Before I Kill You, Mr. Bond.....

 "You've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by the combined mental and spiritual resources of the enlightened people of the galaxy or by swinging from the doorframe and kicking people in the gut."... Eureka! This is true!

So I sit at my desk wondering what it is about this whole "technology" marvel that makes me emotionally vomit without a second thought or editing mark. Is it that, quite simply, my reputation precedes me in such a manner that very little will come as a surprise anyhow? I previously mentioned the shitty conversationalist that was my pet rock.... Alas, I don't even OWN a pet rock, so perhaps that was a metaphor for the stuffed cthulhu hanging immediately to my right. He's shooting me quite the dagger-filled glare at the moment, but I think we all know he's to blame.

Could it be, I've gotten so entertainingly used to finding, mid-conversation, that my "audience" possesses little more than glazed-over look, that I feel a need to toss in bits of inappropriate content in the name of self-entertainment? Ahhhh.... I think we've stumbled upon something, here. I hold no preconceptions that I am fascinating or even worth so much as general acknowledgement. After all, if you keep your expectations disgustingly low, you'll always be pleasantly surprised, no? Oh no, these words are no longer spoken from the depths of pity or sorrow. Rather, I find it's less damning to meander through life less affected by the reactions or judgements of others. The words I speak and the actions I flamboyantly exhibit are done solely for Yours Truly. In the grand scheme of things, very few will understand my passions, pet-peeves, ponderings or preferences. And that's OK. In support of my new findings, the wrapper on the small and delightful chocolate I just consumed advises "It's OK to be fabulous AND flawed"!

Having spent far too many years as an obedient and frivolous doormat, I'm slowly learning to rely less and less on the approvals of others (keep in mind, there is one hell of a learning curve to this one). On a smaller and more insignificant scale, approval is a bit of my proverbial white whale. Only when I stopped trying to impress my family, did I achieve a weird sort of honorable status in their eyes. The less I give a f*ck, the more I unwittingly demand respect. There appears to be some credibility in this pesky "confidence" notion. I still respectfully refuse to label it as such, but I'm so far willing to accept the similarities.

So there you have it. I have decided I'm an organic sort of fungus. In fact, I put the "fun" in fungus, goddamnit! I will continue on my little path... blabbering at illuminated screens and people on the streets alike.... and if the general public is appalled by my ticker-tape parades and melodramatic nonsensery,  they are free to subscribe to another newsletter entirely (translation: stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it!). :) And A Very Happy Monday To ALL!

Affectionately Yours,
-Mrs. W.I.P. (Work In Progress)


No comments:

Post a Comment

Kitty

Monday, March 21, 2011

Before I Kill You, Mr. Bond.....

 "You've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by the combined mental and spiritual resources of the enlightened people of the galaxy or by swinging from the doorframe and kicking people in the gut."... Eureka! This is true!

So I sit at my desk wondering what it is about this whole "technology" marvel that makes me emotionally vomit without a second thought or editing mark. Is it that, quite simply, my reputation precedes me in such a manner that very little will come as a surprise anyhow? I previously mentioned the shitty conversationalist that was my pet rock.... Alas, I don't even OWN a pet rock, so perhaps that was a metaphor for the stuffed cthulhu hanging immediately to my right. He's shooting me quite the dagger-filled glare at the moment, but I think we all know he's to blame.

Could it be, I've gotten so entertainingly used to finding, mid-conversation, that my "audience" possesses little more than glazed-over look, that I feel a need to toss in bits of inappropriate content in the name of self-entertainment? Ahhhh.... I think we've stumbled upon something, here. I hold no preconceptions that I am fascinating or even worth so much as general acknowledgement. After all, if you keep your expectations disgustingly low, you'll always be pleasantly surprised, no? Oh no, these words are no longer spoken from the depths of pity or sorrow. Rather, I find it's less damning to meander through life less affected by the reactions or judgements of others. The words I speak and the actions I flamboyantly exhibit are done solely for Yours Truly. In the grand scheme of things, very few will understand my passions, pet-peeves, ponderings or preferences. And that's OK. In support of my new findings, the wrapper on the small and delightful chocolate I just consumed advises "It's OK to be fabulous AND flawed"!

Having spent far too many years as an obedient and frivolous doormat, I'm slowly learning to rely less and less on the approvals of others (keep in mind, there is one hell of a learning curve to this one). On a smaller and more insignificant scale, approval is a bit of my proverbial white whale. Only when I stopped trying to impress my family, did I achieve a weird sort of honorable status in their eyes. The less I give a f*ck, the more I unwittingly demand respect. There appears to be some credibility in this pesky "confidence" notion. I still respectfully refuse to label it as such, but I'm so far willing to accept the similarities.

So there you have it. I have decided I'm an organic sort of fungus. In fact, I put the "fun" in fungus, goddamnit! I will continue on my little path... blabbering at illuminated screens and people on the streets alike.... and if the general public is appalled by my ticker-tape parades and melodramatic nonsensery,  they are free to subscribe to another newsletter entirely (translation: stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it!). :) And A Very Happy Monday To ALL!

Affectionately Yours,
-Mrs. W.I.P. (Work In Progress)


No comments:

Post a Comment