try to limit the naysayers in my life and that frees them from my opulent levels of feelings and frees me from their criticisms.

Few of my friends earn my loyalty but those who go the distance with me, find me a ferocious supporter of them and their dreams. I despise gossip. And friend or acquaintance, your secrets are safe with me. I have never and would never share any defining details, and truly only the contours ever pass my lips. I try to live up to being a modern day storyteller, which is about finding and transmitting the truths of life rather than name dropping and gossiping my way through. People who out another's pain for their own amusement sicken me. And I can be an enemy you don't want to have. I've served up revenge ice cold too many times, I struggle with the acceptance of unfair situations mightily. But fair and unfair are constructs that we hope to fall on one side of or the other when in realty all life must contain both. This is merely as type of "There is no dark without light." Still I reserve a special place in H*ll for those who behave unfairly!

To think of all the years of my life I spent being too little, now I relish being too much. Bring it on!




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