Never Ending Story, part Nth degree

For as long as I can recall there has been some kind of inner conflict going on. Most of the time I can't define it. Sometimes it is a battle between what makes sense to me and what keeps me from upsetting police. I almost almost subjugate my better judgement to the inferior course of action dictated by the people with the guns.

In retrospect I have often tossed better judgement aside in favor of the inferior course which seemed the majority way, the mainstream, normal thing. Half the time it wasn't at all the normal mainstream thing. Maybe it was just some sophisticated pretense that those wired for civilization as we know it understood. I have some little glitches which evidently are not so obvious, but which have thrown me way off course on a regular basis.

I can see the value in realizing the reality that life is not a practice round so regrets don't do much good. It still seems cruel that smoking doesn't win friends and build muscles, but that is how the game is laid out. Much of what I regret may have been a blessing. It is highly possible that I was never really capable of raising the seven children I wanted, and I probably would not have done well had I remained in various jobs, even though outwardly it appeared that I had promise and potential. You can be competent in some way but lack essential ingredients that would allow you to profit like you would were you not a few apples shy of a bushel, so to speak. It isn't a crime, just how it is. It has taken a long time to see that.

Every now and then the realization of limits, and more, the realization of times when I tried to ignore those limits, causes a little angst of one sort or another. That is the stuff that makes me want to hide away.

And that leads to a type of inner conflict. Accepting one's reality without accepting the wrong type of limitation. Opportunities are far more abundant than I know, almost by definition; I have no idea what all the possible inventions endeavors and schemes possible to a ballistic tourer are, so setting a mental limit is not even logical.

Yet, I do know I have limits on a certain aspect of understanding and reading people which either leads me to trust the untrustworthy or to see rejection when it is not there. That is somewhat more extreme than average. On the other hand I can spot it when someone else is up to no good in matters between others, in which I have no vested interest. I think some of that is normal.

What is not normal are the extremes which have characterized some episodes of my life dealing with such matters. Not a reason for regret because it does not good, and it wastes time and energy as the woe erodes attitude, diminishing the likelihood of recognizing good opportunities. Such regret and sadness over what should have been another way serves only to destroy the contentment of the moment. That is not to say conscience is no good. I'm not talking conscience.

I don't know what I'm talking. But here's a secret teak trick; after all is done and you coated it with teak oil, come back and rub a final coat in with #400 wet or dry sandpaper. It is the way to make things dazzle and be smooth as [name withheld]'s bottom.