One of my FB friends sent me these pictures from Zillo Gone Wild and asked me-
Hey Anita are you selling your house?
First of all, I don’t live in Texas- which is where this house is.
Second, I can’t imagine why-even if you are joking you- would suspend your commitment to reality- when in the pictures you spent God knows how many minutes you spent time looking at, there are some obvious truths are glaring at you straight in the face:
I mean COME ON- anyone who knows me would tell you straight up I don’t like floral prints and who the heck would hang a lighting fixture that low over an embalming table?
Do you think for one second I would do that? That I would slap flowers all over my rugs and walls and scatter them all over my table tops?
Inspired by the Daily Prompt: How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?
Still Life of Fish and Cat Clara Peetersafter 1620
When you- or to put it bluntly- when I had a goal there was no shortage of people in my life to remind me to stay humble and reasonable and to not BE be so ‘god damn selfish ‘ when anybody- and I do mean ANYBODY needed my undivided attention.
And let me tell you, I had so much help in the ‘becoming a better person in the being humble department’ that if you asked me for the last drop of blood in my veins I would give it to you because what have I DONE to deserve that last drop of blood in my veins when there are so many other people deserve it more then I?
In the end I became a bloodless corpse walking around with a gentle smile on my face but boy oh boy if you told me to jump or bark like a good girl I did.
But nothing good lasts forever.
Here’s the thing about putting your foot on somebody’s neck and pushing down on it when you want to remind them to not be ‘so selfish and to think of other people’-
they really start to believe they don’t matter and once they accept that the next step to believe is you don’t matter too and that well of darkness that you helped people like me dig in their heads or their hearts is bottomless and dark.
and you never know when you might fall into it one day.
Let me end this on a teensy up beat note.
When I cut away the deadwood in my life- and by that I mean people who brought NOTHING into my life except their wants, their desires and support for THEIR goals in life I found out I could write again. In fact I improved and this year I plan on taking it to the next level.
However, there are times though when I start to feel like I don’t need that lost drop of blood in my veins and before I give it up, in my head me and that person who wants that tiny drop take a stroll through my head to where that bottomless well is and when we are done there I sit down and I start to write again.
“How a Braggart was Drowned in a Well”, Folio 33v from a Haft Paikar (Seven Portraits) of the Khamsa (Quintet) of Nizami of Ganja