Thursday, October 25, 2012

The Shit is Lost.

In turning over a new, more honest leaf on my blog, I find myself paralyzed by fear at night. Seriously, hot, sweating fear that tastes salty on my lips and bitter in my throat. It leaves me cold and hot and hurts my insides from my heart to my stomach. I can shudder imagining indifference. I let it hamper me.

I know judgement and shame and pure f-ugly -which is worse than just plain ugly in my book.-but I'll take those any day over indifference. Over a lack of caring. Over not giving a shit.

I am so scared that will eek into this place and I'll hate my choice to do this, this putting words out for others to read, absorb, love and even hate. I let those fears of nothingness stop me dead in my type. I will write hundreds of words then my fingers will twitch with judgement-fearing anger and BOOM, delete, gone, never to return.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid" screams through my mind, red, hot and mean. The little girl named Confidence curls up in the darkest recesses of my mind and prays for quiet like an abused child cowering behind a couch for safety.

Too much credit is being given, not many come and read. But those who do. What if they don't like it? Can't stand the questions, the feelings, the death, the life? What if I'm doing this all in vain?

The problem is that I care way too much about people who don't give a shit. Not just about me, but about God, about life, about themselves, about us.

I give a shit. About me, about God, about life, about you, about us. That's where the fear begins. Because I give a shit. And this can't be in vain or my shit is lost on us.

Any feeling -in the positive or the negative- is the purpose of thise. Stirring something in you, anything. It's the indifference, the not giving a shit, that terrifies me for your sake and for mine.


  1. I seriously can't wait to read the book when it comes out!! And promise me that you won't sanitize it too much - people will love the rawness of it all

  2. While this is an odd comment on such a serious post, first and foremost, I admire your prose.

    Alas, I guess I am among the lost. You started losing me at "about God." You lost me completely at "about themselves."

    Do you think there are Buddhists who lie awake at night worrying about how Mrs. Thomas has not accepted the Eightfold Path? Do you think your readers hear about your inner pain and worry that it is, in fact, you who is not taking care of herself?

    You have succeeded in finding the source of your pain: fretting about others' beliefs, attitudes and behaviors. The non-religious, the passive, the self-destructive, and the apparently "lost" may not be lost at all. In the words of Tolkien, not all those who wander are lost. Live and let live. Best wishes.


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