I am no stronger than you.
I am no braver than you.
I am no more inspirational than you.
I am not those things. I am only what you see in me.
I am scared. every minute. of every day. day in. and day out.
If you wake up with your house on fire, your bedroom engulfed in flames. Do you just lay there on your bed and say "Ah well. I gave it a good run. Might as well just lay here and kiss it all good by."
You get the hell out of there. You run, scramble, lunge, bolt for the door. You gasp for air, you do anything you can to cool your singed skin. You get out. You lick your wounds. You look back and think "Good God, I got myself out of THAT?!?"
So why is what I did, or what I went through any different?
You know what's different? Jealousy. Jealousy takes on a whole new meaning. Everyone is jealous. It's in human nature. Envious, Jealous, whichever you want to refer to it as, in some form or another, everyone, in some stage, has it.
If I had a dime for every time in the past I wished something about me, or my life was different/better/bigger/nicer/ I'd probably not be in so much debt right now.
But that was before.
NOW? Now there's jealousy and envy. But it's much more broad. Now, if I had a dime for every time I wished I was just fucking normal...just plain as plain can be....just blend into the background nondescript average jane? Gggooooooooooddddamn I'd be a ga-fuckin-zillionaire.
I hate to sound rude. But you just don't know.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
you guys have no idea.
I am coming down from a high.
I spent a whirlwind weekend tucked away in the mountains.
and fell in love with 18 people and one dog whom I'd never met previously.
We came from all over the country.
Backgrounds as different as can be.
Spanning the spectrum in age, and demographic, but all with one uniting theme.
These people (even the dog) were all touched in some way by the bastardspawn that is colon cancer.
but that almost became 'besides the point'.
They were some of the rockin-est, life loving-est, sick twisted sense of humor-est, bread bakin-est group of folk I've had the pleasure to call myself a part of.
And after the weekend was all said and done, we'd laughed together, built butt pyramids together, jumped off docks into gorgeous icy lakes together, sang together, stripped down and twirled ourselves in nothing but blue satin fabric together, branded ourselves together, learned new uses for tubesocks and strawberry shortcakes together, made mudslides, truffles, and focaccia together, and finally created a breathtaking 12 pages of iconic photographic goodness together.
I would go into detail about how each and every person i met that weekend will be with me forever, but it would just not do it justice. I would elaborate on why that weekend provided a sense of meaning and validity to the past year and a half of my life, but you wouldn't get a true understanding. I would hypothesize, metaphor-ize, personify-ze, analyze, and/or philosophize (typos intended to allow for greater literary impact ;) how this weekend with strangers who are now family, was one of the best things I've done with myself. but it just wouldn't even break the surface.
Now the glow is fading. The tattoo has scabbed over and healed. My impromptu bang trim has grown out a bit. The high is wearing off, but the memories are filed nicely away for easy access on those "I really need a smile" days.
Thanks Colondar. as I've said before. You rawk my world.