I am a barbarian
Always on my toes
Always with my left fist clenched
Creating ‘what if’ scenarios
Whilst my right hand is open palmed
Ready to shake hands with foes
The choice is yours
I won’t make the first move
Be careful, you’ve been warned
The fact is I question myself and my behaviour a lot. My wife thinks I am cute and adorable, only my mother shares the same sentiment. But they both say that to the outside world I am damn intimidating.
Am I grotesque? Hardly. Am I vulgar? Unless you’ve harmed me physically or any of my family or friends, you’ll never know what’s going to hit you. I have extremes that are so far fetched of so far fetched.
So what is it that makes me intimidating? My children plant kisses on me until I have to peel them off, they don’t seem phased.
For one, I am relentless. I will push the extremes of everything on to myself. I will flog the horse of my ego until it bleeds it’s last drop dry, then I’ll throw it aside like it never helped me at all and proceed to ride my next horse ego until it dies. I’ll always find a horse.
Maybe it’s too much to contain and people flee from it at it’s first signs of exposure, in a conversation where you’re trying to belittle someone, trying to judge someone, trying to stereotype someone or trying to lie. I’m a hound and will sniff your lie out before the mist spray of your breath exhales the consonants.
Maybe it seeps out when you feel a little of my physicality as I wrestle your ego down swiftly with what I assume is a normal gaze but my wife thinks is a death stare?
Maybe it leaks when I feel the presence of evil in a room and I am the first to stand behind it ready to slit it’s throat to protect everyone around me.
I fucking hate this feeling but I cannot get rid of it. I don’t want to scare people. I don’t want to turn them away but paradoxically I don’t want them near me either. I am ok and confident in my solitude, I just don’t want others to feel intimidated in my presence.
My teacher once told me to quit fighting because you tend to walk around with your hands up. I should have listened to him. But it’s a part of me. I have never hurt a soul that didn’t deserve it, I can’t put my guard down for now. Maybe my arms will grow weary and my mind will be too punch drunk to be so paranoid but for now, I’ve got the wrong set of shoulders to bump into in the street but I do have the right set of hands to fix that, one’s a closed fist and the other is an open palm, you choose as I won’t make the first move.