Actually, I'm so obstinate today that I'm going to obstinately refuse to let anyone label my attitude as "bad" (it's their label, why don't they wear it).
It's just that I'm suddenly and immediately tired of people telling me how to act and what I should do with MY activism. 'Get up, we can't give up - we need to try harder, more times more often, more vigourously, more happilty, and with a bigger fucking grin of insanity on our faces.'
Not this mf'er. When I get kicked in the teeth, I bleed. I often notice I'm bleeding, too. And then depending on how bad I'm hurt, I either swear, get medical attention, or both. And then I take some time to recover before I bite into something like a bar of peanut brittle (or a political party), again.
Some people would call that smart. Somehow though the intellligence behind the concept of healing up and taking a minute to reevaluate the circumstance of why and how your-teeth-got-knocked-out-in-the-first-place is lost on some. So for their sake, let me explain why one would want to avoid biting something hard right after losing half their teeth.
Why?
(A) Because it fucking hurts to bite peanut brittle with a mouthful of open wounds
AND
(B) because I could probably make it a lot further into that brick of peanut brittle if I take a little time to heal up right. Not only is the idea of eating with blood running everywhere much less appealing to me, I can imagine everyone else in the world won't feel the worse off for missing the site of me like that either.
So (horrors) does that mean I'll never eat peanut brittle again??? That I'll be damning myself to a life meaningless...left to wander without the sweet nectar of peanut brittle?
Well, unless I develop a severe allergy - probably fucking not.
...and, if you are somehow feeling like God's calling for you is to save me from myself and my satanic oath to fix my mouth and swear off peanut brittle for a few days - let me be the first to invite you to stow it.
This dog doesn't need kicking when he's down. He'll get up when he's good and ready, but in the meantime there's other things for me to do. There's more to life than peanut brittle.
(
Crossposted at My Left Wing)