it’s not that i expect things to make sense, oh hell no. i expect the inexplicable, i expect the very worst of it (well, i try, the worst often manages to manifest itself in heretofore undreamt-of levels of what the fuck?). hell, i even make an effort to be pessimistic, since it’s my dreamer’s nature to consider all things possible, because anything can happen, and has, on several occasions.
and then something comes so randomly out of left blue nowhere and blindsides me, not necessarily because of its bizarreness, that’s normal, but with the sudden overwhelming knowledge that not only am i not prepared to deal with this, i can’t deal with it. my mind, which has faced some horrifying truths in its time, has rarely faced things it has not, in some way, prepared for. worry isn’t all counterproductive, running negative outcomes through the mind prepares the pathways to deal with them in life. when you can turn around and say, you know, i was afraid this would happen — you’re saying many comforting things: 1, this is a logical outcome because it was among my predicitons; 2, having expected it on some level, i am now in familiar territory; and of course 3, look, i was right. now, i’m not advocating more worry, or less worry, i have no idea if people in general tend to worry too much or too little, just that a good balance in this is a good thing.
but no matter how much you worry, there will come a time somthing you never thought to worry about is going to come into your life like a random chunk of frozen blue shitwater off a passing jet plane, only in this case you will know what hit you. and that is all you will know. and to know anything further, you must in some way understand what it is you don’t know that you need to, and you know that is going to take some time. the questions are always harder than the answers, i’ll take a good question over its answer anyday, a good question is where everything begins.
well i have no idea where or how to begin, or even if i should. maybe i should remain utterly silent and make no sudden movements, maybe i should fashion a crude weapon out of paperclips, a rhododendron, and a can of aerosol cheez, or maybe i should just run like hell. i don’t know! i don’t know how to know! i don’t know how to not care which is the logical next step in this, why care when there’s no way to know what the fuck to do and therefore it doesn’t fucking matter? or does it. how would i know?
the more i think about it, worry really is a complete waste of time. because the worst that can happen is the unexpected, everything else is is cake. with frosting and sprinkles and yummy custard filling.