"Hold Our Secrets Up to the Sky"
Over the last few days, I've gotten into a kick of asserting that I am, indeed, a Wimpy McWimperson. Because I am a wimp. I'm not lying.
However (take THAT, Gutwalt... beginning a sentence with however), I feel I might be misrepresenting myself slightly. Enjoy what I am about to do, because it is a rare thing that I will take off a mask and show people what's truly underneath. Especially when I've so conveniently created a new one for myself, one that people readily accept. I guess I look like a wimp. My counter: at least I'm not a pansy boy who would wear an Abercrombie shirt to Warped Tour.
I like to think of myself as a wimp, which is how this entire thing started. I like to think that I cower in fear at the thought of any pain. Which is true sometimes. For instance, if someone offered to shoot me... okay, bad example. I've always wondered what it feels like to be shot, so if someone offered to shoot me in the arm or the leg, I might accept. But if someone offered to stab me, I would run away screaming and never talk to that person again. Not always a bad thing, considering this person has just offered to STAB me. What a freak! How does my mind invent people like this?
The point of all this, creepy people aside, is that I like to sell myself short and think that I'm not brave. But I can be when I see it as worth it. I would take the stabbing for a friend. I would probably scream and cower and snivel, but I would do it. I would risk myself for something worthwhile. Certainly there will be times where I will run away, but there are times where I am tenacious and unbreakable. It's good for me to come to terms with that braver side of me.
And it's always nice to know that my life has a funny habit of always working out. I don't know why this is, but maybe I should take up gambling.
However (take THAT, Gutwalt... beginning a sentence with however), I feel I might be misrepresenting myself slightly. Enjoy what I am about to do, because it is a rare thing that I will take off a mask and show people what's truly underneath. Especially when I've so conveniently created a new one for myself, one that people readily accept. I guess I look like a wimp. My counter: at least I'm not a pansy boy who would wear an Abercrombie shirt to Warped Tour.
I like to think of myself as a wimp, which is how this entire thing started. I like to think that I cower in fear at the thought of any pain. Which is true sometimes. For instance, if someone offered to shoot me... okay, bad example. I've always wondered what it feels like to be shot, so if someone offered to shoot me in the arm or the leg, I might accept. But if someone offered to stab me, I would run away screaming and never talk to that person again. Not always a bad thing, considering this person has just offered to STAB me. What a freak! How does my mind invent people like this?
The point of all this, creepy people aside, is that I like to sell myself short and think that I'm not brave. But I can be when I see it as worth it. I would take the stabbing for a friend. I would probably scream and cower and snivel, but I would do it. I would risk myself for something worthwhile. Certainly there will be times where I will run away, but there are times where I am tenacious and unbreakable. It's good for me to come to terms with that braver side of me.
And it's always nice to know that my life has a funny habit of always working out. I don't know why this is, but maybe I should take up gambling.
posted by juxtaposer at 3:33 PM
5 Comments:
I think I'm a push-over unless someone pushes the right buttons. If I were confronted by a mugger by myself, I'd probably leave my wallet in my pants and just take them off and give them to the mugger in desperation; frankly, I'm not ready to meet God.
However, I get fiercely angry when a friend is being pushed around, or someone has gone too far in my feeling. Then I turn into a raging spewhole of hellish epithets and flinging fists. I despise bullies, so I want them to have a taste of their own baloney and a bag of moldy pork rinds on the side.
This post. I laughed because I was reading about one of the reasons I luuuuu you so much. And I never once had a doubt that you were brave. You offered to breathe for me when it hurt. And you hang on to the last shred of hope, even when it hurts. That's brave.
This post is awesome. It's driving me crazy, though, that I can't think of what song the title's lyrics are from...
Amber Pacific's "Here We Stand." Listen to it. Love it. I'll even let you borrow the EP.
well...whut if u don't bear sekretz?...sure, we all do...but just TRY to see it my way k?...I appreciat you're ko-operatioN...n if u don't?...well...just don't beat ur kydz, truth iz no1 wantz to die, whut have u never met a black person folkz? lol...jeez
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