"An idiot . . .
A fool . . .
A fumbler . . .
A drool . . .
Ever naïve . . .
Never cool . . .
Just one wish . . .
To break the rule."
Ever feel that way? Like no matter how hard you try to protect yourself from your own stupidity, it always outsmarts you in the end? Always finding that you've chosen something you thought was "different this time", but coming to realize it was just another opportunity to fall flat--or worse, to fall right through where you thought the very bottom was, falling past flat and into concave?
Of course not. Neither have I. *coughs* Good thing we haven't the faintest idea what that would be like, hmm? Sounds like it kinda stinks, in my personal opinion.
Naturally, since I've no idea what this feels like, I can't give valid advice on the subject, or even so much as an empathetic pat on the proverbial head with some fabulous cliché you'll receive with *warm-fuzzies*. And since you don't either, should I actually do said patting on the proverbial head and such, you'd simply look at me like I'd lost my mind, anyway, right?
Over the years, I have learned that I am not very bright in some respects. (Of course, admitting that over the internet might be the first sign of it.) I have learned, however, that in life, we make choices, and we must make them in order to survive. Sometimes we make them knowing there might not be a "good" or "best" choice, but we must choose because the processes of survival or progression depend upon it.
What then happens when we make a choice that involves a risk, knowing the risk exists; knowing the odds are fair that the odds are going to be unfair? We might know that we could get hurt if we involve ourselves in something, a relationship perhaps; we might know the chances are pretty good we'll end up hurt. We might know this, but for some, perhaps unfathomable reason, we make the choice that feeds the risk.
So, if we get hurt, what of that? Is it simply an extension of that old proverb (that I always hated) about the boy who carries the snake from the mountaintop and gets bitten at the bottom . . . "You knew what I was when you picked me up"? Does that make us fools for having made the journey, risking it all in behalf of one we believed was worth the risk? Does our being sacrificed to our own choice to believe in the snake's worth undermine the validity of the choice?
If you have never experienced anything like this, you won't have any idea what I'm talking about, so I hope you will forgive me for rambling on about it. If, however, you are called to mind, either in a memory or a current state of things, to understand all, too well, then I'm sorry for that pain. I hope the risk was worth that hurt. I hope when you've healed to the point you can objectively look back, you can honestly be grateful that you had the strength to make such a choice.
Because while of course I have no idea whatsoever what I'm going on about, there are those who do, and I want them to know I'm proud of them for standing up for the choice to believe in something that was a risk, even if it cost them.
With that, I'm off to sleep. 'Night!
~ Me
No comments:
Post a Comment