I want The Shoulds to be a fuckin’ kick ass band name (call me if you’d like to buy it), instead of the shit I can’t turn off in my brains. Their steady stream of bullshit blatherings, brow-beating and lies come factory direct from another person’s fear that got re-gifted to me. A shitty, scratched up, unwrapped gift no one wants, but one that I seem to have snatched up like some greedy, poverty-stricken child who’s never owned a damn thing in its life. Like a crappy, cheap hard-plastic doll with fucked up, bright yellow hair, I do nothing all the live long day but stroke and caress and rub on all The Shoulds racing through my head in any given millisecond.
“I SHOULDN’T be writing this way. This harsh. This, whatever. I can’t do what I want (need) because I SHOULD be doing something, anything other than this. I SHOULD abandon everything that provides me that sense of being in sync with myself to do this other ‘responsible’ thing.” Usually, something I absolutely loathe. Something that makes me miserable. And ALWAYS a thing that keeps me from being authentic to myself. A thing that murders my soul just because “I SHOULD”. What kind of bullshit reasoning is that?! Fuck The Shoulds. The Shoulds have been trying to kill off the essence of me ever since my time on the planet began. Well, I win, I’ve decided. So, to The Shoulds, “Go fuck yourself”.
And before anyone gets all whiny and up in my face, covering me over with their own massive piles of The Shoulds, blurting out such things as “Tsk tsk, Angry Foolish One, we MUST be responsible” and other shit like that? I KNOW. Yes. There are some tasks we do that we don’t like. But that’s not what the hell I’m talking about. I’m not talking about depositing checks with a stupid person working as a teller at your bank or matching socks at a laundromat. So, chill. I’m talking about being TRULY responsible. ACTUALLY responsible, to the person we truly are. The Shoulds are a distortion of responsibility. You, me, us, we, all of us have an actual responsibility to be authentic to ourselves and not divert our efforts in whatever venture we are meant to undertake. For example, I am a writer, intrinsically (I mean, it’s so obvious). Maybe you’re meant to be a mother. Maybe you’re meant to be a real estate broker. Maybe your passion is manufacturing paperclips. I don’t fucking know. What I do know, is fuck that shaming slime The Shoulds cover us in. Revolt!
The Shoulds never cease at making their attempts to power my ass down. The Shoulds stand on my ribs. The Shoulds grab me by the scruff of the neck and drive my face into the carpeting. They leave me confused and frustrated, splayed out on the floor (okay, reclining in a comfortable bed, but I sport “dead-face” while I lay there, so it counts as a bad thing)…doing, creating, learning, gaining absolutely nothing. Staying utterly still. Staying utterly silent. Staying utterly fucking paralyzed. And staying utterly fucking put. They root me to a spot I’ve spent far too much time in already.
So, here’s a personal proclamation, long overdue. The Shoulds are TOTAL FUCKING BULLSHIT. I do what I want. I work for the real me. Responsibility does not equate blowing The Shoulds and being wretchedly miserable and off track in doing so. Responsibility is being dedicated and working for, and no longer against, my authentic self. So, gag on that.