Life should be the title of a novel , each chapter pertaining to a lesson learned. When I first meet someone, I don’t base their character by the college they attended or the endless list of people they name drop. I want to know, how did you get here? How the hell did you end up here, at this very moment. Tell me about your life, things you’ve done, the good & the ugly. Don’t sugar coat a thing, it makes for a boring story. Who was the arrogant asshole that based our very existence on feats & milestones?
I’ve done it all man, I mean done it ALL. Just ask me, I’m not shy, I have no reason to hide who I am & neither should you. I don’t have many people in my life who I can honestly say know the real me & I’m sure you can say the same. Being human, we are conditioned to constantly evolve. One could talk to someone who “knew” me 10 years ago, shit even a year ago. Do you know what they would say? Stass, oh man, that girl is crazy! There was this one time…..and then would go on to tell a tale of how I made a whole room drop their jaws.
The only thing I can do is laugh, because well, I did do a lot of fucked up shit, but had a blast. I never cared what people though of me, I enjoyed being different. You want to know how to really piss people off? Smile & be happy. For some reason, that kills people! Usually, the ones who portray accomplished lives they lead. Guess what? You are a generic American & actually quite boring. They know their lives are very routine, yet somehow manage to swallow the bullet and succumb to “The American Way”. Or maybe the Prozac in their medicine cabinet is to blame?
Depression, that’s another one. We act as if this state of mind is a terrible thing. You feel sad? Our body is telling us,” Hey something is wrong, let’s fix this issue! Our bodies are machines, working hard everyday to keep us alive. Why fight it? Not……Here, take this twice a day, walk around like a zombie & forget you felt anything in the first place. The little pill you take only mask the symptom, not solve the problem. . I will bet my life on the fact the reason why you’re depressed is because you aren’t being true to yourself. Somewhere along the line, someone made it wrong for us to follow our dreams. Oh, you want to be an artist? Yea well, that won’t support your six children or your wife’s shopping habit. So in the back of your mind, as your running on fumes at the end of the day from the office, you’re always wondering…what if?
So you start daydreaming….What if I would have followed my passion for art? Could I have traveled to some European country & studied the landscaped? Would my gallery be in an up and coming neighborhood or in a barn on the outskirts of small town U.S.A.? Maybe, just maybe, I would have one of those girlfriends who willingly pose in the nude for me. Then the phone rings. I need you to stop at the grocery store and pick up a gallon of milk.
For some ungodly reason, I feel the Midwest is notorious for this type of behavior. Maybe it’s because I’m from here. But fuck me running, a lot of these people are so damn negative. I get irritated talking to some people when I’m home. I feel like it’s WWII & their dropping a bomb on practically anything pleasant I have to say.
I promise you, there will come a time in your life when you look back & begin to wonder. Did I do it right? Was this the life I was meant to lead? Those Miss America pageants kill me……”I wish for world peace.” If you ever caught me dead in a pair of six inch heels again, I would wish for inner peace for all.
I live in a van because I WANT to. At 25, I chose to not have a 30 year mortgage or a child on each hip. Sure, I could have a Ph. D in some bullshit subject, but would I be happy? I will never know & not in anyway regret it.