Sunday, March 17, 2013

cockamamie cocks

Why must Instagram keep reminding me of people from my past? Oh right... Because it is INSTAGRAM. The Internet is a minefield, baby. Proceed with caution.

That paragraph above is sure goofy. My writing has become sloppy. "Goofy" and "sloppy"? Are these two of the updated seven little dwarfs? Why do they need to update the dwarfs? And oh my god, did I really just call them "little dwarfs"? A little redundant, Meg. Goofy, Sloppy, Loony, Whiny, Wacky, Cockamamie, and Meggie. There. Updated.

Here's something goofy to chew on: Why is it that the self-proclaimed feminist men end up being the most sexist men? This directly relates back to those darn loony Instagram pics I keep coming across... I see your mug on my phone and I am Insta-instantly reminded of why we are no longer on speaking terms. Yes, I am talking about you and you (and you, although I don't see pictures of you on my phone, I just see flashes of you in therapy sessions). You boys sure bum me out, or at least bummed me out, on a consistent basis. Your God complex gets in the way of common decency. Will you ever consider this and maybe make some changes or will you forever be in arrested development? Not to be a cockamamie pessimist (?), but I'm going to go ahead and bet on the latter. Well, let it be, folks. Let it be.

"Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It's a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity." ― Pema Chödrön, The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times

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