Dereliction of Duty

I have been derelict again. I vow to write; then I procrastinate. Ten days gone by without a word. I started to write something yesterday, something controversial, then I thought: "Who will I hurt with this?"

That angered me...against myself. I was hurting myself by not writing.

The truth is: we all deserve pain. Because we all try to sustain ourselves with lies, denials, avoidance. We 'kill the messenger' because we don't want the truth of the message. It pops our balloon of convenience and self-deception.

You have to hurt someone when you write (or say) the truth. There is not universal agreement on anything. The truth demands the dispensing of pain to someone, somewhere. So we often, to avoid giving general pain, we select a target we see as 'deserving'. Which leads to politically correct diatribes against whomever is outre at the moment; at least outre my reference group of friends and loved ones...or, even more importantly, those whom I want to pay the bills.

To tell the truth I suppose you have to be angry at someone. Or perhaps, it helps even more to be angry at everyone. Then...the shackles are off. Let the word games begin.

So I have started writing again by being angry at myself.

Sad, isn't it?

I have GOT to start being angry at others...in public, to make my all-too-frequent private rants public. The truth? I need love and acceptance too much.

Now that is sad. To need others (and their acceptance) so much that I refuse to be true to myself. Because...the truth is (and I will state it here): I am mad...at the universe: to be born destined to die? Now there's a sad truth no one wants to hear. I will join you in 'killing that messenger.' Off with his head. But not his pen.

Or his computer. I am writing again! For a moment I am not mad.