Okay, here goes. Tired of feeling tired. And why do I feel so tired you might ask? Well, that would be because I am unreservedly, indubitably SFOS... so full of shit. And I have pretended for so long that I am not; or perhaps just a LITTLE bit full of shit. Which is illogical; either you are full of it or you are not. And if you are not, then you have more than likely ascended or you are dead.
There is a wonderful sense of liberation... a leavening that comes with accepting that you are, and have been for most of your adult life – SFOS.
And you can wipe that supercilious smirk of your handsome face mat, because you are also SFOS. You too over there Blondie, raising those perfectly threaded brows, fluttering those lux lashes fortified by a weasel`s pelt and looking down Daddy`s 16th birthday gift of a nose. Yes, you are also SFOS my dear.
We are all full of it. And the sooner we come to terms with the SFOS factor in our lives, the easier it will get. We will be happier, healthier... and yes, still full of it. We are emotionally, spiritually and elementally constipated (and probably physically too, if I may be so forthright). If we all accepted the mundanity of it, our world would become a simpler, more peaceful place. No more needing to prove you are right and the other is wrong. No more `other!` Just, "Hi! My name is Penelope and I`m SFOS." –"Oh. Pleased to meet you Ben, glad to hear that you are full of it too!"
Furthermore, while on the subject of the SFOS-iness of moi, I must add that this includes the fact that I am an unmitigated bitch and a hypocrite – a liar, a cheat, a thief and a whore. And most probably a whole list of other unsavory things I am yet to uncover.
Now, you out there may be thinking, "Poor soul. What an unacceptable level of self-loathing she labors under." Not so my friend. I humbly suggest that to live in the discomfort of this revelation is quite the opposite. For to do so and not be crushed by the weight of it one must be light of heart and know... truly know that it is all meaningless. It is all really just the same. The good, the bad, the ugly; the brave, the frail, the beautiful. It is only our judgement...our fear that creates the dissonance.
Even though I attempt to accept with Grace, even embrace my bouts of insanity, I am in no way suggesting we should act on the prompting a of our so called lower nature, or succumb to any psychopathic urging, but merely bring the unspeakable from the shadows and not deny their presence. If we keep the pieces of our nature we would prefer not to acknowledge hidden, crouching in caverns we dare not enter, they will eventually surface of their own accord and live in our world as fate. We will be poisoned, and project them on to the face of another... and ultimately onto the collective mind.
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