I rarely view my life as it actually is, as I have a very over active imagination that is FAR more entertaining than reality. Instead, I mix reality with personal fantasy and maintain my happiness from there. It makes life easier to digest and helps me be a kinder me that in reality I struggle to be. I have my very real Beast who helped carve me into a dark, cynical, sato-masochist. I use to be paranoid, had multiple personalities, suffered night terrors so vividly that I'd wake bleeding and had to learn to self tie to my bed so that I remained in my own room. I use to think that I was all kinds of broken and fucked up but in time I spoke with one who pointed out that I carry a tool box with me wherever I go. "For somebody who is so fucked up and broken, you have a rather large arsenal of toys in your Tool box."
"Huh?"
Taps my noggen with his aged and wrinkly knuckles. "Your Tool box."
Here I was bitching about life and the shit it keeps throwing at me like I'm screaming "PULL" for the next big ass buffalo chip to be tossed at my head and he had listened intently, chuckling with exasperation as I spoke of how I viewed myself. I was barely in my twenties at the time and like many others of my age, I felt life was unfair and blaming everybody / everything else as well as the circumstances that had lead me to his door step. No he didn't particularly like me and to be honest I disliked him just as much but I he was conveniently accessible, honestly raw and rarely tied up with life, so he'd sit and laugh at my misery while we ate apples beneath a huge oak tree.
"You sit here bitching about life like you are Adam, son." He continued on. "You think you are unique and special but here's a secret for you..." Leans in and places the back of his hand to the corner of his mouth. "You're not." Commences cackle laughing at my narrowing eyes of Fuck'offery... "You humans and your inability to use the greatest tool box in all of creation, will never end in my delight of your own self destruction."
"I know coming to you is like asking to be shot with salt blast and tended to with lemon juice but can you at least be a bit more clear while you insult and mock me?" I glowered and growled in my contempt for him.
"Fine, fine, fine, stupid child needs me to hold his cock while he pisses." Taking a moment to light a pipe so ancient it looked like it was whittled out of the first tree to every grow and dinged black with use, dirt, grit and possibly blood...
"At least mine works, old fart" I spat back, grabbing my crotch and making a mocking noise.
"Maybe." Puffs his pipe unaffected by my insult. "But your the only one using it." Smirks and continues to take a draw on his pipe.
"Like you'res was ever used by anything more than an unwilling sheep? Or did you face fuck the carp you caught too?" I shot back a bit irritated as he poked at the lack of sex I was getting from my wife.
"Best head... Ever." Winks at me and then points the mouth piece of his pipe at me. "That right there is what I'm talking about." He interjected before I could sling out another insult.
"What?"
"See how fast you insult? The quick wit, almost automatic responses that your mouth spews out like a geyser once it bubbles up ... How did you get that way?"
I stopped and studied him for a minute... what was the angle here... "Dad..." I said tentatively. "Brother.. five uncles, aunts, friends.. " I said more confident that this wasn't a set up.
"So you was trained to be that way. Yes? Adapt or be consumed. Over come or be picked on for the rest of your days." Pokes my chest with the nasty mouth piece. "That's what I'm talking about. You sit here bitching and crying about shit that comes at you while unable to see that if it wasn't for all that shit... you would be run over by life, beaten and bleeding in stream." He paused to take another puff and blow the smoke at me before he continued. "The very thing you see as abusive, hateful and uncaring is toys you've placed in your tool box." He sat looking at me while my brain was catching up with where he was directing me to. "You have so many toys at your disposal from all that you have faced so far, stored away in your tool box but when shit comes at you, you insist on this stupid cycle of OHHH WHOA IS MEee, boo hoo, bullshit. Brake the damn cycle and you'll see that life doesn't give a rats ass about whether you're happy, sad, angry or joyous. Life just IS. How you view it will determine on what you take from it."
"But.." I sat unwilling to accept what he was saying, much like most people who cry about wanting to change yet unwilling to let go and actually make it happen.
"But what, Max?" Narrowing his eyes in his study of my internal dilemma.. "Do you fear to admit to yourself that your life is shit because you chose to view it that way?" Leans in and taps my forehead with his pipe tip again, drawling me out of thought. "The cycle you repeat is your choice. Who you let effect you, is your choice. What you allow to piss on you, is your choice, Max. What's the point of having toys in your tool box, if all you ever plan to do is ignore them?"
"I hate you, old man..." I muttered as his words sunk in.
"Yeah, I know." He stated with a chuckle as he offered me his pipe of which I took in a dream state of thought and drew from, letting the sweet, aromatic tobacco swirl across my scenes.
"Is it really that simple? Make a choice and go forward?" I blew the smoke out slowly in contemplation.
"No, kid. You'll have to make this choice every minute of everyday until it becomes a process as sharp as your tongue."
After sitting there and enjoying his pipe while lost in thought I handed his pipe back to him with a small smile crossing my lips. "That's..." Puzzled why he hadn't claimed his pipe, I turn my attention back to the old man, only to find the vast darkness that encompassed the huge oak tree planted in the forest of my mind. "Thanks Beast" I said to the red eyes that stared at me from the shadows as the pipe vanished from my hand, into his while he flipped me off and lumbered back into the recesses of my mind.
Life is how you view it to be. You may not be able to change the circumstance but how you view it is all up to you.
Nobody can fix you because you are not broken. If you was broken, you would not seek or dare to hope for better.
Change how you think. Use the toys in your tool box... or as I've said many many times before to those going though shit: Suck it up mamby pamby, time to get off the tit. 😉😂😂😂
