Nobody calls me chicken.
McFly, your shoes untied. I've recently come to the conclusion that I am the anti-McFly. My whole life I've been the biggest chicken and I never even knew it until now. This last week it hit me how I have no cajones. How could I have gone through my whole life without realizing that I have no guts? I am freaked out of everything.
Anyone could call me chicken and I wouldn't be offended. It's the truth. But at the same time I don't know if I care to rectify the situation. I am perfectly content with being chicken so much so that up until last week I didn't even acknowledge that I was one. All this time I just considered myself to be living by what is socially acceptable.
Maybe having manners and always trying to act in an appropriate way is merely a means of being a coward. Society conditions us to be chicken. We are taught from an early age to be guarded because rejection is a horrible thing. Why is rejection so bad? If we just accepted the fact that not everything and everyone has to love us then maybe we would take more chances.
But great rewards can only be sought or achieved through greater risk. But to fail is to look foolish. With all the good plastic surgeons these days why are we all still scared we might fall on our faces. I never like my face to begin with so what is the big deal if I get a few scratches?
Now that I know I am a complete and utter chicken, I might try to remedy it. But the gut still holds me back. The power of a nervous stomach has the ultimate control over ones actions. The butterflies incapacitate all reason. But how does a turtle come out of his shell? He just does it. That is how I overcome being chicken. I just overcome it. Use the lack of logic to my advantage. Don't over think things.
Thinking is what gets us in trouble in the first place. Great Scots that's the answer. If you don't want to be chicken then don't be chicken. I think it's time to switch to the other white meat. Sometimes you have to go above 88mph in order to see what's on the other side of the space-time continuum. So you can call me chicken just don't put Baby in the corner.
Anyone could call me chicken and I wouldn't be offended. It's the truth. But at the same time I don't know if I care to rectify the situation. I am perfectly content with being chicken so much so that up until last week I didn't even acknowledge that I was one. All this time I just considered myself to be living by what is socially acceptable.
Maybe having manners and always trying to act in an appropriate way is merely a means of being a coward. Society conditions us to be chicken. We are taught from an early age to be guarded because rejection is a horrible thing. Why is rejection so bad? If we just accepted the fact that not everything and everyone has to love us then maybe we would take more chances.
But great rewards can only be sought or achieved through greater risk. But to fail is to look foolish. With all the good plastic surgeons these days why are we all still scared we might fall on our faces. I never like my face to begin with so what is the big deal if I get a few scratches?
Now that I know I am a complete and utter chicken, I might try to remedy it. But the gut still holds me back. The power of a nervous stomach has the ultimate control over ones actions. The butterflies incapacitate all reason. But how does a turtle come out of his shell? He just does it. That is how I overcome being chicken. I just overcome it. Use the lack of logic to my advantage. Don't over think things.
Thinking is what gets us in trouble in the first place. Great Scots that's the answer. If you don't want to be chicken then don't be chicken. I think it's time to switch to the other white meat. Sometimes you have to go above 88mph in order to see what's on the other side of the space-time continuum. So you can call me chicken just don't put Baby in the corner.
posted by Whit at 2:05 PM
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