When someone says they don’t take any shit, something inside me dies. It gives up. It gives in. It will not take any more shit and ends it all. I don’t know why. I am undecided, shrugging my shoulders. I am, in some way, taking my own shit from myself.
The taking of shit surely involves, after the taking, the weighing up. At the point of use, as it were, the stuff is perhaps shit and perhaps not, accepted and rejected accordingly after some kind of due process. Maybe some evidence even comes into it. Personally, I’ve accepted a lot of shit in my time, but mostly out of cowardice or ill advised apathy.
Oh, and when. people say “I don’t suffer fools gladly” I nod and think, if only I could be like that, not suffering fools, not taking any shit from anyone, provided I could tell shit from shinola, as they say. Or there’s that other great battle cry:
“She knows her own mind”.
People sit in absolute silence and meditation for years to know their own mind. Using their mind. Which is one way of not taking any shit anymore. It removes the source of said shit and, with that, the distraction, and, unfortunately the interaction. Who’s to say, though, whether one little button-pushing comment couldn’t send even the erstwhile robes wearer right over the edge, to that point where the brain becomes a stranger. You look at the mind and it says, wait, who’s driving, me or you?
A human is a mass of assumptions, knowledge, prejudice, nature and nurture, fears of the past and fears for the future. Defences draw on whichever fires fastest and quickest, and the speeds are getting faster and faster. Photographs now give us the full picture, and speeches are reduced to stumpy sentences.
Perhaps a lot of people that don’t take any shit just don’t send incoming messages through the proper channels. They are over confident, complacent, impressive. They lack caution in the way they run their own head, and are role models for the uncertain, the doubters.
Seize the moment.
Yeah, but don’t take any shit. From anyone. Oh, and don’t give any out either. Like those blogs you write. When are you going to write something about music? It was supposed to be about things you know about.
Brother Face 