Dear Tactlessness

One day, I ate my words.

Surprisingly, I used to spewed out words like they were sisters with daggers. I often blurted them out and I am oblivious to the blood squirts. I don't care about the time and place. I don't care about the gasps and tears. I don't even give an 's' when they gave out dirty looks. Because, tactlessness is innate with me.

I was attacked verbally and I, in return, defended myself to death...plain hyperbole. Its roots came from my childhood days. We whispered and they snickered...so when I finally landed adolescence, I broke out of my shell. I learned that a frank and sharp tongue is making me build my walls.

I often give solicited advices, that either woke them up or made them cover their ears. Sometimes, they snapped on me.

And then one time, some time after the devastation of waters, someone told me he's taking me out of my comfort zone. And he did. And it did...

That's when I started to see what's on the other side. Day by day....changes, words of wisdom, random blahs.

I went back to the euphemisms and the inspirational cheers I learned...and that's when I knew, I ate my words.