An expression of repression is basically nothing. Each and every one of us has something inside us…it hides in those little tiny areas between our organs and in our veins. Sometimes, no matter how much you try, you cannot get it out. You know that if you can get it out, you’ll feel better, or at the very least, different than you feel right now.
All you really can do is wait… it’ll most likely come out when it gets really hungry.
I don’t think one can be either a total optimist or a total pessimist… there is a balance between the two… and I don’t know what that might be. All one way is one directional. I’d like to think that some things could work, while other things should just end before they begin.
I think it all depends on how much dirt is in your bag as well. Just enough dirt lets things grow, not enough leaves them exposed… too much either covers you up completely or makes you dirty. Balance. There has to be a dirt balance.
Maybe if I stayed away from that chocolate and went towards the vegetables, I would be of stronger mind than I am right now. Maybe I would have developed my brain more… maybe i’d be slightly taller, just a touch more fluffy…
I can’t help it if carrots don’t taste as good as candy.
I’m not entirely sure if practice makes perfect on this one. Seems to me that pretty much anyone willing to make a fool of themselves can get their name stamped somewhere on our evolved culture… as of late anyway. I’ll just patiently wait in line for my turn…wouldn’t want to cut ahead of anyone or anything… well, that’s not true… i totally would cut ahead… if I felt the time was right…or even left.
It’s possible that my myth and your myth might be two different myths. I think of a myth as a story used to take a complicated idea or event and break it down into more digestible (understandable) pieces. In my case, myths are true. No hammer of the gods, chilling on Mt. Olympus type stuff for this squirrel… No origin of the universe, no creation of life. My mind is not able to wrap itself around big gigundo ideas like that… For one, it’s in my head…be kinda hard to get it out. Secondly, if I started to wrap my head around it, I’d run out before putting on the bow. (that was a gift wrapping joke… get it?)
Does something have to be true to be real? Does something have to be real to be true? Like I know… I mean, if I knew, why would I ask the questions?
Not all the time, just some of the time. Once was a time where I could go out and be anonymous. I could roam about, mind my own business and it would be as though I was merely part of the scenery. I didn’t have to be on my guard…aside from the occasional feral cat.
But now, it’s as if my days of hiding in the chorus and merely mouthing the words to the song are long gone. I have to be a main player, whether I feel like performing or not. I almost always need to be on top of my game, have the song and dance memorized because if I don’t, I let someone down. As much of a selfish squirrel that I think I am, there’s still a bit of me that hates letting someone down. It costs nothing to be polite and friendly.
So that’s what I do. Disguises hide nothing. Still like them, but they hide nothing.