“Why?” is usually the wrong question.

Now bear with me on this one.

My Partner in Crime, her daughters, her granddaughter, my mom, all my adopted lil sisters, and most of my friends often end up asking me “Why?” This is usually after I’ve done something that’s somewhat off the wall, like start dating a boy, or taking up airsofting, or masturbated using paprika and olive oil as lubricant. (No, I’m joking about the last one, that would just be perverted, and a complete waste of good paprika.)

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Why do you live like that?”

“Why do you want to keep your vagina non-adjacent oversized clit?”

And of course;

“Why paprika?”

The thing is people almost always ask me “Why?” when if they simple added one word to that question they would not only have their answer, but the reason I’m usually the happiest, cheeriest, bounciest goth-girl you could ever meet. That word? Oh it’s really very simple. You see the question, the ultimate question, that also happens to be my ultimate answer, and which leads to a happy unbearably fluttery Amanda is “Why not?”

A few years ago I discovered that the question/answer “Why not?” was my personal route to happiness.

“Date an amazing, gorgeous, delicious, dominant woman 22 years older than me…..feck it, why not?!” 8 years later we’re still together, and going strong.

“Write a short story…feck it’s decided to become a novel, a bugger it, why not?!” Three years later I had finished my first novel. And after two years of decompressing, and figuring out what precisely I had learned from that experience, I’m half way through my second, with a third being laid out as well.

“Let that bastard who just grabbed my MP3 player go, or grab his hood, slam him to the ground, give him a slapping,  and take it back…Fuck Him! Why not!?” One fight bite, some applause from onlookers, and my MP3 player is still mine.

“Why not?” is liberating, empowering, fun.

“Why not?” leads to adventures.

“Why not?” helps me to leave my doubts, and fears far behind.

However “Why not?” also forces me to think of the repurcussions of my actions. Weight them against the potential outcome, and help me to make a decision whether it’s worthwhile.

I never ask “Why?” anymore. When I read about some atrocity in any land, near or far, I don’t ask “Why?”, I ask “Why not?” Put myself in the shoes of those responsible, and often enough I suddenly, distressingly, understand.

But mostly “Why not?” just makes me happy. Like right now I’m staring at a picture of a pair of Demonia Rangers, they’re delicious, and gothy, and sexy, and I could kick my way through a battle-tank in them. Wanna guess what question I’m thinking?

 

 

 

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2 Comments to ““Why?” is usually the wrong question.”

  1. *WILD APPLAUSE* !!!!!!!!! 🙂
    (After all, why not?!)

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