Strong in the broken places

The old stand by rant is ever ready to be written, partially on principle and partially because I don't know how the hell else to protest a personal injustice. It's like going hunting. (I think, I've never been hunting,yet I digress.) You don't know what's in there until you flush it out. Once it's out you can decide. I think life is a lot like that;, but way more I need to write a blog on editing my emotions, so that they're less damning in the event that they're read. I don't need people to read this, I just have to write it. No matter how embarrassing it is, when I write it down it gets better. I exercise the demons. I know some men with really great emotional intelligence, but still I wonder if I would get the same satisfaction if I just went hunting. I've written like 400 drafts in the last 2 days. Some of them start great, some of them say exactly what I want, but none of them seem to exercise the demons. I have written, and written, but I haven't felt spent. It's as if I've had 400 epiphanys. Sometimes I write because I love words. I love to put words on a page, I love how you can manipulate word. I love song lyrics. I love the emotions that you can illicit. Words can be super sexy. If you manipulate them. I have this dilema, where I believe people. I'm not sure if it's because I want the words to be true, or because my intuition is giving the go ahead. Then I start to wonder about the intergrity of words. It's mildly disabling to live in a world where you have to expect people to lie. Maybe it's just a matter of finding that happy medium between expecting people to lie and just not saying anything, unless your certain. Maybe there isn't even a middle ground there. Maybe people just good spooked. Maybe they're just bad gun dogs. If there's one thing I do more than any other thing it's ponder. It's damn near scientific. I haven't cured cancer yet, but frankly I haven't even given it a whirl. I think most often I ponder actions and reactions. How many shape the world around me, and what I can do do make that happen differently. Then I ponder how much face I can save by not writing crap down in a blog that 4 people read. Back to pondering. Or as it should read, back to cutting my own throat. That's more succinct.