sʃʃıɥ ǝɥʇ ɹoɟ pǝpɐǝɥ

I’m a tough guy. I may not appear to be, but I’m tough as nails. I’m not like most guys. Most guys got the whole killer exterior, ganster/punker thing going on. Some sweet tattoos, or gold teeth or whatever. Classic external tough, right? The classic overcompensation for an inferiotiry complex. Tough guy outside, woobie-boobie softie on the inside. And if you ask about it, or want to talk about the world of inner vision or emotion in order to clarify an issue, or solve a problem them’s fighting words. We don’t go there.

That ain’t me. I’m a different kind of tough guy. Outside I have an expressive face, a way with words, and an energy that arrives before I do. I was always the guy the cops noticed, and the bullies and the teachers, and everyone else. As a kid I tried to stomp the external radiation into submission, but nothing really worked. I can play it cool for a while, but not for long.

As the result I have been amazed at what I’m made of. When the gun comes out, my instinct is to snatch it out of the idiot’s hands and say “Gimmie that you cry-baby!” And when the cops show up, I walk right up to them and ask what’s up. I’m not scared of anything. I can reason my way out of a hassle, never really feel like I’m in any danger, and can steer my way out of an accident before the steel hits.

None of that makes me tough. It’s a matter in reaction and instinct. No, tough is something else. Tough is endurance, durability, raw force, and strength. So when the sky falls down on my head, I can take it. “C’mon!” I shout at the sky “Is that all you got?”

Things have been hard for a long time. I get up to my feet, and the universe seems to shove me back down without a second thought. It’s discouraging. I admit it. It’s frustrating, I admit that too. I need communication, encouragement, feedback, and pay for my work. None of that seems to be coming right now. It’s tough-times, but I’m covered. I got it. I’m cool.

I said I’d do anything, and I meant it. I said I’d wait forever and I meant that too. I even said that the outcome didn’t matter, though I’m not convinced that’s entirely true, but how tough do you want me to be? How much more of this do you need me to endure? It’s ok if there’s a whole lot more… I’m not sure I’d mind so much. My heart is ablaze, and I never grow weary. Not of you. Never. So bring it…

God is merciful. Tara blesses my every step. Ganesh is the vanguard of my soul, the warrior at my gates. We’re ready. It’s gonna be all right.