Sunday 8 December 2013

I've been up to something naughty lately. Something I shouldn't be doing, something that will put me in a world of trouble if I got caught, something that is gonna backfire like a bitch some day. And I've been rationalising it and exploring the corners and testing reactions from the environment. All this, because I have to sit for 9 hours a day in sub zero temps and there really isn't much else to do but dig your own scorpion pit.

But let me tell you something. Thrice I was told not to do it, warned and threatened. Thrice I did it anyway. Perhaps only I understood the need to do it. This is all my universe, my set in which this is happening. Real world didn't really notice how I perceive it all. Even when the General told me that if I did it (after I've already done it), he would be embarrassed that I've shamed myself and put myself in such a position, I believed that it needed to be done. It needed to be done. It will need to be done two more times, I think, before it's completely rewarding. Someday. In it's natural course. There are some issues one carries around, that, like all demons, all fear, all fantasy, grow over their frame, hollow and foolish, but they linger and linger still. You walk into a room and there they wait and you can't think of anything else. You feel like you have no control over them. Well, that's just horse shit. Sometimes puncturing them solves it, other times it just deflates, one harsh reality blow after another. 

A miserable, cold December is the exactly right time to bullshit your way through a mental/emotional loop, that's been a thorn in your side for the better part of a decade. I'll miss it when it's gone, but good riddance, idiotic issue. 

Granted, it could have happened in the opposite direction and then I would really be in a world of hurt. But it didn't. It happened how I needed and expected it to happen. The mater became embarrassing and then it became banal. And then it became boring. Now I'm just, well, as General told me I would be and he would get angry at me for acting so unworthy, mildly humiliated it ever mattered to me at all. But he couldn't purge it by force and I could. With a trick. Nobody in the whole wide world knew what was happening and no one ever will. Save perhaps the General, who would be able to piece it together, if he wanted, or if he asked I would tell him everything. If you ask me, feeling a little bit stupid now was worth it. Cause tomorrow it will feel like I got rid of a really big tick.

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