nirbhao

we've all got our little toolbox of interaction mechanism. our tricks and secrets that we can pull out at a moment's notice when needed. the things that make us useful, capable, and functional in society.

me? well, to start I've got that smoldering gaze. I've got a killer smile. I've got a quick wit and I hold people accountable for their actions. I'm honest and sincere, and I've found that respect can go a long way.

in order to be functional human beings, we also have to have expectations. we expect, when invited to a party, for example, that there will be refreshments. thus, when throwing a party, we know either to provide or to notify invitees to fend for themselves. the evil little secret of expectations is that they serve on the opposite side of the coin of our social skills, as it were.

when our expectations aren't met, we fumble. what to do? sure, we may have a backup plan ready in waiting for having failed expectations, such as a rant to a friend when a family member does something unreasonable, but it's not a solution. our friends will listen, even sympathize and offer solutions, but the unreasonable family member's actions remain.

for example.

there is a leonard cohen song, everybody knows, that I had to listen to a few times before I realized what it was about. he looked in his little toolbox of songwriting skills and made a catchy, rockin' tune that encompassed a whole hell of a lot more than his measely little relationship and the infidility going on to make a very powerful song. his expectations weren't met, and he probably ranted to a friend. hell, for all I know, he punched a hole in a wall. but that's not what the song is about. the song is about the deepest betrayals in our society including, but not limited to, being cheated on.

I listed a few of the tools in my box (the proverbial box, not the real one-- perverts), but my expectations outweigh my tools. I am full of expectations and expecting.

and I am tired of it.

I'm tired of questions unasked and unanswered. I'm tired of not knowing whether it's okay to call- and then calling anyway. I'm tired of not knowing.

and I, the queen of communication, want some privacy.

I've been open about being bipolar, open about my heart condition, about about rape and molestation and the involved violence. I've been a public "blogger" for years. I always protect the privacy of those around me, but I have nothing to hide and so I haven't.

(long pause)

if you would like a postcard from Mackinac Island, send me a message with your addess.