As it turns out, I don't do "Poor me" very well and to all those that have had to put up with it by offering up their own kind of "what works for me is..." kind of advice, I know you mean well, but deep down you hate saying it as much as I hate hearing it and wish that I was the last person on earth that you had to try to give advice to.
Because here is the thing, I'm gonna take it and then I'm gonna break it. You know, fuck up any semblance of what you told me I "should" do. I know your intent is good and I appreciate you caring enough about me to even consider advising me, it's what we do for the ones we love. We hate to see anyone hurt or misguided, I do the same thing. Every. Single. Day.
If you know me, then you know that I am a long-winded, loud-mouthed, "fixer of others," it's like I'm advising my friends from the floor of the Stock Exchange, he who speaks the loudest and longest wins, right? I also LOVE to hear myself talk, but guess what, I'm not actually listening.
All I do is talk, talk.
As it would seem, the only so-called "expert" on my life is me, and somewhere along the line I stopped listening to my own expert advice, most likely because I didn't want to hear what I actually had to say. See, if you tune out yourself and follow the advice of others, when everything falls apart, "you" aren't to blame.
"Well, if only I hadn't followed your stupid advice, then none of this would have happened."
Oh. My. Geezers, do I adore saying that, but it's time to start the weaning process.
My expert advisor, just stated that I should, and I quote,
"Man the fuck up Martin, if you are going to be truly kick ass, then you have to learn to balance out the ratio a little more evenly. Not work with the 90% protective armor, 10% "sugar and spice and everything nice" on the inside model that you've been rolling with. Oh and by the way, how's that been working out for you?"
Fuck you, when did you get to be so smart, Selfie?! And how is it that you've finally caught up with me? I've been evading you with great success for years. I figured the case went cold by now or you found something better to do with your time, but no, here we meet again. You're sneaky. Sneaky like a snake!
Alright, alright already. I'm listening, no really, I hear ya!
I feel like I'm coming out of the closet, but instead of giving some sort of statement about my sexual orientation, I'm saying "Hey, guess what guys, I am not as tough as I think I am!" But the reply is still the same, a collective "Duh, we know!"
Oh hello there, pleased to meet me.
I think I get it. Like for reals get it! Let's do this, Ms. Martin F.T.W.!
*If you'd like to know more about the jackalope species, please read Getting to Know Your Inner Killer Rabbit.
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