Judo For Mice

I don't know how to explain it really. I think it's an identity crisis. Something like waking up one day and realizing that I've been going about my business, right? I've been doing whatever happened to feel good to me and if what felt good to me felt bad to someone else? I'd chalk it up to the game and do it anyway, busting out an all-purpose disclaimer:

Basically, I'm a good person.

Any idea, dear hearts, how much unsavory shit a person can do while still making that claim?

I have an idea.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no puppy strangler. I'm no torturer of children, no lying cheater, no kicker of old women's kneecaps.

Just. Just. Hmmmm.

I've just been pursuing pleasure and revenge. I've chalked up all sorts of things to the game and left it at that. Ex-boyfriend's friends? Fair game. Good friend's crushes? Same deal. Occasional behind-the-back remarks that I'd never make to a person's face? Allowed.

This semi-dark night of the soul? This sudden turn to the inside of me? All stemming from this late in the game punkassed awareness:

I'm only as good as my actions. So there's none of this stealing someone else's boyfriend while still saying that I'm basically a good person shit. There's none of that.

You're either a good person or you're a boyfriend stealer. You can't have it both ways.





I wrote that a while ago. It applies today, I'm wondering how far I've come since then in my efforts to be more of a basically good person. Not very far, I guess. Or else that wouldn't ring so true.

I'm at least a little bit wiser now. At least. I see that persona falling down on me like a building collapsing, I see it for what it is. It's suffocating, not being very nice. Cause at the end of that there are only so many directions you can turn in without feeling pretty shitty. Facing some thing you did that you would love to take back.

Lately my mind has been filled with all of those things. Some of those things.

I think I finally understand that there aren't take backs.





A fucked up realization, and all of a sudden I feel like time is running out. I mean. How much longer do I have to define my character? How much longer can I be reshaping me?

Or maybe that is just tonight, that I feel this way. I've had one of those evenings where my head is spinning some, I've been talking about myself all night and nothing that I've been saying feels particularly true. It's like when you say a word enough times that it loses meaning?

I've described myself enough times that I've lost my definition.