Maybe, maybe

Antigua, Guatemala

When you play out the scenarios, it’s not a stretch to think of some really screwy things. And you’re often right to think so. The worst of the worse case scenarios are sometimes just a few steps away from reality.

But I like to think our smarter selves should accept that they just don’t and won’t ever know. I like to think that things and people and people-things should have some benefit of the doubt.

Obviously, there’s exceptions. There’s always exceptions. I hate it when people try to prove a point using exceptions. If you ask me, all of life is a fucking exception.

Like your past week. Your past year. Your entire lineage. The entire collection of forsaken exceptions that had to take place to bring you here.

Then realize that it’s not only your collection exceptions. But also the catalogue of exceptions from your friends, from their families, their families friends, and so on.

They’re not always pretty. They’re not always ugly. And sometimes they’re pretty ugly. I was forced to accept that sometimes these sometimes-pretty-ugly exceptions can crumble just enough to make way for something else.

They probably won’t. But they just might.

So, don’t bother being righteous. Don’t bother to preach about the chances and odds. Don’t bother to preach about the things that should and shouldn’t be.

I’m not listening. You shouldn’t either.

Drain and Seal

Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t here. Sometimes, I wish you weren’t either.

See, there’s some things that are difficult to sugarcoat. On paper, my tumor has only affected some of my motor skills, mainly those on the right side of my body. But the joke is that I’ve had poor coordination all my life and the harsh reality is that every aspect of my life has been affected, way more than just my equilibrium.

It’s interesting because these type of challenges are so individual. We’ve all got different symptoms. We’ve all got different reactions. We’ve all got different triggers. And we’ve all got our own methods and manners that curb our symptoms. It’s a completely different experience for each of us.

It might be totally invisible and constrained to your own mind. And even then, this is its own challenge. It’s difficult (and mostly futile) to try and justify any sense of dread when your outward self is ok.

I understand. I get it. I know some of why it’s difficult. And though it sucks, i’ve learned to try and tune it out. I’ve forced myself think that most people mean well. Even though they don’t know what they’re talking about. Even though their advice is terrible. Even though they’re sometimes insulting and pretty inconsiderate.

But i’ve got to remind myself that it’s my life. My truth.

Not theirs, not yours.

And you’ve got to remind yourself that It’s your life. Your truth.

Not mine, Not theirs.

Remember that half of what people say and do is wrong, and that the other half is probably much worse. That’s ok. We all say and do things that are poorly thought out.

Just play nice, mean well, and do as you will.

(But maybe stop doing that one thing).