two wrongs don't make a right but IDGAF:
Cold wet stone
River deep and red
Your cold heart beats inside my head
You know too well
It was me that brought you here
Ohhh trouble get behind me now
Trouble let me be
I pray your mercy shine on me
Trouble let me be -- Dave Matthews
I suppose I should be used to it by now. At least I like to imagine that the differences aren't so glaring to others as they are to me. But then, I'm inside myself and can see my own feelings reflected in my actions. As much as I like to think so, I can't really know what others are thinking. I'm sure they see things in me that I don't even know exist. Maybe they don't exist. It's sometimes hard to know where another's perceptions leave off and my own begin.
Sometimes I want to stay the chameleon. I want to pretend to care about things that I don't. I want to find enough solace in God and Country and Family. I want this longing to just... go. It can't be about the Grass Is Always Greener, because I've never even seen the grass. I don't even know if it is grass. Maybe it's flowers. Or maybe it's a craggy, rocky landscape. I've a sneaking suspicion it's the latter.
But this damn blog makes it harder and harder for me to be anything other than myself; unadulterated, uncut. And to be that person is to put myself out there. The palisade around my soul is falling away, stick by stick. I flay myself open and I wait.
The rabbits play in our yard. They must be siblings or inbred cousins because they all look so alike. Two of them start some sort of cute bunny dance. They stand up and rush at each other, propelled by powerful hindquarters, stopping just short of knocking heads. Then one leaps over the other as the issue is pushed into something more serious. He looks back in surprise. It's taken the rabbit a minute to realize that what started as play has becomes intricate moves in a fight.
A challenge has been issued and the the rabbit must be thinking, "You've got me mixed with someone else, surely? I've done nothing... I just am. Why has that offended you?"
The dance continues - two rabbits, ears flat against their backs, barely making a dent in the pristine crust of snow. Finally a clear victor emerges, but I can't tell if it's the instigator or the defender because they all look so much alike.