Sometimes I get all cowboy and full of myself. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, I usually find myself feeling like I just got sent out to arrange the deck chairs on the Titanic. Does that make any sense? I'm sure it doesn't.
Inside, I don't have many good days. More have come lately, but not that many. A few. And so when I have a few good days in a row, something seems to happen. It's my own version of pointing the bazooka at my own head and BOOM...I did it. Headless.
The result is that my planet seems to go like Mercury...all ugly and everything.
Today, in my mode to self sabotage, someone very close to me got bitten by my humor. I actually did think I was being funny and then they went all silent and I thought...there it is..I did it again.
My first thing is to try to tell them that's not what I meant. True. it wasn't. But why then, did I say it? Because in my head, I had those words and they just needed to fly out? I don't think so. Maybe because I just think I'm so smart and cute? Not exactly. Because I'm not the kind of person who can close his own mouth? Yep. That's the ticket.
Today I feel ashamed about my humor and later, when I try to make it better, and well...the damage is done, I wonder why I tried neatly arranging those deck chairs. What a dumb ass.
Mostly, I think..it has to do with me not realizing the power of my words. Intended or not, they can carry quite the punch. Like the battle between Rosy and Ellen, my words often confuse me as to who is who and what is what. That's when I need to stop covering with humor and shut up. Can't joke my way out of uncomfortable. Can't. Shouldn't. Don't need to.
I know I've been away from SP and my blog for a bit and that in itself isn't a good thing. Sorry for a downer. But I promised you all the truth.
Today..I'm ashamed of my humor.