I refuse to subscribe to the school of popular belief
and action, reigning attitudes and stances.
Or
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It does not always work though – my intent. It is usually strong, but sometimes I get
caught up in the gang-ho and find myself prancing right in the middle of the
crowd. I just slip right in, without
question or mental qualm. And it is great
fun. And I really enjoy it. Plus it’s safe. Because I am with everyone else. Warm and comfortable. Nice and cuddly. Wallowing in our unified kumbaya of thought
and or deed.
But sometimes I say no. Refuse to slide into the mire. Of the crowd thought. Which leaves me some options. I can, one, choose to stand across the road instead,
and watch the show. Two, hotfoot it out
of there, either because I know my intent’s will strength versus succumbing
ration is low [or high – I never understood that ratio class] but essentially boils
down to the fact that I might give in.
Or hotfoot it out of there because I just cannot stand to watch the show
– it’s either painful, or it really just doesn’t matter to me.
Vacating the scene starts a mental fight. Sometimes.
Rarely though, as I think I have become more adept at sidestepping or
inured to popular opinion and thought, I pause just around the corner and
examine my decision. It perturbs
me. Itches. And I have to scratch it. In my brain.
It just will not go away. Sometimes
I pause for days. I ask myself, should I
have stayed, sang the song, learnt the dance steps? I wonder, am I missing something major, do
they know something I do not know?
Mental scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, then look under my nail to
see if anything, comes off. Pick pick
pick on it. Until it becomes sore. Sore and lonely. I imagine, the crowd saw me walk away, what
are they thinking about me, saying about me? Maybe, I should change my mind and just get
into their programme?
Unpause, turn the corner, hop onto my bus and away. The further away I get from the crowd, the
faster the scab form over my mental sore, and the healing happens. Rationalised to change or reinforce my
attitude. My beliefs. My behaviour.
But I did not get bandwaggoned. Not today.
Maybe tomorrow. We’ll see.
image from www.cartoonstock.com
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