I love medicine. Medicine, in most cases, is the truth. The medicines I speak of here are not the ones that solely act to mask the symptoms of our diseases and disorders. No, I’m talking about the kind that tastes like puree’d pork liver, seasoned with liquefied dung beetle brain. That’s the real deal right there.
How sweet it is though to be cured of one’s impurities in every way. I come to write this blog tonight because of a little of the old “give and take” aspect of human interaction. You see, a lot of us like to be that person that people go to in times of need. We just LOVE giving advice, and some of us actually give the right advice. And the right advice is always the most difficult to hear and follow.
However, it’s not always this clean. “Give and take” has other forms. For example, one of the main ways in which I judge a person’s character is by how well they can take equal parts of the shit they spew. I have a strange personality, in that, people just seem to love to push my buttons. What I don’t understand about people is this is a rather easy accomplishment. It doesn’t take much to get my wheels turning. It doesn’t take much to get a rise out of me. I’m reactionary by nature, and yes, I’m working on it. But until I have myself mastered, YOU will have to deal with the shit you start.
Case in point: This afternoon, someone did something without thinking. Thinking seems to be far too much a chore for this person, and it’s only because we’re related that I’ve been spending so much time with this person, but that changes after tomorrow. As agitated as I was, yet knowing that it would’ve been best to keep my mouth shut, my patience wore thin, and I pointed out the stupidity. Immediately, this person went on defense, so I let the matter go. I was content making my thoughts known. A few minutes later, he started up again, but this time, he used his stupidity as a tool to poke fun at me. For a little while, I stayed quiet. I tried to keep my mouth shut because I didn’t want to worry my mother.
The little while didn’t last long, and I couldn’t help but feed this joker exactly the same shit he was trying to feed me. He demanded my respect in a manner best reserved for this person’s son, who’s a major fuckup in training. When I reminded him of this indesputable fact, his shit-eating grin disappeared, and his temperature began to rise. The worst assumption this person made, which I notice a couple other people making, was that I should fear him, for whatever reason. I don’t. When that was made clear, being that he’s not a thinker, his temper was about to boil over when my mother came out of the kitchen, and grabbed his head to calm him down.
Medicine is the truth, and it’s a goddamn shame so few people are able to man up and handle their own fucking spoonful.