A lot can be learned in the consistency or inconsistency of a person; where they are, who they are, the direction they are headed, their vehicle of getting there, and whether or not they’re a hitchhiker.
Historical data wouldn’t necessarily say that I was a good driver, per se, but I’m confident in the forecasts. I’m much better as a passenger, really. Even better as a backseat driver. I’ve never hitchhiked, unless you count the one time I was doing one of those charity walk-a-thons and hijacked the tailgate of a pickup truck until a quarter-mile of the finish line, but I have picked up hitchhikers – which could be considered more dangerous. Inside our windowed instruments of transportation cohering to the road, protected from the incontinence of those afoot, we know our intentions are to drive. The unpredictability of the accidental passenger diverts our attention, but the pull of the story lures us into picking them up along the way. At least if you’re a driver like me.
I make no excuses for my dualism, and what you see is always what you get. While I may always change, I try to remain consistent with others as it’s the form of trust that speaks louder than a promise. This has brought into my life the stability to simply “be” and be loved as I am, and the consistent people surrounding me, albeit crazy in their own right, my support system
Being with an inconsistent person is like being at the Running of The Bulls; conflicted excitement of adventure, risk, and chaos, until you become the casualty. All it takes is one trip before you have a bull’s horn through your heart. If you’re mostly consistent then you’ll have people to help you when you fall, otherwise you’ll get trampled on running for your life.
Eventually, you’ll want to grab the bull by the horns and jump into the vehicle of consistency because…well…how else will you get to the hospital?