Crouching Tiger, Hidden Emo

Just a heads-up: This post is meant to be self-reflective, and I'll prolly violate the loose "no emo" rule that I've touted, so if you feel the need to go out and buy 2 dozen Krispy Kreme donuts, RESIST! If you find some sort of wisdom or comfort or amusement in this little exercise, so be it, but that ain't my goal. If you have no idea what the hell I'm talking about, wait patiently for the next post, please.

My constant reliance upon internal dialogue makes me wonder if I'm schizophrenic.

I'm definitely a liquid person. I avoid conflict, ignore my needs in favor of satisfying the needs of others, adapt, move, change. Does it hurt a rain puddle when an obnoxious kid jumps into it? Maybe it loses a little bit of its essence, but after a minute, it returns to its original state. Water makes an effective mirror, too. I tend to reflect people back at themselves. But one must look past the surface of the brook to see the crawdads and tadpoles and minnows and other fascinating things beneath.

Yet water stops bullets. You can't throw punches underwater. Water infiltrates into tiny spaces and won't leave. It combines so well with other things, like coffee grounds, pancake batter, reacts with sugars and sunlight and other compounds to form the tastiest strawberries. There's no life without water; water eventually breaks down all barriers and changes even the toughest metals into different things.

And on a side note, with pun intended...

If you want a bestselling single, you can only sing the chorus so many times before you need an interlude. The chorus might evolve while out of hearing - it might get more intense, change in key, become calmer or more frenetic, bitter or sweet. But you'll sing it again, before the end.