Ya know, I’m in one of those moods tonight.
Here’s the thing about me. I don’t care if you like me or not. I don’t care if you hate my writing. I don’t care if you think you’re better than me. I don’t care if you think, or can, kick my ass. I’ve been bullied before and I don’t always come out on bottom.
I don’t care if you swerve your red pickup truck at me, honk, and flip me off as I was run in the gutter of the road, completely out of your way. I do care that I have the opportunity to cross your path at one of the fine white-trash establishments in Kuna; because at that time we will have a talk about your actions tonight, and you will not like the outcome. No, I’m not a puss, after three miles I was quite out of breath and I did not have the energy to run fast enough to catch your license plate number. I did see you at Arctic Circle, and I did phone the Kuna Police, but when they finally answered the phone, I watched in dismay as you drove your fat ass out of the Arctic Circle drive-through, but I will never forget the missing tailgate panel on your piece of shit red pickup truck.
Since I’m on the subject of people who think they have the right to interject their opinions on me, I don’t care if you are in my martial arts class and feel the need to scold me for being late to an evening class. I lead a busy life, I live quite a ways away from the school, I don’t care if I am late, and most of all I pay to be there, not the other way around. So, if I feel the need, or urge, to show up late, maybe even with only five minutes left in that night’s class, this is my right, and I will continue to do so as I need. I can assure you my arriving late disrupts the class quite a bit less than your smart-assed comments from the front of the room.
Here too, I need this off my chest. Never assume because I have invited you into my home, or am talking to you about my family, means I want you to interject fucked-up advice about my life. I don’t care if you disagree with the way I raise my children, just shut up. For crap’s sake, if I want your advice, I’ll ask. One thing I do know is that if I were to raise my kids as your parents raised you, then I would have some messed up crack-kids to look forward to in the future. Lord knows I don’t want those Meth: Not Even Once commercials to be about my life. What I mean is, all of you alcoholics, druggies, jail-birds, women and men with children from three or more people, and divorcees who cheat on their spouses, are the last people I would ever seek out for parental advice.
Now don’t get me wrong, there are people in my life I respect. Like those who know that my venting it is just that. Those who don’t make it a goal in life to disagree with everything I say or do; and I do mean everything. I have those people who help, or are helped, and who listen, or speak, yet expect nothing in return. Most of all, those who know when to shut the hell up when it’s not their place to say anything. Yeah, I know you’re thinking WTF? He does the same to me. Guess what? Don’t care. If you don’t like it, ask me to stop. My friend Curtis did, and I know his boundaries, and we’re great friends. My friend Mike is the same way. Just know that if you ask me to stop, you no longer have the right to continue your shit with me; that is an open door, and I will rush through like the bulls of Pamplona.
I’ve been on this earth 38 years. I’ve had friends in my life who I trusted and cared for, but they are no longer around, and I’ve had those who are like those I’ve mentioned above. Those I’ve cared about and lost, I’d love to have back; I can think of two from my Army days. But those who are like those above, I didn’t care about them then. I tolerated them, but I didn’t care about them. Has this impacted my life? No, in fact I am quite content with where I am today. The only things in my life that I find a disappointment are the barriers that I have constructed against myself. I can guarantee you it is not, and never will be based on anything else anyone in this world says, or thinks, about me.
So I ask, why should I care if someone I am merely an acquaintance to should like me or not? To me, they are nothing but an egg-fart in the wind.
Finally, to those who read this and are offended because they immediately assume what I have written is about them? Well, it may be safe to assume it is, but it may also be your own pathetic insecurities. I will say this, if you read something anywhere on my blog and it offends you, then it is safe to assume that you do act this way, and it is quite probable that you are about whom I write.
Here’s the clincher, once you discover this about yourself, ask yourself this: Will he care?
I can assure you the answer is no.
[950]
