It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence.
It’s time to find my armor again. I lost my old armor. It no longer fit. It was full of holes, tattered, and mismatched. I was coming out of a unhealthy marriage of 17 years. I was running with a bad crowd and living on pain meds. I had to make a choice to take a chance and live or stay and see how dark it would get.
A friend found me and had me live in their attic. I found someone and fell in love and moved in. The cost was my armor. The armor covers open wounds. Cuts that would not heal, that oozed icker that had a truly foul smell. Scars and marks from where I had out grown the armor.
It’s now time to find my new armor. To enter the war that is life you need an armor. Some can get through it with a jerkin and a light vest. Some need gothic plate armor that is more a show of opulence and protection. Protects them from life. So these people feel nothing and say it’s a deities will, or fate.
Karma is a fickle Mistress she does not forgive or forget. I have paid for my crimes against Her. Others are having her move in and settle down for a while.
None of this is for me to bare and or take upon my self. I need some type of armor. My choice of armor is leather and chain. This is lightweight but still offers protection. We all need protection from the acid, slings, arrows and blows that life will deliver.
A fool thinks they need no armor. We all need some type of protection. There is one that will forever be able to fine the weak spots in the armor. I know theirs. I can not be slowed by the passing glances that life throws my way. The forget to reply. The missed phone calls. Life is not for the weak and no one gets out alive. All truth is relative pick one that works. It all boils down to the same thing. To live is to fight. To fight does not always mean to hit someone. It means get up in the morning 15 minutes early if you have to, To finish up making lunch. To finish that load of dishes. When you cant fight, your armor will protect you for the time you need.
Life is a contact sport. I tried to hide in a hole. It still found me. If you decide not to partake, you still are. You just let it making the choices not you. So yes it’s time for me to once more go into the breach. Yes life will kill me it does it to every one but its better to go down swinging than to die scared under the bed.
The road we walk has Demon’s under them. Mine have waited along time for me to come out and walk the road. Who am I to deny them. Or myself of the fight. So yes its time for me to find new armor. Not to live on Caffeine, Animosity, and Anger. But to use what I have learned and start again. Its not the destination its the journey. The sights along the way. This is what you regale your friends with at home or the bar. Life is meant to be experienced not hidden from.