Why does everyone have to shit on everything? Finding something beautiful or thought-provoking or imbued with purpose is important to a happy life; to share something that has had an impact or made you feel something is a deeply personal exercise. You are revealing something elemental, a bit of who you are and how you operate, perceive the world. But we are all cynics, armchair-whatevers that have an opinion and live in a society that encourages that you not only frequently state yours but enables you to rate the feelings, thoughts of someone else. Gross.
Dialogue, debate, passion. Yes! Share. Please. These are important things. Telling me I’ve “finally woken up” is insulting (perhaps only in context but…) Mocking my desire to see the beauty in things is just sort of shitty and worthless; it lacks purpose, adds no value and makes you look like an asshole—the kind of penis wrinkle that steals parking spots from octagenarians.
I want to live fully and adventurously. I want to taste, smell, dance, swim, create and I want to be able to share what I saw and how I felt. I am cautious and, in quiet moments, am really scared about a lot of things. I internalize often and am reluctant to reveal too much to anyone lest they judge. But I want to feel like the people around me recognize the very real parts of me that think twirling is amazing, that loves walking in grass with bare feet, that loves being alive and gets incredibly excited by the details.
If you don’t like it, don’t love it. It being me.
I’ve made a decision. I am eliminating the bullshit. It’s cluttering my life with nonsense. It has shit for brains and it isn’t courageous. Negative energy is packing its boxes, wrapping its trinkets carefully and taking its sweet time. But 30-days notice has been given and it’s moving on UP! or out. Don’t know. But it certainly ain’t welcome here. My apartment is small and there is only so much room to twirl.
