No More Chicken
In the past month, I’ve realised that I’ve been an idiot. I’ve kept myself in a nice, warm cocoon, all safe and sound. It’s a great survival tactic, but not so much a way of life. Because somewhere down the line, to qualify as a living being, you have to LIVE. Definitions vary, naturally, but the way I see it, doing 10 hours at work and then heading straight home like a blinkered lemming is no way to go about it.
The thing is, and I can’t believe it took a major life change for me to realise this, I was scared. Of a lot of things, but most of all OF HAVING FUN. I was scared to step outside my comfort zone, as the self-help books put it (not that I would know, having only once picked up How To Win Friends And Influence People to use as a paperweight). Because I was afraid of… something.
Because, at its worst, fear achieves nothing. You fill your head with seemingly rational what-ifs – What if I get drunk? What if I’m late? What if it looks bad? What if it looks too sexy? – and they eat away at you, making you a bad replica of the person you could be. You know, like a fake pair of Nikes that give way on your second run.
And the solution is so friggin’ simple, I’m absolutely AMAZED I didn’t think of it before.
Replace the what-ifs with so-whats.
What if I get hurt? So what if I get hurt? What if someone takes offence? So what if someone takes offence? What if I make an ass of myself? SO WHAT IF I MAKE AN ASS OF MYSELF?
As Metallica put it so poetically, “SO FUCKING WHAT?”
Rip out the band-aid. Look into the barrel of the gun. Pee into the wind. Consequences will follow. Cause will have effect. And astoundingly, the world will continue to spin. People will forget. So will you. And all will be hunky-friggin’-dory.
It’s all a matter of time. And we’ve got plenty of that to go around.