It’s wonderful for me to find a writer like Anne Lamott. She writes of life as it really can get sometimes – life in all its nauseating details. Her writing makes me feel it’s okay to be human after all.
I don’t think that I am a negative person. Every day I try to find something positive and send my thanks to the universe. But to tell the truth, I feel my demons at times. They get the best of me on certain days and I have to let them out. Is that so bad?
Life is real and so are demons. Is it not better to acknowledge and accept that? At least I would not be denying the realities of my feelings. I would not denying myself. If I cannot accept and value myself, how can I expect anyone else to respect me?
I cannot espouse, mumble jumble false platitudes. It is just not me. It would be a waste of my precious energy. And so, I rave and rant, complaining, bitching about this and that – about Tom, Dick, and Betty. I know the uselessness of it all. Often, it is upon myself that the blame falls on. Who can blame the people – as they watch and listen to this mad woman throwing forth her angry words?
Certainly not me! I hear myself. I see myself. It’s not a pretty picture at all. At least I am honest. I have no cover ups. What you see is what you get.