Thursday, November 27, 2008

Epidemic.

What is the deal with the mass text? I don't get it. Why do people do that? You know who you are. You know you do it.
I don't mean a mass text because something huge just happened in your life and you want to share it with a broad spectrum of people. No. Not that. I mean, the mass text that happens on holidays. "Happy Thanksgiving!" "Merry Christmas!" "Happy New Years!" Give me strength.
There's nothing wrong with wanting to wish all of those ideas on people. Nothing wrong with that at all. The problem lies within the idea of the mass text. There's nothing personal about it. The whole purpose of texting was so that we could send quick messages to a specific person and not have to deal with calling. That's what it's about. Now, we have abused that privilege to the point that it has become the epidemic of the mass text.
Look. I don't doubt that you feel that way and want to share joy. I don't even doubt that you want to spread joy to that many people. But I do doubt that when we haven't talked in months, you really want to wish me joy. I'm sorry. I am so low on your scale right now. I don't take offense to it, it's just the way it is. Sorry.
So you think twice before adding me to the list on your mass text just to wish some joy upon me. I like your joy a fine amount, I just demand personalized joy on the holidays.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Tracy.

Have you ever just started crying? I know you have. I don't really mean bursting into tears either. I mean the gradual kind of tears when your eyelids just don't seem to function and the tears seep out of the sides. No heavy breathing, no machine gun bursts of sobs, just a quiet cry where the water seeps out and you realize you're crying.
Its a down day sorta, a down morning at least and I don't have all my classes because they were smart and aren't having them before the Thanksgiving holiday. I'm just sitting in my normal place on campus and I realized that the faucets in my eyes were on. I don't know who turned them on, but someone did.
Guys aren't supposed to cry. I mean, its not as bad as it used to be, but guys are still not really supposed to cry. Weakness. Well, I don't have a problem with the weakness. I try to have a strong exterior and an even stronger interior, but when it comes to crying, I don't care. Its freeing. Just to crack and let it all out? Its freeing.
I've cracked a lot lately, and that doesn't really mean I've cried a lot, it just means I've cracked a lot. It kinda feels like what was inside has all seeped out.
I'm cracking again. As I write this. But its kinda fun. When we were young lads and lasses, we were told to break out of the mold and change the world. Maybe the cracking is just a slow break? Then after that, I'll eat some breakfast then (ding) change the world.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Freshman.

Stop staring at me.
I'm not kidding.
I'm sitting in class right now and there is this girl who is staring at me from across the room. Stop it.
Why are you doing that? Pay attention dumb little freshman girl. Not that all freshmen girls are dumb, or freshmen in general shouldn't be categorized as dumb. But when they obtain a staring complex, they cross the line from insignificant to irritating.
Other than that girl, life is pretty good right now. There is a new Beyonce album in my life and I want to open mouth kiss her because I love it so much. I have a great Six and I love them, though some of them are fat heads. And I'm only a week away from watching all ten Thanksgiving episodes of FRIENDS.
If she would just stop staring, life would be really good.

Friday, November 14, 2008

I needed you

I've always kinda prided myself in how strong I am. Not physically strong, but the inner strength you see on posters and after school specials. I've never really been one to buckle under the pressure and fall apart in public. In private, people can fall apart all they want, but in public, I've always been strong.
And I've always kinda thought this about myself but I've been verbally told this by more than one person as of late, and it freaked me out. Like, in the way that animals dressed as humans freaks out Monica. In the way that Michael Flattley Lord of the Dance scares the bejeesus out of Chandler. In the way that Carrie is freaked out by the mouse in Aiden's cabin. It freaked me out.
Why?
Because I'm not that person. Not right now at least. I'm just moving along, trying to figure things out and I have reached a place where I have to go at it alone.
We say that don't we? "I have to do this alone." But we don't mean it. We don't mean it at all. We say that so that the other person will say, "No. I'm here for you. I won't let you go through this alone." And we all know that, yet we don't engage in the follow-through.
If sitcoms have taught us nothing, we know that when we say we don't need help, we really do. Watch any episode of the Golden Girls. One has a problem and they leave the room, usually pushing through the swinging kitchen door. What happens? The other two follow her to help her, even when she says she doesn't want their help. Then Sofia makes a wise crack and boom, we picture a happy ending.
But that ending would never happen if we didn't go ahead and help the person who says they don't need it.
If one of my gang is going through it, I'll drop what I'm doing to help. Everyone likes helping the gang. And I've never turned down the opportunity to do so. Need to cry in the middle of the night on my couch? Fine just don't make fun of my bed head. I guess the point is, I've always been strong. And right now, I don't feel that way. I've got things to figure out and I need to go at it alone, but we all know what that really means.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

I love my lips.

I have pen on my lip.
Well, I mean, I don't right now. But I did.
I walked into the bathroom to wash my face, and little did I know, I needed it. I had pen on my lip.
How many people have I seen with pen on my lip, none of which bothered to let me in on the fact that it looked like a smurf had soiled my skin? How frustrating is that?!
I haven't used a pen all night long. I haven't. I have been on my laptop all night long. So it's been there, on my lip, just breeding and bleeding and growing bigger for I don't know how long.
The greater question here isn't why people didn't tell me. It's who are these people?! Why do I keep them around?
Which brings me to my point. Why have friends if they won't tell you if you have pen on their lip? What's the purpose? I mean, everything else is null and void if your friends won't tell you that you have pen on your lip. Friends are supposed to be there for you when you need them the most. Is there ever a greater moment than when you have pen on your lip? I think not.

I've been having issues recently. You know, the type of 'work through them myself,' 'I don't need any help,' 'I'd rather not talk about it," kind of issues. But the truth is, all I want to do is talk about it. It's all I want to do all day long because then it's not trapped inside my head.
So it's fair to say that my first thought when I saw the pen on my lip was Shakespearean. I wanted to start shouting "Out damn spot! Out I say!" Thankfully, I didn't. I mean, I wiped it off and then resorted to the complex that I am having now. But still, it's a sad moment.
Not nearly as sad as the moment when you realize that your friends won't tell you that you have pen on your lip. That's heartbreaking.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

I wish the "you" would read this.

I've stood my ground for you.
I've been strong for you.
I've pushed aside my personal happiness and adopted yours as my own.
I've fought. Harder than I have ever fought anything before. I've worked harder than I have ever worked before. I've tried harder than I have ever tried before.
And I have been successful. I have been bigger. I have been a conqueror. I have seen the top of the mountain and the view was incredible. But I have seen the river in the valley and I want to dive in. I want to be allowed to get in the water. Other people are allowed to. Why am I denied that? I don't want to stay in the water. I just want to jump in, get wet, and get out again.
Now, I'm ready to give way. I'm ready.
I'm ready to collapse. For my hinges to snap and my support beams to sever. I'm ready to collapse and to exist, broken, for just a few minutes. If only a few minutes of not trying to be strong, for me, for you, or for anyone else.
But the net won't break. The net won't snap. The net won't split open wide enough for me to fit through. But I think about cutting the ropes. I think about it but I'm too scared to actually do it. So I don't. I take safety in my safety net. I watch television in the net. I act like a kid in the net. I act like an adult in the net. (Don't confuse the net with the Sandra Bullock movie...not the same net)
So I'm stuck. Waiting to break. To collapse. Entirely unravel. And I will wait.
I'm ready.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Ask the lions.

What do you do when you can't be yourself? By that I mean, when you are not allowed to be yourself, who do you choose to be?
There are situations in our lives when we aren't allowed to be ourselves. I came upon one such situation this past weekend. It doesn't matter who I was with, what matters is that my sense of humor fell on deaf ears, and it was awful. I mean, now I know what it feels like to be a comedian and bomb terribly. It's awful.
But there are other times when you can't be yourself. Maybe when you first meet someone or a group of someones that you don't know anything about. You know how it goes. A friend says to come over and meet these people because they are "so great and you will love them." You get over there and you meet all of these fresh people who already have this connection together and you are the outsider and you have to make a decision to either be yourself or not be yourself. There is a risk there, but sometimes, you can just tell that being yourself isn't what would be the right thing to do in that moment. It's a hard truth, but truth is truth. Sometimes it's hard.
So you choose to be someone else. Maybe just a tamer version of yourself. There's nothing wrong with being tame every now and then. Lions do it all the time. But there comes a point when you can't be tame anymore and you have to just be yourself and do what you have to do. Ask the lions.
Is that alright? Is it okay to do that? I don't know.
But what about when you can't be yourself at all? At any time? Then what do you do? You create this shell of a person that you want to be seen as. I guess. Shells break. Ask the turtles. They know about broken shells. Then their insides are all exposed.
I guess the point is that at some point, you have to shatter that shell and just be you. It is a lot to take in at first because you are in the light for the first time and all of those things have never seen the light before. So it kinda burns and you are blinded a bit, but you get used to it, get a tan, and move on with life, free of the shell. Ask a kangaroo. That's how they feel when they are finally able to leave the pouch.
I'm going to leave the pouch soon. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe I just need a new shell. Hermit crabs have to change shells. Maybe I should too.