Today a wise and wonderful person told me that I have been beating myself up. Over not writing a lot, over not knowing if it’s all worth it, over what I’m really doing it for anyway. So taking his words into account I wrote this pretty bizarre, but very enjoyable piece (at least for me when writing it!) I hope it at least gets a chuckle somewhere in cyberspace!
Why beat yourself up when others can do it for you?
To hit on, whack or thwack with something. Insert your weapon of choice here…. Mine is my mind.
An egg can be beaten to an inch of its life to make a tasty treat.
Cops do it while walking. At least in the bad movies/soaps/series. At least in America.
It rhymes with wheat and seat and also bleat. All of which can be seen outdoors. Or indoors if you have a preference for sheep and sitting down and well… cornflakes.
Music has it in it. Fast and slow it just exists. It pre-dates us. They probably listened to music while the Bing Bang happened. Only we don’t know the track.
It can happen to a pair of wings. A fly, butterfly or bee caught in flight or maybe just needing to get some raindrops of its wings.
Usually pertaining to you as an individual.
It is the choices you make. The life you lead. The person you grow up to be.
Self can also make longer words. Such as selfish, self-made, selfless. Self is what you make. Self is who society wants you to become. Self is often beyond your control.
You is all ego. It’s full of all the things you want, and funnily enough usually selfish.
Up is a great movie from Pixar.
It’s also where you find birds, discarded balloons and kites that have been let go.
It’s where people think heaven is.
It’s a state of mind where euphoria rules, drug induced or otherwise. It’s both great and guilty at the same time.
There aren’t many words with it in. All I can think of is pup, cup and sup. And they are all pretty rubbish.