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June Renew: Day Nine

The problem I’m running into is there’s no one around to keep me in check. No one who can lasso me and my thoughts when they start bucking wildly. I suppose that’s what a partner or a close friend is for, but I’m pretty much on my own right now. This ain’t my first solo rodeo either. I’ve never had a problem being by myself. The problem is in this day and age, when so many unprecedented stories are just bursting at the seams, what’s to stop me from herding myself onto the crazy corral? Who will tell me when enough is enough and it’s time to get grounded? Or will I discover that old dusty trail was the right one to go down all along?

I know its not feasible to have someone agree with literally every single thing I think, but where’s the cowboy who’ll mosey on over and at least let me speak? It’s like there’s such fear I have into saying my real feelings when I’m worried someone may send me out to pasture for saying so. I remember the guy I dated when I was 20 having some strong opinions about the political climate at the time. It was 2006, so Bush was president. He was a liberal so he clearly didn’t like him. And, at the time, I didn’t care for him much either, but felt he was getting a bad wrap. So it bothered me hearing such crap being talked about the president at the time, but I had no brass balls to say anything back. It wasn’t his fault. He just had thoughts. And if I can’t wrangle up the same courtesy for myself, I may as well brand myself a Grade-A loser.

I suppose one of these days there will be someone who not only can corral my crazy, but actually wants to do so. It takes a big act of caring to tell your loved one when to shut the fuck up. To say, “Whoa, girl,” and back away. Untethered and unchained though, I have all sorts of places my mind could go. And based on current events, I may be more right than all the other free-range folks think I am. Only time will tell. Until then, I’ve got every intention of just being this person until the cows come home. No need to roll over and buy the farm when there’s plenty of good stuff to hitch my wagon to.

Words yesterday: 1,165. All caught up. No idea what I wrote.

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