Some Bon Mots From Anonymous

"Sir, I'm going to say as politely as possible. I will fuck you up!" - Roxy, Dead Like Me

That kind of thing cracks me up --- mostly because I don't have the guts to say that sort of thing out loud. I have this aversion to getting shot in the face...not that this is a frequent occurrence where I'm from...all ghetto-like references to my area of the 'burbs aside, it's really not that bad.

Well, it depends on what you think about living in the suburbs --- row upon row of cookie-cutter homes where neighbours strenuously avoid eye contact or saying much of anything to each other. I mean, in some ways, I can see how some people think of that as hell. But I don't. Mostly 'cause I think life is already hell.

Or maybe that's just something I like to tell myself, 'cause, you know, the reality of the situation would just cause me to wake up one day, think, "My life is shit" and then promptly slit my wrists...though, that's pretty much a daily occurrence, anyway. Not that I'm suicidal or anything. I just have the tendency to get depressed. A lot. I seriously think I need to go on meds, but you know, self-diagnosis isn't exactly my strong suit.

Someone the other day actually told me that when things are bad, we should take comfort in the fact that things could always be worse. What kind of warped thinking is that?

It kind of made me want to punch her in the face --- though, that, obviously, is another thing that I don't tend to do.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm a ticking time bomb of rage.

One of my sisters asked me the other night why I was so angry all the time, why I'd become so bitter.

I shrugged and told her, "If you had my life, wouldn't you be bitter and angry, too?"

But, you know, the whole self-pity thing can get tired after awhile. And it gets boring, too.

Carl Jung once wrote that everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves...and this made me think, going over every little thing that pisses me off about other people and trying to figure out what this meant about me. What can I say? I'm very self-absorbed sometimes.

So...the thing is, you can't undo anything you've already done. You've just got to fucking move on...but why is that so hard?

I turn to Anonymous for some of his/her bon mots when it comes to puzzling out what my life means and I found this:

Life can either be accepted or changed. If it is not accepted, it must be changed. If it cannot be changed, then it must be accepted.

Makes sense.

P.S. I kinda like this picture of myself:



Yeah. I deliberately kept it small for a reason. I also decided to bury it in an old post...just 'cause...well, most people who read this --- and I'm talking about the four of you out there who tune in regularly to this blog --- only read the most recent posts.

I like the notion of my picture floating around out there on the web.