Or Curiosity Sucks... pick a title...
Generally its good to know what the hell is going on with everything around you. Other times its best to mind your damn business. But not me. No sir. I have a strange need to know. Seems I find no comfort in the dark, so I constantly seek the light, no matter how harsh and glaring it is. This gets me into enough trouble that it begins to make me wonder why I just don't mind my neck when I know I won't like what I find.
The short version? I had a plan to make a move that should have brought me some measure of satiation. When the plan didn't come to fruition, I felt the old familiar itch. My gut told me there was more to the all than met the eye. This prompted me to ask a question.
Funny thing, questions. More often than not, in certain situations, if you're asking you already know the answer. I'm not sure if the need for confirmation that you're correct is just your subconscious's way of feeding your ego's desire to be seen as irrefutably spot-on. Dammit. I hate it when I'm right. And I was.
So right, that when the answer was received, my heart folded up painfully within my chest. I stared at the response until my eyes blurred, hoping that the lack of optical focus due to a prism of tears would change what I saw. Hope. It tends to fuck people for cheap.
Well, there it was. I found what I sought, as bitter as it tasted to my mind. Not much to do now but be the adult I claim to be. When one has a mind to build a house, one does not choose a plot of land where construction is already being done by another. While I may not be sure if I am going to erect an abode where I stand, I am most assuredly not one to choose a place that is occupied... not even by squatters.
I have debated the wisdom of my query. Mostly because of hope. Hope that I had the option to build, rather than occupy for a spell. Would I have rather wandered the acres blindly? As much as I wish it were true that ignorance is bliss, for me it is not. There be nothing worse for me than coming into the know when it is too late to extract myself from the dance.
Verily I say unto thee: I wish I hadn't fucking asked, and the smaller part of me knows this to be true. But the larger is thankful that I have once again become the questioning kind. The truth sets me free, albeit painfully. So I will apply balm to the soul. I will leave off the dance. I will allow the heartsickness to heal. And I will be happy that I'm me.
M,
Gonna mind her business for a spell...
Generally its good to know what the hell is going on with everything around you. Other times its best to mind your damn business. But not me. No sir. I have a strange need to know. Seems I find no comfort in the dark, so I constantly seek the light, no matter how harsh and glaring it is. This gets me into enough trouble that it begins to make me wonder why I just don't mind my neck when I know I won't like what I find.
The short version? I had a plan to make a move that should have brought me some measure of satiation. When the plan didn't come to fruition, I felt the old familiar itch. My gut told me there was more to the all than met the eye. This prompted me to ask a question.
Funny thing, questions. More often than not, in certain situations, if you're asking you already know the answer. I'm not sure if the need for confirmation that you're correct is just your subconscious's way of feeding your ego's desire to be seen as irrefutably spot-on. Dammit. I hate it when I'm right. And I was.
So right, that when the answer was received, my heart folded up painfully within my chest. I stared at the response until my eyes blurred, hoping that the lack of optical focus due to a prism of tears would change what I saw. Hope. It tends to fuck people for cheap.
Well, there it was. I found what I sought, as bitter as it tasted to my mind. Not much to do now but be the adult I claim to be. When one has a mind to build a house, one does not choose a plot of land where construction is already being done by another. While I may not be sure if I am going to erect an abode where I stand, I am most assuredly not one to choose a place that is occupied... not even by squatters.
I have debated the wisdom of my query. Mostly because of hope. Hope that I had the option to build, rather than occupy for a spell. Would I have rather wandered the acres blindly? As much as I wish it were true that ignorance is bliss, for me it is not. There be nothing worse for me than coming into the know when it is too late to extract myself from the dance.
Verily I say unto thee: I wish I hadn't fucking asked, and the smaller part of me knows this to be true. But the larger is thankful that I have once again become the questioning kind. The truth sets me free, albeit painfully. So I will apply balm to the soul. I will leave off the dance. I will allow the heartsickness to heal. And I will be happy that I'm me.
M,
Gonna mind her business for a spell...
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