Monday, November 12, 2018

Episode 134 ~It’s Okay If They Don’t…~

Fifty-Eighth Rule Madam Justice

How To Make One Million Dollars? If anything don’t apologize for how you make it, Tupac Shakur said it best “whether rhyme or crime I’m getting mine” but here’s the thing, if you’re going to be a worker be the best damn worker. If you’re a thief, then accept it; pornstar, writer, jock, don’t be sorry. My General Manager told me once that people didn’t get me *sigh* I should have said “where in my job description it is written I have to help people understand me hmm” so don’t.

Being honest this is the second half of Rule 057: They Don’t Understand Your Shit; so the premise is that people won’t understand you regardless of it being good, bad, or otherwise, you have to be okay with you. If it means, you have to cut people out, or they walk away, don’t change for nobody; my “father” used to tell me to be myself, and he didn’t like me, to this day I meet people he knows, and they say “I didn’t know he had a son.” I’ve grown to accept my status as an “Unperson,” and the thing is people don’t understand why anyone doesn’t want to be like them; have you seen how many “Trumps” we have?

I’ve also told you about how tired I am saying sorry because in a way it merely serves as another excuse for things that I know nothing about and even if I do we all handle things differently than others. One of my coworkers was telling me about his dog passing away, his love leaving him, his truck finally giving up on him and what am I supposed to say, what knowledge can I impart *ahem* Will’s Writings, Witticisms, And Wisdom, ironic hmm? If something happened to “B III” the last thing I would be doing is working, can’t say a girl I love has left me, I’m perpetually studying that word, and I have two cars and as long as I’m not staying at my parents’ house on Thanksgiving…

Finally, it’s the idea that people aren’t okay with themselves and their “Stuff And Thangs” so they have to make something wrong with you, so they appear normal, and the sad thing is, the world in which I have come to understand makes them “Average Joes.” The big question, is it okay if I don’t understand me, do I understand my shit; my answer is a resounding “Hell to da Naw,” and one day I have to look into the mirror and say, it’s okay if I don’t know and It’s Okay If They Don’t…

I Will Have No Fear