I am not ruthless enough to play chess.
I am not aggressive enough to master a martial art.
I'm just not.
I'm not forward.
I don't push.
I don't shove my way through
I don't scheme and plot
I don't manipulate
I just don't act in my own self interest most of the time
except for things like this writing
to explain that I don't act in my self interest.
Why?
I don't have a good answer for that.
I don't hate myself
Sometimes I think I should be more selfish
and on rare occasions, I am.
But, I highly doubt that anyone that knows me
would actually be concerned about it.
The truth is
I am this way for a reason.
I don't deserve a lot of things
I have my own reasons for believing this
but I assure you, nonetheless, they are true
solid reasons.
I am not a bad man
but I can never be a good one.
All I can be is a man that does the best that he can
with the time that he has.
Sounds better than it actually is.
I'll be glad if I can actually finish writing today
I have so many...drafts saved
streams of thoughts that I've written down
that under normal circumstances would be balled up
and thrown in the trash.
Thankfully (I suppose), I don't pay much attention to this specific account
so these writings, they stay.
In all likeliness they will never be published
they are unfinished thoughts
Memories of frustration
confusion
desolation
being lost in a world
where I only stand the language
in bits and pieces.
Pictures usually help
but people don't take pictures
they try to paint them with words.
That just doesn't work.
You're not able to provide the detail I need
with your words.
I am sorry, but it's true.
I realize as I type that out just how true that is.
A picture of a apple on a table
is not just about the fruit.
To me, it's:
What color is the apple?
What shape is the apple?
How ripe is the apple?
Is there a stem? How long is it?
When was this taken?
What kind of resolution is this picture?
What's the color of the background?
Is that a natural background, artificial?
Was this taken at day or night?
Is that sunlight? Artificial?
What about the table? What style is that?
Where was this photo taken?
Why was this photo taken from this angle?
What am I supposed to be seeing?
The shadow it casts, must be (time of day)?
And so on
and so on
and so forth.
That's the level of detail I need
from a simple picture
of an apple on a table.
That is my life.
I digress
I forgot what I was talking about.
Oh.
I don't push forward
for good reason
I can't control it.
It's not meant to for me to control
What I can control is this, here and now
my restraint, my lack
to keep my foot on the brake pedal
and ease off slowly
Because the wheels will move, the engine will go
I will seemingly and without effort
possibly destroy that which is set in front of me
for lack of stopping
because that's how I work.
--------------
Being quiet is hard
when I feel many different emotions
I can't name them
I'm not good at that
but they're there.
And they are...intense.
They push at my skin like sweat trying to force its way out
similar to when one tries to fight back tears
and I can only do this for so long
my fear eats a the lining of my stomach
almost literally at times
forcing my digestive system out of sync
giving me bouts of excessive gas
"It's all in your mind"
That is true
the mind is a powerful thing
But in reality
all I'm doing is confining it to a small area
internally.
Which is hella dangerous, I'm sure.
But the alternative
the alternative
is to take my foot off the pedal
to let it go
to let the fear run wild
And that, put quite bluntly, is not a good idea.
I am not in charge of what happens at that point
my reactions are not your reactions
my reasoning is not your reasoning
or his, or hers, or theirs.
my thoughts are not your thoughts
my actions...are.
they just...are.
and they stay that way
until.
Until I crash,
disasterously.
Or
someone that is not me
can help me,
can keep me stationary long enough
to help me push the brake pedal back down
-they- have to pull the emergency break up
because it's all i can do
It's an accident waiting to happen
I know this
I've known this for many years
It's why I'm quiet.
It's why I'm not forward
it's why I'm not aggressive
But this often leads to complication
Surely, surely I can let of the brakes...just a little right?
Surely this frustration, this sadness, this ecstacy
I can give into it, just a touch right?
I can coast, right?
It's not all bad right?
This has never proven true.
For you see
I don't know how much horsepower
this engine really has.
And if -I- don't understand it
what the fuck makes you think anyone else does?
Most people can't even describe a picture right
how the fuck are they supposed to tell me how to handle this?
Are you shitting me?
I think I'm done writing for now
I could go on
with my ranting frustration
but at the moment, that would solve nothing
my stomach still hurts.
