Historically, the vast majority of the daisies I've encountered have had an even number of petals. This situation hasn't changed. My attitude towards it, however, apparently has.

In way too many previous installments herein, I have gone into painstaking (and occasionally excruciating) detail about my love life and its various and sundry deficiencies and/or virtual nonexistence. Not that I haven't beaten dead horses before, mind you, but this one seems to have been pounded down to the molecular level, and while there was inarguably plenty of heat, there was a noticeable absence of light.

I'm not claiming that I've seen the light since then, either, but there may be something to say for placid acceptance rather than rage against the Fates. Boredom, while, um, boring, is seldom actually painful. (I can hear you already: "Don't you have enough boring topics already?") Not the point. What is the point is that being on the receiving end is properly viewed as a secondary outcome; first, there must be the effort to give. And seldom in these pages will you find any indication that said effort has ever even existed.

And that's what's at the heart of the matter: I have no right to expect anything unless I have offered something to begin with. Previously, I have had (and perhaps worse, have expressed) grave doubts as to whether I have anything to offer. Those doubts still exist to some extent, but I cannot let them dictate the terms of the exchange.

Or, in other words: I should not prejudge a daisy before I've had a chance to count the petals. As metaphors go, it's fairly cheap; as a design for living, it just might work. But the transition isn't going to be easy. I'm going to have to learn to take a more matter-of-fact approach to something that to me has always seemed to fall on the far side of abstract, far away from the things I find easily graspable. And there is absolutely no guarantee attached to the process in any way. But what's the alternative? More of the same. And I think everyone has had quite enough of that. I know I have.

The Vent

#253
16 July 2001

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