Limbo Rock

Jun. 7th, 2002 06:22 pm
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[personal profile] rinue
I'm not a fighter. Sure, I can best most opponents and enjoy a good brawl. Sure, I recklessly challenge ridiculous odds and leap into danger at the drop of a hat. But when I come up against a wall, I don't run at it with weapons flailing. I look for the chink, or I talk it down, or I climb it.

As a result, I do a lot of waiting. Waiting for the politic moment, or the one when no one's watching. Waiting for the right odds -- the right hand. Doing my research, honing my prep work, and waiting for the second when I can slip through the break in the radar. And if I get the stop order, even at the last second -- emotionally invested and halfway through the sting -- I drop my tools and walk away. I regroup and go back to waiting. I'm good at it.

As any soldier can tell you, "nothing" is The Most Stressful thing to do.

I'm in a place where I know that things are going down, on an instinctual gut level. It's why I stayed in town this weekend -- I am positive that I need to be here. True to form, five of my friends are in crisis on the "I can't stop crying and I never cry" level; death, isolation, and missing persons; distant fathers and buried resentment.

I can't help any of them right now on even a surface level.

All I can do is wait, and look to the long term. Work on the strategies while lieutenants take care of the tactics; hold on to my sanity with a guitar string.

Waiters are underappreciated.

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