Of Leaps and Lacks of Faith

 

Spend any amount of time on Pinterest searching for shirtless Chris Hemsworth, and Pinterest will eventually force horizons-expanding upon you. Not the good kind: shirtless Sebastian Stan, shirtless Tom Hardy, shirtless Evans & Pine. Shirtless Turkish models with intensely blue eyes.

 
No, Pinterest will swamp your screen with QUOTES. As a slinger of ink and tapper of text, I am usually down for quotes. Oh, someone said something in a super memorable way? Do tell. But I am generally not down with unattributed inspirational quotes.

 
Oh, I pin plenty. Because if you sub potty language for certain key words, or choose to use a different meaning for “grind”, or simply add “if someone thinks you drink too much…” before the quote, nearly every one of those quotes becomes my kind of wrong humor.

 
But I am trying to believe in those quotes. I’m trying to drink the Kool-Aid. I am trying to be relentlessly, grimly optimistic in world that’s doing its best to be a wet cat turd on the hallway rug. I am trying to be relentlessly, grimly optimistic even while knowing if there is a wet cat turd around, I will step in that little plop of fishy soft serve.

 
I believe in my abilities, most of the time. I believe in myself hardly never. All those Pinterest quotes claiming that the way to self-confidence goes through doing things you’re scared to do. I am scared all the time, and I do the damn things most of the time, and I never get a boost of self-confidence.

 
I crash. Ugly fall. Ugly fail? Ugly cry. It’s all ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Sometimes I’m relieved I got through the thing. Mostly I’m re-hashing and bashing every little detail and finding fault upon fault. It’s a tough jam for a writer, and such a waste of my heart..

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