Prickly people are everywhere, at least, these days, their porcupine spines are more prevalent. An occasional removal of one driven deep into my side catches my annoyed attention, and, sometimes, those spines hurt. Momentarily, I might consider the thrower, but all too quickly fall back into my own concerns.
Lacking appropriate inhibitions, and willingly embracing perceived shared space as actual shared space probably gets me into trouble. As careful as I try to be of others’ emotions, intellect, and personal space, I always seem to behave more like a cow than a dove, chomping on my cud, oblivious to the actual hurt I might have caused.
Tending to blithely go where angels fear to tread is my M.O. As striking as that has made my life, it has me wondering if, somehow, I possibly missed some vital clues in how to get along in this world. When the evident signs jump out in front of me, and I finally twig that, perhaps, I went too far, the wrong way or made a bad turn, that’s the moment of realization. As I exhale deeply, I bemoan about the outlandish place I find myself once again–one day roaming freely, the next blocked from the very same path.
My brain thinks, “Ah. There’s always a way around, through, over, or under any barrier placed before you. They forget you are clever, and simply want to roam without intentions to harm. Remember, that’s what makes you foreign and unlike them. They do want to harm.”
I wonder if this is how it is? The sign was never meant for me. The sign was put there to warn me about them.