I never said I'd take this lying down...
but I've crawled home from worse than this
i've been thinking about it alot lately. not sure why. maybe it's the chemical burns on my hands from either brazilian pepper or rubber trees. maybe it is the current situation with the tenant in new mexico (which may warrant its own post in the future, depending on how things turn out).
my hands are laced with scars. little white lines that criss cross, meet up, split apart, pool, puddle, weave and bob across the surface of my skin. i like building with my hands. i think of my body as another tool. doing many of the jobs i have, getting beat up is inevitable.
my soul is no better. i have been dealt some blows. i've been on the ropes. the stars have been dancing in front of my eyes. the black has been creeping in from the edges of my vision and i thought i was going to be down for the count.
but i am too hard-headed, or stupid, or just-not-sure-what, to actually go down. and if i am going down, by christ i am gonna make sure the other guy is going home with some scars of his own.
i don't really like to think of myself as a survivor (i tend to add that moniker to people who have actually survived something!) but truth be told, i am. when i sit back and allow myself to look at it abjectly, i am a survivor. we all are, in our own ways.
i am also a fighter. despite the boxing analogy, i've not been a big fighter in the physical sense, but i have hit back with whatever was afforded me in a more metaphysical sense.
so the other day when i was mowing and thinking and listening to my ipod, and i heard the lines that i have used as the title and tagline of this post, i thought: that is me.
i won't take this lying down. i may be destined to fail, but i am too dumb to realize it. i may be going down, but i am going down swinging. and i have been hit harder than you can ever dream of, and i still stood proud, bleeding maybe, scarred, battered, but by fuck, proud all the same. and i will make sure a few of your guys aren't going to be there to pick up the trophy.
so i am standing across from you. i am cut. i am swollen. i am dazed and unsteady. but i am raising my gloves. i am smirking my smirk. i am waving you to bring it on. i'm still not done with you yet.
thanks for playing along, o my beloved, patient, tough non-existant readers. this one goes out to each and every one of you, who are real survivors, and real fighters. thanks.
darth sardonic
i've been thinking about it alot lately. not sure why. maybe it's the chemical burns on my hands from either brazilian pepper or rubber trees. maybe it is the current situation with the tenant in new mexico (which may warrant its own post in the future, depending on how things turn out).
my hands are laced with scars. little white lines that criss cross, meet up, split apart, pool, puddle, weave and bob across the surface of my skin. i like building with my hands. i think of my body as another tool. doing many of the jobs i have, getting beat up is inevitable.
my soul is no better. i have been dealt some blows. i've been on the ropes. the stars have been dancing in front of my eyes. the black has been creeping in from the edges of my vision and i thought i was going to be down for the count.
but i am too hard-headed, or stupid, or just-not-sure-what, to actually go down. and if i am going down, by christ i am gonna make sure the other guy is going home with some scars of his own.
i don't really like to think of myself as a survivor (i tend to add that moniker to people who have actually survived something!) but truth be told, i am. when i sit back and allow myself to look at it abjectly, i am a survivor. we all are, in our own ways.
i am also a fighter. despite the boxing analogy, i've not been a big fighter in the physical sense, but i have hit back with whatever was afforded me in a more metaphysical sense.
so the other day when i was mowing and thinking and listening to my ipod, and i heard the lines that i have used as the title and tagline of this post, i thought: that is me.
i won't take this lying down. i may be destined to fail, but i am too dumb to realize it. i may be going down, but i am going down swinging. and i have been hit harder than you can ever dream of, and i still stood proud, bleeding maybe, scarred, battered, but by fuck, proud all the same. and i will make sure a few of your guys aren't going to be there to pick up the trophy.
so i am standing across from you. i am cut. i am swollen. i am dazed and unsteady. but i am raising my gloves. i am smirking my smirk. i am waving you to bring it on. i'm still not done with you yet.
thanks for playing along, o my beloved, patient, tough non-existant readers. this one goes out to each and every one of you, who are real survivors, and real fighters. thanks.
darth sardonic
Labels: fuck you i will not go quietly into the night, survivors and fighters, taking back sunday
9 Comments:
I heard a song yesterday that said, What doesn't kill me makes me stronger.
Sometimes the fight gets tiresome doesn't it?
Keep on.
z-it does sometimes, but so far i have never been ko'ed, so i guess i will stick with it.
Keep going, you've got a manuscript to finish
and i have been working at it dj. hope to get quite a bit done this week.
Oh, you seem to have put my own thoughts into better words than I have. I talked about this topic with Greg the other day. I don't understand laying down and giving up. The price is too great to not fight, for me. I fight every day. Ranger tends to roll over and play dead. It bugs me.
Hang in there, Darth. Keep swinging! I'm in your corner, too!
:o) BJ
If you give in you may as well be dead.... and that so isn't an option!
i've changed my name, no longer bollingerbyrd now to be found at byrdonfire.blogspot.com/ for those rare ocassions when you pop by!
xx
blogget-yeah, though being a bucket of contradictions, i do play dead some for a bit. usually so i can suckerpunch even better, lol.
byrd-ah my dear, settle on a name and site please, lol. thanks for visiting, and i really try to visit regular, but life seems to get in the way...
I do have to admit that my initial reaction to a crisis is utter panic and a little while of looking to the sky and saying, "Really??" But that passes and the fight in me surfaces. Like that suckerpunch you mentioned...
;o) BJ
lol blogget-for me, completely depends on the situation. but i always know i am gonna come out on top in the end. somehow or other i just know.
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