I'm the sort of person who NEEDS to write.
Most of the time I am honest to know that it is drivel...like a better part of this blog.
Don't get me wrong, this blog will not give us world peace or even a pony, it's just my warped point of view with the occasional recipe or cat post or rant oh the day.
When shit pisses me off, I blog it.
When shit makes me bat shit insanely happy , I blog it.
When it hits the mark as too close to home, I may write it, read it and delete it. It gives validity to the feelings of the moment and usually I can move on or at least feel somewhat better and safe in knowing that I didn't put my shit out there or embarrass myself in real life.
Until tonight.
This may sound stupid and I don't care...my blog.
Someone I adore more than my shoes posted a snarky quiz answer about me that just cut me to the soul.
Before I go any further..No SU....I won't say who so just don't ask....asking will piss me off.
I used to not address shit like this...figuring they didn't mean it or I misunderstood it, emphasis on my misunderstanding it as to give the other person the get out of jail free card...aka doormat mode...but no more.
I sent a private reply letting the author know that they had in fact hurt my feelings very much and that I would not take a shot at them in a public forum...because I just WON'T do that.
I will neither troll nor flame.
But I will also no longer let this sort of shit go unaddressed.
And no..I am not going to apologize for the indelicate language.
My Blog.
I am going to take Seneca's viewpoint in that I may not be able to control the events within my life but I will control my response to them and therefore I choose to no longer let shit slide.
Carry On.
Ciao,
Aunty Pol
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