Friends say stupid shit sometimes. They aren't true friends if they can't get comfortable enough to slip up on occasion. I say stupid shit sometimes. I'm human. Sometimes I forget that.
Sometimes I'm an introverted artist hermit, half writer, half words on paper or screen. Half paintbrush, half a bottle of wine.
Other times I'm a cat or dog or crow, or a hornet, or a baby raven, or the mouse that mysteriously broke into my parked car and nibbled my vacuum sealed oatmeal and cracked open one of my lara bars while I was backpacking for four days. I'm not a shapeshifter, but when I vibe the life around me, I really get into the zone. I do this with humans, too, which is why it took me a minute to digest this statement:
"It's good to see you're finding the value in spending time with other people."
Rather than my knee-jerk reaction of smiling it off and making fake friendly statements about better-get-going I should have said this:
"You know, you're right. I spent the last 43 years of my life underground--feeding crows, petting my dog, and scribbling nonsense on little pieces of paper, only coming out in the dead of night to collect grocery deliveries and amazon packages from my cavestoop. It's been a miserable and solitary existence not fronting rock bands or going on road trips with friends, not driving a thousand miles each year to visit family, or flying four thousand miles to meet new friends in Europe, or even knowing you for the last five years. I truly had no concept of the value of spending time with other people, let alone the joy I would derive from witnessing their acts of verbal contortionism. Do you need help getting that foot out of your mouth, by the way?"
Instead I left, and I let myself forget about it until the quiet alone hours of editing Baby Raven photos brought the emotional stew from the back burner to the forefront of my thoughts. Until the solitude of my introverted seclusion forced my feelings to be felt and all my defensiveness spilled out like white ink onto a black night's plutonian shore.
Quoth the raven: fuck off.
This is my entry for the #monomad challenge, held daily in the Black and White Community.
Give it a try. I dare you.
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All the stuff (pictures, words, etc.) I put in this post and any of my other posts is mine (unless otherwise stated) and can't be used by anyone else, not even Baby Raven, unless I say it's ok.
Raven sure has a way with words, timing, dodging, weaving it's way into solitude.
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Lol, yes Raven does. #belikeraven 🖤
Big and beautiful with attitude....
I think everyone can say whatever they want, you have your own conversations and they are very nice. So whatever they do or whatever they say, when they touch me like that, I just look at them and smile. I like to be alone most of the time. People have behaviours and habits that don't have much to do with mine.
Anyway, you know I love the way you put words together.
😌
Ultimately it was about examining why his words upset me so much, and that reason was because I still feel some shame in being different from others. Even though those differences make me the person I am most happy and proud to be...
There's always work to be done. Always room for growth.
fist bump to my fellow creative introvert 🖤
Thanks @brumest and @qurator crew!
Tell 'em! Fuckem!
Yeah fuckem all!!!! lol
wonderful photographs, it is a beautiful work in black and white
Thank you @gabrielacarrasco!