Shoot First, Ask Questions Later

"Fortune will smile upon you this week, only it'll do so in that shitty, passive-aggressive way Fortune has of smilingyou know the kind where you can tell it's just being polite, but that, really, it doesn't give a damn about how you're actually doing. Ugh, seriously, fuck Fortune. "

*snicker* This horoscope pretty well sums up a typical day in the life of Yours Truly. I'm quite convinced that I have driven more people away after confrontations involving the spoils of an argument I had in my head. Given a free moment, I can over think something to death - given so much as a moment AFTER that, I voice it. One would assume I had undergone surgery to permanently insert a foot in my mouth.



In any given day, I can think of AT LEAST 5 instances where I wish I could throw some sort of magical lasso around the words that escaped my mouth or that e-mail I inadvertently sent. Perhaps that should be the superhero power I pray to random woodland imps for. I'm not really sure why I'm under the impression woodland imps have the authority to make that sort of thing happen... and there it is again. I over think and over analyze even the most pitiful shit! WHY!? And why can't I restrain myself from telling the world about it? On the bright side, most of the world is still oblivious to all the ramblings that escape my lips and/or fingers. As for the rest, they've either accepted and embraced my lunacy or have learned to graciously tune it out.



I remember coming home from school one day... I was probably around 6 or 7....before I was even across that threshold to the house, I was ready to share every last detail of the oh-so-exciting life of an elementary school twit. Before I could verbally vomit on anyone who met my gaze, my dad was standing there with a gentle smile and a present for me. (***Note from the Author: This was to be the first in a long line of self-help/self-improvement books not-so-subtly gifted to Ninja Kitty***)



"Gabby".

It was actually a really brilliant read - and with supplemental literature to a similar effect, I began to get the hint. The premise of this particular story revolved around a fuzzy little rotund creature who had succeeded in annoying everyone around her until she found herself very rejected, sad and ultimately alone. One day, she encountered a kind, gentle snake who had tasted her tears from afar and was drawn to Gabby's sorrow. The snake laid out a plan for the poor, pitiful creature: Each day, Gabby would see all she can see and experience all there was to experience. This was to be accomplished in silent observation - metaphorically filling her pail with the liquid of life. Each evening, Gabby would return to the blind snake and empty the pail into her well so the snake could "see" all the world had to offer. It was a beneficial situation for each and Gabby learned to take in everything around her with new appreciation and patience. To do more than listen - to actually hear.



In so much as recalling this book, I am filled with the warm glow of embracing a lesson long ago learned and since forgotten. I suppose this blogishness has become my well. I would surely benefit from refraining from spilling the contents of that bucket all over the place on the journey home each evening. I am actually quietly giggling right now at the sudden epiphany that took place throughout my ramblings. After all, much of my insecurities of alienation are a direct result of saying too much to those I encounter each day. Often, there is a need to keep that wall in place to minimize the fragility of complete honesty. The more exposure I not only allow upon myself, but almost guarantee in everyday interactions, the more intense and numerous aforementioned insecurities.

There are no unreal expectations that a change will be immediate. Yet the goal is attainable and offers the hopes of being beneficial. So there you have it. Another day in the life of that silly head of mine.

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Kitty

Monday, May 16, 2011

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later

"Fortune will smile upon you this week, only it'll do so in that shitty, passive-aggressive way Fortune has of smilingyou know the kind where you can tell it's just being polite, but that, really, it doesn't give a damn about how you're actually doing. Ugh, seriously, fuck Fortune. "

*snicker* This horoscope pretty well sums up a typical day in the life of Yours Truly. I'm quite convinced that I have driven more people away after confrontations involving the spoils of an argument I had in my head. Given a free moment, I can over think something to death - given so much as a moment AFTER that, I voice it. One would assume I had undergone surgery to permanently insert a foot in my mouth.



In any given day, I can think of AT LEAST 5 instances where I wish I could throw some sort of magical lasso around the words that escaped my mouth or that e-mail I inadvertently sent. Perhaps that should be the superhero power I pray to random woodland imps for. I'm not really sure why I'm under the impression woodland imps have the authority to make that sort of thing happen... and there it is again. I over think and over analyze even the most pitiful shit! WHY!? And why can't I restrain myself from telling the world about it? On the bright side, most of the world is still oblivious to all the ramblings that escape my lips and/or fingers. As for the rest, they've either accepted and embraced my lunacy or have learned to graciously tune it out.



I remember coming home from school one day... I was probably around 6 or 7....before I was even across that threshold to the house, I was ready to share every last detail of the oh-so-exciting life of an elementary school twit. Before I could verbally vomit on anyone who met my gaze, my dad was standing there with a gentle smile and a present for me. (***Note from the Author: This was to be the first in a long line of self-help/self-improvement books not-so-subtly gifted to Ninja Kitty***)



"Gabby".

It was actually a really brilliant read - and with supplemental literature to a similar effect, I began to get the hint. The premise of this particular story revolved around a fuzzy little rotund creature who had succeeded in annoying everyone around her until she found herself very rejected, sad and ultimately alone. One day, she encountered a kind, gentle snake who had tasted her tears from afar and was drawn to Gabby's sorrow. The snake laid out a plan for the poor, pitiful creature: Each day, Gabby would see all she can see and experience all there was to experience. This was to be accomplished in silent observation - metaphorically filling her pail with the liquid of life. Each evening, Gabby would return to the blind snake and empty the pail into her well so the snake could "see" all the world had to offer. It was a beneficial situation for each and Gabby learned to take in everything around her with new appreciation and patience. To do more than listen - to actually hear.



In so much as recalling this book, I am filled with the warm glow of embracing a lesson long ago learned and since forgotten. I suppose this blogishness has become my well. I would surely benefit from refraining from spilling the contents of that bucket all over the place on the journey home each evening. I am actually quietly giggling right now at the sudden epiphany that took place throughout my ramblings. After all, much of my insecurities of alienation are a direct result of saying too much to those I encounter each day. Often, there is a need to keep that wall in place to minimize the fragility of complete honesty. The more exposure I not only allow upon myself, but almost guarantee in everyday interactions, the more intense and numerous aforementioned insecurities.

There are no unreal expectations that a change will be immediate. Yet the goal is attainable and offers the hopes of being beneficial. So there you have it. Another day in the life of that silly head of mine.

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