lipstick wars

there’s a gray area where it’s not clear if i’m being included for psychological reasons (stroking) or for the more innocuous reason of being seen as someone who should be included. it almost doesn’t matter because in both cases i don’t want to be included, not really. the only reason it does matter is that i’m confused about other people’s intentions. don’t think people always mean the words they say but know that sometimes they do.

a mentor made me pull away the self-imposed wool over my eyes to explain i was too optimistic, so optimistic in fact that he said i was a wishful thinker. there’s lots of reasons that was hard for me to swallow, mainly because part of me knows i haven’t unalived (almost hate that word but it fits) myself because of the will to keep going that those thoughts provide. maybe i’m mixing things up. maybe he just means work cause lord knows i’d easily claim that rome could have been built in under a day. with enough wishful thinking and enough hands to execute on that thinking i truly don’t see how it couldn’t have been possible. then again, i’ve in the past failed to consider that concrete should dry before being walked on, hence my footprints remain in places that perhaps i should have feared to tread. then again, what’s the point of doing anything if you’re not leaving footprints behind. maybe that’s the posterity people talk about.

these two trains go together. not sure how just sure they do.

hollywood walk of fame comes to mind. not because i’m famous or would ever want to be but because those people put their hands and feet in wet concrete knowing darn well why. there’s gotta be some wishful thinking involved. some sort of optimism that leads them to believe (or hope) they matter not just to themselves but to others. feels like a reach. dunno.

let’s be real. inclusion means eventual exclusion doesn’t it? don’t think i’m wrong. open to the idea i could be. think my mentor’s wrong. there’s a healthy dose of pessimism on the other side of that wishful thinking. i could be the goddess of mistakes and perfection and because they cancel each other out i’d end up being the goddess of nothing. he’s young and doesn’t know there’s nothing to prove. my thinking will continue to change over time but not my makeup and if lipstick were optimism then to him i’ll always look like a whore.

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