backyard crowing


Waxing Cheesy

I waxed cheesy tonight, and here goes...

I'm beginning to realize that I've been a lot of people in my life, and I'm going to be quite a few more before death. Well, I need to hope so, anyway.

I've been an overachiever, a nerd, a music freak (that one will never fade), a Jesusaholic, a sarcastic, a suicidal, a carefree, a writer, a friend, a girlfriend, a friend-with-benefits, a rebel, a goody two shoes, an outcast, an "innie," a rich kid, a poor one, a know-nothing, a flirt, a worker, a shy, an eccentric, a loving, a vain, a confident, a forgetful, a joyous...

I think I'm about to be an (honestly) poor, a happy, a frustrated, an angry, a hopeless, a hopeful, a confident, a far-reaching, a NEW, a recovered, an independent, a listener, a coming of age story.

I believe that I will be myself, and my many faces belong in their places. I try to regret nothing.

Life is over the minute you start. There's no time to waste in being someone else's captive. Fly!

I'm ready for full-fledged so-called "level-headedness" again, and all the insanity that must surely accompany it. I'm ready for anything, and nothing. I feel that it could be time to begin again, and this life curveball might be more disappointing and exhilirating than I could ever imagine.

Constant reinvention of the stuff of life!

I feel like coming home and surveying what I left that morning. I look forward to a cozy little apartment someday to call my own, a place that I pay for and a corner of the world where no one can enter, except by my permission. I look forward to screaming and spinning with my eyes closed and dancing in the rain. I relish the thought of freedom and hills being alive with sounds of music, and smiles from strangers who I will never know, and exchanges and glances that deserve Academy Awards yet will never be seen on film. I cherish the unknown, the invisible, the truly different, the people who don't know me, and who don't care. The unfamiliarity and innocence of when I first meet another human, those few moments when I could say or do anything, and they wouldn't know me from the next person--that--that I love. In this time we can shape ourselves any way we desire. We are up to us. This is the life we choose, this is the persona we present. These initial moments are what define us, and what define what others will think of us. We are free to be at that point, whoever we wish to be. Why not paint a new face each day? Why not experiment? Why not enjoy life to the fullest extent?

Why not break free of your chains?

In being yourself, you transcend all others' attempts to make you theirs, or perfect, or horrid, or anything you wish not to become.

Sometimes, like last night, you must succomb to nature, and lay out on the cool grass, looking up at the moon, closing your eyes, opening them, and breathing slowly, in awe of creation. Occasionally, you must find yourself overcome by a poem or a song, and you must cry. Silently, alone, and with joy or sorrow; but you must cry. Tears heal wounds gradually. Over time, they become lesser and lesser, and eventually they transform into memories, once upon a times, and though they may remain painful, we must use them to release ourselves and learn from the past.

You must laugh with the wind, chuckle at the heavens, close your eyes, and sigh. You must live.


Stuff I found while surfing today:

I just read this in a book: "You are more likely to kill yourself than be killed by someone else."


Also: "...the highest [suicide] rates are...among the elderly. Men kill themselves at about four times the rate of women..."

And, only 1/4 of all suicides include suicide notes.


sometimes i think of jimmy, and his life. someday he could write a great memoir, i'm sure. all this beautiful augusten burroughs nonsense milling about...i would bet that jimmy has some crazy stories of childhood, as well.

- wednesday, nov. 29, 2006


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