Expecting Company?

So, somebody may be on their way to kill me. Maybe multiple somebodies. Who could blame them? I’m an asshole, as I’ve said previously. I have no right to be so insulting to people. If I had a Patreon, they’d have kicked me off long ago for the things I say sometimes. They’ve been policing language online lately.

The big one, not that any of them are small, called me and in low, serious tones said that if I ever did “XYZ” he’d kill me. I told him to come now. Why wait? He was defending the other one, who I couldn’t call little, who is grown and can certainly defend himself. This one had already issued a threat of his own, including the word “f******” in a belligerent text-rant. He literally censored a curse word in a threat.  So as not to offend anyone prior to their injury or death by his hand, I suppose.

The whole thing was a big misunderstanding, and no I’m not giving specific details this time. Suffice it to say I gave my two cents on something that is none of my business and told somebody what he did wasn’t cool. There I go again. I was reacting to something I thought had occurred. It may have been fake news.

It’s been a tough year for me, but I had an epiphany on Thanksgiving as you may have read in my previous post. Everything that occurs in my life, the blame and the glory, is attributable to my actions. Despite being sad or lonely or angry, I need to be kinder to people or stay out of their lives. Neither of those principals is easy, nor is having people angry at me.

Looking at my dwindling number of Facebook friends, one might think it’s easy to cease contact, and I certainly do that. But in the long run, the hardest part of cutting people out, the kids call it ghosting, I think… the hardest part of that is nobody misses me when I’m gone. It starts off with, “I’ll show them,” and then they show me, by having no regret that our relationship is over. 

If somebody is legitimately out for me, I’m done for. I’m just not much of a physical threat. I probably haven’t thrown a punch in 40 years, And I’m not about to start training, Rocky Balboa style, to be ready for a fight. If there’s a course on not making people hate me, I’ll sign up. I have free time. Short of that, I’ll just live in an ever shrinking world so as to avoid conflict.

And right here is the part where I might add some sort of cryptic insult. A heat-seeking missile straight to the vulnerable spot that only the target can detect. Those who know me have come to expect it. But it’s late. Maybe I’ll just skip it for now. It’s almost 2019. I’d like to finish out a very tough year on a happy note.

That’ll show ‘em.