Wikipedia: “It is a common myth that earwigs crawl into the human ear and lay eggs in the brain.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtLqvEYLiRc (hot images, phew!)
Good habits, bad habits
A rather poignant and timely topic for me. Habits keep us chained or unleash us depending on their effect on our day-to-day living. I have as many good as I do bad and I’m always trying to improve on both. My worst habit I think is no follow-through, that and my ability to disconnect from what is actually going on. My brain operates very differently to most I suspect. I have this propensity to envision things in my own varied hue rather than see them in the stark reality of daylight. This has caused a lot of stress and strife in my life. You know the saying “rose coloured glasses”, well mine are more like Groove coloured glasses, my own unique and often fatally flawed perception. It’s hard to sit up and take note of this knowing that it’s something hard-wired. There is no twelve-step program for people who live in a state of delusion on some planes while being a “functioning” member of society. Hi my names Groove and … yeah, no. If I were completely broken I’d be in a padded room but like most, I skate by, coasting in neutral while dreaming of soaring.
So many of us are crippled by fear, all this time I thought I was fearless and now I’m just starting to understand that I am imprisoned by fear. Self-realization is a harsh mistress. It lays you bare and leaves you exposed, vulnerable and encompasses everything that you have been running from in the first place. You must lay yourself open to criticism, failure, ugliness and a myriad of other debilitating factors that will likely leave you writhing on the floor. But there is hope. Hope in good habits, in reworking your flaws and spinning them into attributes, making yourself better little by little so that, at the very least you feel you are building a foundation of stability, a semblance of order and this helps dispel the feelings of futility and exile that leave so many feeling isolated and misunderstood. So every day I must force myself to get up, look in the mirror and declare that “I love you, warts and all” because the cliché is oh so true, if you don’t love yourself how the fuck should anyone else?
I am a creature of habit, its sometimes disarming but I’m okay with that.