Broken white lines

Every morning during the 7 a.m. hour — usually my commuting time but it even happens on weekends — I craft a blog entry that I plan to write and capture for life. Then somewhere around 8, my day starts its descent and it never happens. Should a post appear, it’s a mere shell of the prose I tried so hard to craft on my mental chalkboard.

And it is a chalkboard, indeed. Maybe I’m old-school. Maybe it should be an erasable whiteboard or perhaps even a PowerPoint presentation, since our industry simply couldn’t run without it. But there’s something about the broken white lines and the realization that a thousand ideas have already been written there, erased hastily to make room for more, that comforts me.

Brilliance has occurred before. And it will again. Even if not this particular go-’round, but maybe in the next cloud of white dust.

So I caught someone lying to me recently. They don’t know it yet. Whether they don’t know that they’re lying or that I’ve figured it out, however, remains to be seen.

Everyone says to call them out on it but I wonder whether leverage can be my friend here. I mean, they are so blissful in their delusion that I am hanging on this lie, it’s entertaining. But I’m not ready to call them out on it.

I mean, I am pissed beyond absolute belief that anyone dare take someone as kind and good as me and decide to fuck with me for their own delight. More pissed, really, that I can’t legally mow them down with a speeding vehicle.

Of course, there is always the slim chance that this isn’t a heaping pile of bullshit under which I’m trying to catch a breath. But for the fact that I’m unable to say this aloud without eliciting gales of laughter, well, tells me something.

I hate how I have to basically sucker-proof myself. To be ready when the bottom falls out. Because it always does, really.

I have plenty of faith and I know that my God and I are a majority and no asshole who thinks they can undermine me is ever truly going to win. But faith doesn’t always defend against injustice. And I hate when I can see it coming and I feel powerless to stop it.

Or … am I?

I find time and again in this life that even just a word from me can either uplift or shred someone to absolute ribbons. I think that’s because I say and do what I mean. And I don’t fake enthusiasm or whatever emotion they may be looking for. It’s disingenuous … and disloyal to all involved.

I find it intriguing that everyone wants my buy-in, but no one’s willing to do what it REALLY takes to get it. Or if I even want them to, really.

They say God puts you in the right place at the right time. But that you’ve got to “get out there” because He can’t send Luck and Opportunity to your door. I just can’t wait to be able to look ahead without trepidation, disgust or feeling like everyone’s only seeing what they want to see instead of what’s very clearly there.

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