Did you think you were going to get away without some mindless blather from me today? Well think again! And mostly it’s because I wanted to scream a tagline to get you here on Facebook. Yes, I’m just that strange. But I’m pretty sure you also already knew that. I mean, it isn’t likely that you just stumbled upon this blog. You probably got here because I pointed you here. And thanks. Thanks for popping over here and stroking my ego. You’re the best.
I didn’t really have anything I wanted to get off my mind today, so I fell back to my old friend 365 days of writing prompts. When I read through some of them, I know that there’s no way that a post is coming out of them. Some have potential if I want to really think them out. Sometimes, one really just has to be in the mood to write or all the topics in the world could be available, but nothing will happen between the brain and the hands.
This prompt is something I think about a bit and wonder how to actually make it work. Here is my letter to my least favorite personality trait:
Hey Fear,
You know what? You aren’t welcome here any fucking more. I’m pretty fucking tired of you holding me back. You want to stick your grubby little fingers in every thing I think about doing. Everything!
You don’t just stick to fear of injury, because that one is actually mostly rational. I can accept that, even though I try through diet and exercise, I am not aging in reverse. I’ve tamed you down to a healthy and acceptable level of caution so that I can continue to do the physical silly things that I like to do. So you got restless and decided to sink your mitts into other things and you went whole fucking hog.
Hey, this will be fun. Let’s not just have a fear of failure, but let’s throw in a fear of success too! Yeah! There’s nothing better than being “stuck” because I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I am certain that I have passed up opportunities (and still do) because I’m afraid to fail or I’m afraid of being successful and leaving my comfort zone. And how ridiculous is that? I don’t want to leave my comfort zone because there might be….MORE COMFORT?!?! FFS what is wrong with me? Fear, you really gotta go.
And what’s even more fucked up is that I can see this. I fully recognize it and I continue to fail to do anything about it. You’re one strong asshole, fear, but I’ve been in the gym. I lost 20 of your fear pounds. I have 10 more to go but I’m not waiting for them to start kicking you in your fucking ass. Get gone you lazy dick! I got shit to do.
With the most sincere fuck you,
Me
There. Now to put that in an envelope, stamp it, and, I don’t know, eat it? I guess recognizing this is step one. Is there a 12 step for this? Should I create one? 12 steps to Fuck Fear. I don’t know all the steps yet. Step one has to be acknowledging that this asshole exists though. Maybe step two is realizing how fear is affecting you. Perhaps there don’t need to be 12 steps. I guess I’ll make them up as I go. Isn’t that what self-help is? (Oh no, did I eye roll right there? Oops!)
Ok, I really have to go do something about putting my foot in the ass of some fear. Oddly enough, that’s gonna happen right at this keyboard. Let me go take some of this random shit I know and put it together. Deuces!