Inward. Plank Adjustment.
A no editing , no AI literature introspection.
If I start by saying it’s been a minute.
It would be cliche.
It would be artistic murder.
Because it’s a sentiment that is just factual.
It’s also repeated and jaded.
But it’s also true.
Also me.
Also like a therapist repeating an axiom, or is it maxim?
Whatever means non legal disclaimer
That sets the tone consistently.
I must get in the mood.
I must enter into the mode.
But more so I must condition you to receive.
Stalling, so appalling.
It’s come to my attention that I am only giving scraps. I’m in a relationship that pampers me, and I love it. We got dysfunction that is disproportionally skewed my way. For so long I thought dating was modern. I invested in carving tools to become a modern man. You know, cook, clean, be domestic. Whilst being tapped into that version of masculine so manly that chores don’t dull my bravado. It’s like being so much of a man that pink nails raise no eye brows. It gets the girls feeling like you know their struggle and makes the dudes bow in respect.
Cause why you getting all the girls dressed in mini skirt?!!
Relationship Repetition.
If I drive you crazy in here. It’s because I’m trying to spill the whole tea without disrespecting my woman or myself. I learnt that the hard way but I am also bursting with words and thoughts that need to be combed and plaited. There are roads in that hair but the unkeptedness makes it’s untenable. So you will have to color in the shades of brown that hide in plain sight.
Patriarchy.
If you think I am definitely saying that I am woven from the patriarchal participation society. You are right! If you also think that I am modern and evolved. You are also right.
I am a chameleon that wants to be obvious and distinct.
I am still trying to figure out why though and that is why I am not sticking.
- Why should I be not cunning? Even the Bible says it okay just be dove gentle.
- Why should I be a reference point and consistent ? When I just wanna morph.
- Why should I not exercise my divine capability in adaptation? When my story is deep because it is rich in texture and culture.
- Why should I fall prey to monochromatic eye sore ?
But none of that means a lack of effort?
None of that means a fair weather nature?
Temptations of MisCommunication.
So we almost fought.
First of all, the problem is that we rarely fight.
We are both shut down artists by nature and by default.
For a few months there I thought I was grown and mature and better.
I was communicating my feelings as soon as they knocked on my door.
I was training her to do the same.
She saw an example of a leader in me and it felt sooting like a cold Dutch chocolate.
But now, my petty is back, ish.
I guess that is what this journal entry is about.
I am tired of being switched on.
Being the one to note the temperature is off, puncture it. And make out to another successful war aversion.
I imagine this is what the orbit around the President feels like. Those diplomats paid to avert conflicts before and after the escalate.
Except in my case, it’s like I get rich if the wars I have sold my life to prevent.
Do you not know how sharp my mind gets when I can hone in on crushing my most emotional competition? When hate and love flip a coin and I bask in the second before the coin quiets. Like a Russian roulette, it might be suicide or it might be full throttle life!
Anyways.
It’s time to puncture the stinking air. I just don’t understand how we can consistently be co workers in an office and no one is yelling:
Who farted???
Why do I have to raid a hand or my voice and state the absolutely darn obvious thing.
Every body laughs!
But I gotta be the comedian? And Everytime?
But you see, this is what team works is and what shortcomings look like.
Patriarchy Revisited.
When I wake up every morning and thank the stars that I got a woman that is docile to me and lioness in the world. When I am thankful that she literally fights me to depend on her. When I am grateful that she just needs me to take out the trash and be a man. When I say be a man, I mean whatever version of man that she revers and respects.
I was thankful. But I was also a dick.
I feel like I lucked into this by nonchalance and indifference. She likes the version of me that cares deeply but not enough. But that was a version not the whole me? Because I am a certified lover boy that just wants to please his woman. I am sooo not gangsta that I am afraid I might pass for a lazy woman. You know one of those that got no home training.
A man that is not handy but also thinks is the prize.
Yes it’s confusing. Yes, you have my permission to get stuck on the prize part. It’s not really how I see myself but it’s an accurate depiction of the conundrum.
The real story here is that I am afraid. I am soft. I am seeing the cracks unfold.
I am afraid that I must either confirm into what she likes. Or I must confirm into who I like. Except who I like is not a fixed person. It’s an emotional effervescent shape shifter.
Concise.
Concrete.
Amorphous.
The ONLY thing.
She is happy to do it all.
Make the money.
Bathe me.
Pack my lunch.
Clean the house.
I just need to be her man.
But therein lies the museum piece.
Her man.
Is the emphasis on man or her or both words together?
Where do I fit?
What is the consequences of me not being him?
Is it true that I cannot NOT be her man?
Does that allow me to go crazy ?
How do I allow her and enable me too?
Why is it hard to rest in that?
Why do I feel guilty because it feels like patriarchy?
Why does it feel so good and so natural?
Why do I care soo much for her but I care too little to take off her plate?
Answers.
This is a volleyball serve. I’ll be back for the spike.