Mirriam Webster, whoever the heck she is, says that equivocal means ‘subject to two or more interpretations.’ In other words: uncertain, misleading, confusing and/or undecided.

I guess that I’m equivocal. You can perhaps tell from the way that I write. Or maybe you can’t. Whatever. The point is that this is probably the way that I am. I doubt that I was born like this, but either way, my nature (or nurture) has turned things around in such a way that this is how I am now. There’s a chance that I can change, but the odds are that I’ve painted myself up a tree by being this way. I mean, the world is primarily equivocal too, so why not fit right in?

Here’s the thing: all of the future; every single second of it, is equivocal too. Sure, a change could come at any second because there are few certainties, but even with the certain stuff, like death and taxes, the timing of them could alter at the touch of a hat. So why not find a comfy place on this boat and enjoy the ride.

Because you know what? I like living this way.

Living within an approximately scheduled world suits me down to the tips of my toenails. Like everyone, there are a few things I like to rely on, like a bed and some food, but beyond that, let the floodgates of uncertainty open and sweep me away into the future.

Will I like to regret this invitation?

Maybe (or maybe not).

Who knows!

(not i 🐸)


5 thoughts on “Equivocal

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