There are times in your life that the Universe decides to throw you into situations that leave you asking the “What Ifs”; What if I hadn’t moved to that city? What if I hadn’t said “Yes” or “No”. What if I just ignored the rules or broke them, or, better yet, rewrote them? In each of these scenarios, one enters a sort of dream (or nightmare) state, picturing what life would be like - followed immediately by a stiff-ass drink because you know your shit would be up some creek, and whether or not you had a paddle would be debatable.
Being a staunch realist, only fraudulently living with a rose-colored optimist mindset, my brain thinks consequence first. I naturally contemplate the worst possible outcome, assume it will be, and then act presently surprised when it doesn’t happen. One might call that a pessimist…but in all truth, it seems to be to be as real as it gets. What is the worse that could happen, and then dial it back about 73% and that is what you get. “So”, I ask myself applying a semi-neurotic sense of logic to the equation, “if only 27% of the worst will happen, why not just revive the rebel within me and break the rules”?
Those of you that know me, know I push limits, boundaries, filters and every other possible proverbial line in the sand that presents itself, to its outer most limits…but I never violate the really important shit. And why not? Why don’t I act on impulse, explore the taboo, walk on the wild side? Simple – plain, unadulterated guilt. Sadly, thanks to the dominerring efforts of the Roman Catholic Church, guilt has overpowered my thoughts for the better part of my life.
Side note, I can't tell you how much that pisses me off to no end. Those lunatics have committed all kinds of fucked-up for centuries with little or no remorse and nobody seems to do damn thing about it, so why should I sit in judgement? But that’s another rant for another time.
It’s kind of pathetic really - the guilt I would feel for breaking the rules would eat me up so much, it would outweigh any temporary pleasure I might get out of breaking said rule in the first place. Which again, just irritates the fuck out of me because sometimes I REALLY REALLY want to bust out. But seeing as I am such a terrible lair, I can’t even succeed at lying to myself, let alone the rest of the world, so why bother?
All actions have a subsequent reaction – a consequence for their actuality. Good or bad, everything has a consequence. Some far greater than others, but all shape your life and existence as you know it.
That being said, this rule following June Cleaver shit is a whole new concept for me. If you would have asked me 10 years ago to stop whatever I was doing to drop a bunch of acid and run naked through the neighborhoods of Black Rock City, I wouldn’t have hesitated. Unprotected sex, reckless driving, cheating on boyfriends, jumping out of planes, bar fights (I am more of a screamer than a puncher, just so you know) how I survived some of my youthful mistakes is beyond me. My Guardian Angels deserve a hell of a pension for keeping me alive.
Do I sometimes miss those days? Sure, I do. Do I occasionally wish that I could just step out of Mommy/Wife mode, run away and reenact a scene out of Scarface – absolutely. But would I? Probably not. Why? Because even though that party girl will always be inside me, what’s at stake on the outside isn’t worth the risk anymore. I am so blessed in my life, I have so much to be grateful for - I would be a fucking IDIOT to jeopardize it. And honestly, I wouldn’t ever want to be the person that jeopardizes it for anyone else I care about either.
So, when the Universe decides to play its sick ass little games - testing you, tempting you, challenging your will, you have two choices – succumb or succeed. You can choose your own adventure on this one, but do so wisely after heavily weighing all that you have to gain or lose. For me, as damaging and disappointing and heartbreaking as it is sometimes, I am just too Type A to succumb. At the end of the day, the winner takes it all – and I refuse to be a loser.
Foul mouthed, outspoken and pretty much an eternal realist.