We were given misinformation. It’s a safe bet as a general statement. Some of us were given the same misinformation for different cause. Many of us were given misinformation from people who believed it was not misinformation. It’s the difference between a lie and a liar. And yes, we were given misinformation too to protect us.
I don’t know where that paragraph came from, I hope it knows it’s way back home because it can’t stay here; it’s already eaten half a bag of kibble and fouled the corner of the room.
Like many other paragraphs of it’s ilk, that paragraph believes if it can’t leave an indelible mark on this world it will leave scorched earth. I think I’m mostly of the opinion that paragraphs of this sort fall far shy from the mark and haven’t the nerve to scorch the earth. I’m mostly of the opinion that any paragraph that sets those goals have already doomed their best laid plans to failure.
I think perhaps you can set sail for fame and get your fifteen minutes (ironic that the anemic piss pot war-hole coined a phrase about fleeting, and implied undeserving, fame) but that’s a far cry from an indelible mark. Ninety nine percent of those paragraphs are lucky if they make it to a trivial pursuit card. And the infamous, well, the best of that lot didn’t get caught. Killing a handful of hookers in London, for instance, is hardly scorched earth, and the only name associated is a journalists pet name; Jack. Sociopaths don’t set out to make the history books of the throng; they don’t give a shit about the throng, that’s what makes them sociopaths. In books of infamy only those who get caught get a bio. Even in great deeds of horror. Without google (or any search engine) name two of Kaiser Wilhelm’s generals. If you can ask how you know that. Um, I don’t know the answer.
I’ve been napping a lot of late. It’s not healthy. I don’t mean in a medical way, it might not be healthy in a medical but how the fuck would I know, in a mental health sort of way I don’t wake refreshed. I also wake with negative self talk ringing around my head. Affirmations are one of the tricks I’ve been referring to over the past several entries when I refer to a bag of tricks. I was reminded after some nap this morning that there is another version of an affirmation; the denial of negative self talk. I don’t mean the denial of it’s existence, but the insistence of lack of truth in it.
One might think given the kibble krapping paragraph with it’s delusions of grandeur or destruction that some form of nap rising negative talk had to do with either not leaving a mark or not scorching the earth. One would be mistaken. But it does illustrate the magic of the written word; because such things are often foreshadowed a reader has certain expectations. It’s one of the reasons we continue to entertain ourselves with stories though we know every plot. I apologize, my intent is neither to be didactic nor to lead you astray.
My intent is simple. Write an entry because the odds favor quantity; write enough and you’re bound to stumble upon one you like. Even just a paragraph that won’t hog the kibble or foul the floor. The whole napping thing is just partial disclosure. If I wanted full disclosure I would have led with it. I don’t want to lend any credence to negative self talk by putting it in print (though there is a therapeutic precedent, say something often enough and you become desensitized to it. There’s a couple of ways that can backfire, but still, it works). Also the combatting of it doesn’t need credence either, and it’s specific to an instance.
It’s snowed every day this week, nothing has stuck and more hours of the day and night have been above freezing than below. It is fucking April. I think I could go on. I’m not going to.
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