What? We weren’t? Let’s talk about it anyway.
I don’t like to fight. I don’t like conflict, healthy or unhealthy. I can’t really differentiate between the two types, to be honest. People start to right and I feel sick to my stomach, my heart rate accelerates, and I’m pretty sure the world is going to end AND I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY—I am running for my life.
When I am pushed into a corner and forced to fight—please don’t do this to me, really… Because I have a terrible choice now. I can shut my eyes and cover my head with my hands and just let you do your thing and hope that it is over soon… or I will fight AND I WILL FUCKING DESTORY YOU. I know this. I don’t choose to not fight because I am afraid. I don’t fight because once I fight—the world will end. I wlll say and do all the things. I will win—I will survive. Youwill not. What a victory. You will not exist—your love, definitely, will not exist.
You: I see.
Jane: You don’t.
There are, apparently, other ways of dealing with conflict. Negotiation, the Third Way, Fierce Conversations, bla bla bla. I read the books. They give me tools that I can use with ease in unimportant clashes with unimportant people—sorry, with connections that, if severed, will not really cause me much grief.
I love you and I will not fight with you.
You: I see. Well, that explains a few things.
Jane: Doesn’t it?
Ender loves to fight. I hide from him in the bathroom. Cinder is like me—that is why there are so many holes in the walls in his room and two punching bags in the living room. Flora…. I am not sure. I’m worried I already broke her—that she has modelled and internalized my rather stellar conflict avoidance skills. I think, if I remember the toddler an the preschooler accurately… she loved to fight…
Anyway. I’m not sure, what if anything, I will do about this.
Do not come any closer.
I will not fight
The year started with a Monday; so does every week (Week 1: Transitions and Intentions)
Easier than you think, harder than I expected: a week in eleven stanzas (Week 2: Goodness and Selfishness)
A moody story (Week 3: Ebb and Flow)
Do it full out (Week 4: Passions and Outcomes)
The Buddha was a psychopath and other heresies (Week 5: No Cohesion)
A good week (Week 6: Execute, Regroup)
Killing it (Week 7: Exhaustion and Adrenaline)
Tired, petty, tired, unimportant (Week 8: Disappointment and Perseverance)
Professionals do it like this: [insert key scene here] (Week 9: Battle, Fatigue, Reward)
Reading Nabokov, crying, whining, regrouping (Week 10: Tears and Dreams)
Shake the Disease (Week 11: Sickness and Health… well, mostly sickness)
Cremation, not embalming, but I think I might live after all (Week 12: Angst and Gratitude)
Let’s pretend it all does have meaning (Week 13: Convalescence and Rebirth)
The cage is will, the lock is discipline (Week 14: Up and Down)
My negotiated self thinks you don’t exist–wanna make something of it? (Week 15: Priorities and Opportunity)
An introvert’s submission + radical prioritization in action, also pouting (Week 16: Ruthless and Weepy)
It’s about a radical, sustainable rhythm (Week 17: Sprinting and Napping)
It was a pickle juice waterfall but no bread was really harmed in the process (Week 18: Happy and Sad)
You probably shouldn’t call your teacher bad names, but sometimes, your mother must (Week 19: Excitement and Exhaustion)
Tell me I’m beautiful and feed me cherries (Week 20: Excitement and Exhaustion II)
A very short post about miracles, censorship, change: Week 21 (Transitions and Celebrations)
Time flies, and so does butter (Week 22: Remembering and forgetting)
I love you, I want you, I need you, I can’t find you (Week 23: Work and Rest)
You don’t understand—you can’t treat my father’s daughter this way (Week 24: Fathers and Daughters)
The summer was… SULTRY (Week 25: Gratitude and Collapse)
It’s like rest but not really (Week 26: Meandering and Reflection)
It’s the wrong question (Week 27: Success and Failure)
On not meditating but meditating anyway, and a cameo from John Keats (Week 28: Busy and Resting)
Hot, cold, self-indulgent as fuck (Week 29: Fire and Ice)
In which our heroine hides under a table (Week 30: Tears and Chocolate)
Deadlines and little lies make the world go round (Week 31: Honesty and Compassion)
That’s not the way the pope would put it, but… (Week 32: Purpose and Miracles)
And before you know it, it’s over (Week 33: Fast and Slow)
Ragazzo da Napoli zajechał Mirafiori (Week 34: Nostalgia and Belonging)
Depression is a narcissistic disease, fentanyl is dangerous, and knowledge is power, sort of (Week 35: Introspection and Awareness)
I’m not gonna tell you (Week 36: Smoke and Mirrors)
Slightly irritable and yet kinda happy (Week 37: Self-Improvement and Self-Indulgence)
It’s not procrastination, it’s process (Week 38: Back and Forth)
Pavlov’s experiments, 21st-century style (Week 39: Connectivity and Solitude)
The last thing I remember (Week 40: truth and um, not really)
All of life’s a (larval) stage (Week 41: Stagnation and Transformation)
Damn you, Robert Frost (Week 42: Angst and more Angst)
Speaking of conflict avoidance… (Week 43: Fight of Flight)
—->>>POSTCARDS FROM CUBA
nothingbythebook @ gmail.com