I asked for feedback on something personal today. I was back and forth between terrified and utterly disinterested (out of the aim of escaping the fear), as I waited for the feedback to come in. Eventually, the fear won out.
But I kept a level head about it, allowed the feeling, and accepted that whatever the feedback, it would be exactly what I needed to hear right now, for whatever reason. Even if it was somewhat depressing.
And then, when I received the report, I actually laughed out loud at the only negatives offered. One of them was an unchangeable thing, which the person acknowledged in the feedback. The other was simply a personal taste thing, one that, though it’s always a bit of a bummer to disappoint someone else, it isn’t something I actually would alter, due to our opposing personal tastes.
And the whole area where I was terrified to hear the feedback, and I even asked a follow-up, just to make sure the person hadn’t forgotten about or avoided it? It was not even something the person noticed. My glaring failure in my own mind was not even noticed.
And so, yes, I burst out laughing at the two silly and near-unnecessary pieces of minimally negative feedback, and could hardly fathom how different the whole evaluation was than my own.
I truly am my hardest critic… I’m fierce.
But perhaps that is exactly the reason why this other person struggled to come up with the negatives…
Keep at it, Banana. 😉 I love you.
Apparently, I am still recovering from the past couple weeks and all of their excitement and whelming. This afternoon, I was struck slightly by a thought. It was a worrisome concern. And, instead of it’s just remaining that, it kind of spread, virus-like, into so much more, I was a mess and ready to cry and rush home to ball up during, of all things, karate class. That class is usually my active healing time, my fight club, my releases. However, because I’ve been so worn down, my mental capacity was somewhat shot by this afternoon, and I could hardly keep it together enough to be in class, let alone put forth full effort. My full effort was measly, really, which brought me down even more, mentally.
Granted, I started menstruating today. However, that was only icing on the cake that gave me the exhausted ache of my whole being right now.
Anyway, off to sleep to help as best I can, despite the delay (due to yet another technological letdown) on getting to bed at a reasonable hour.
And so, the universe converges, yet again, and it looks as though I will be living, once again, with one of my best friends, in a city I love so much…, but in a new area of it.
It is time to explore, and not just this city, but myself and what we can create together, this Universe and I.
I can hardly wait…
But I must. 😉
I really did look like Barbie Hannah, as my mom labeled it, this weekend for the wedding. That airbrush makeup and darkened eyebrows and false lashes really did make me look… well, flawless, yet slightly fake. I am definitely not accustomed to relating to these photos I am seeing as photos of myself…
… at last. I had a bigger bed and company the last several nights, staying with one of my best friends and her family. It was wonderful.
And yet, my body can hardly contain its joy at being in my own bed, small as it may be, with my own smells and my own vibes to rest and recuperate after so much these past couple weeks and this past weekend.
Have you ever agreed to do something, even been the one who suggested to do it in the first place, and then found yourself, only minutes into the agreement, feeling like it was a really bad idea? You suddenly feel a need to take it back, because you don’t actually want to be the one fulfilling this specific task? And yet, you can’t even quite tell why you feel that way?
It certainly can make for a very bizarre situation…
And tomorrow, one of my best friends gets married.
Exhausted, feeling slightly ill, I roll onto the bed. It is so very late, and there has been so much action today, my mind, body, and spirit are all practically brimming with tears. They need rest. They need the door shut. They need the fresh air and lack of stimulation.
And so, we shall sleep… hopefully, very well.
You know…, I might just actually really like those smutty romance novels after all…
Not that I hold them as high royalty among novels – nothing like that. But so far as storytelling goes, some of the smutty ones are spectacularly told…, even if they might be 80% smut… Because, I believe, smut told well is worth hearing… and, if for nothing else, then for spectacular ideas…
But the good ones actually have great stories to go with them – fairy tale fantasy and smutty fantasy all in one. 😛
However, I’m not sure yet. I’ going to do some research on the top-rated romance novels, and give them a go, see how I feel about them. I’ve mostly only read stories that have unexpected smut strewn throughout their stories, stories that focus around something else, with the smut only as a tiny piece here and there. So, we shall see…
O-o-o-oh, sometimes, it causes me to tremble…, tremble… tremble…
Perhaps one of the most powerful expressions of sadness and pain – an expression that communicates clearly to and elicits reaction from onlookers – is the unexpected tremble of the lips.
That powerful, easy, comfortable part of the body, somehow losing its ability just to hang out, hang around… it takes no effort for our lips just to exist. Perhaps that is what makes that tremble so powerful, so effecting… our pain is so great, that not even our effortless body parts can remain calm, they shake with the volume of such pain.