Thursday, December 9, 2010

Matter Is More Than Solid ... Blah Blah Blah

"Blah blah blah dee blah dee blah doo dee do umm blah de blah ... yadda yadda yadda blah, ugh, blah" ...

So goes the conversations that most people have with others and with themselves... every day, myself included. "Woe is me ..., " we cry ... "I'm broke ..", "I'm unemployed...", "I'm single..." ... "I'm fat,"... I'm married...", McDonalds gave me cold fries at the drive-thru ..." ... "I have herpes...".. whatever. Blah, blah, blah... yadda, yadda, yadda.

Have you ever been slapped in the face with a forty-pound trout that had already been pinned to a cedar plank? I'm not talking about the fun, sexual foreplay trout-slapping, but the 'snap-out-of-it-you-whining-pissy-bastard' slapping. If not, then you should visit your local supermarket and ask the butcher for a 'Visage Fish' dinner. Or, better yet, make a phone call to someone who can speak fluent "Blah dee blah" yet considers the language as defunct as Aramaic ...

"What the shiznit are you talking about?", you might ask ... (cleaning up the language for my mom)

Fair enough ... being that my train of thought is more a 'Little Engine That Could' than a Thomas the Train mentality, I'll elaborate. I owe it to humanity to either educate or alienate the masses as my destiny has been sealed although it was sealed with watered-down Elmer's glue and not contact cement. ...

Tonight I spoke to a friend. This friend has stepped upon the shore of the River Styx, extended her middle finger and raspberried Cerberus, Hades and any long-toothed fish in that damn river, turned her back, mumbled 'Fuck You, Death," and is now scoffing at nature, life, death and .those who underestimate the human spirit.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I've always heard about the power of the human spirit. Yet, I've never really understood or appreciated what the human spirit is all about. To me, the human spirit is portrayed in a heartwarming story during the holidays ... The Hallmark Holiday Special presentation of "My Daddy Died at Christmas, but Didn't Really Die, Was Addicted  to Everything Bad, Had a Disgusting Life But Always Wanted to Know His Family". You know, real life.

Real life to me is living down my past failures, wanting to make amends with children who can't, or won't understand my personal weaknesses and attempting to be of value, monetarily and emotionally, to someone who accepts me for my mind and spirit and not my numerical value even though that someone could care less about monetary value. Hey, it's my mind, don't try to understand unless you want to be immersed in a decades-long educational journey.

But tonight, a fish on a board slapped me.

Imagine, if you will, being full of promise and dreams. Suddenly, a single unwanted, hatred-filled act of another directed towards you skews those naive thoughts of a seamless future. Then, imagine that a few years later, a failed relationship ... and then ... an attack on your health. Imagine Cancer invades ... again, and again.

Not all is lost ... you meet someone who sees you at your most vulnerable... yet, you're loved and appreciated despite your weakness. How difficult this must be on the one who sees the life in the eyes of one who laughs through the pain and tears.

Imagine that you know this person who never once complains about the sickness and pain of therapy. Imagine for a moment that this person has defied the odds and shouldn't be alive yet, is not only alive, but is living a life more fulfilling than your own..

It sort of takes the sting out of that worry of whether or not your Christmas gift will be appreciated more than another's gift, eh?

My face smells like fish and not in a good way. I've survived dumbass suicide attempts. I've avoided prison rape. I'm still marvelling at broken bones in my fingers. But, I've never faced death. Yeah, ok, my dumbassed-ness attempts to say 'Sayonara' might count as facing death but I've never been smacked with the possibility of death through no fault of my own. I was stupid. I had a deathwish and pushed limits and for some unknown reason those limits pushed back and screamed at me. saying, "Hey, FuckTard! You're not worthy to die yet!". Thank you, cosmos ... thank you because you have kept me kickin' long enough to recognize that my spirit is weak and needs educatin' ...

And so I come to my friend ... I'm at a loss. How can someone who has endured so much pain .... so much sickness... so much  pain, again ... find the words to encourage someone such  as myself? I'm someone who seems to be lacking. I've suffered and lost. Yet, I'm alive. No matter, I feel lack and loss. Yet, this friend who has cheated death and struggles with similar daily struggles as my own grasps life and love and squeezes it by the balls.

I'm not gay but I'd love to squeeze life by the balls, assuming Life is a male.

Let me put this into a personal perspective. I've had money. At one time, not too long ago but in a far, far away place, I would buy and buy and buy .. I would always take advantage of sales on batteries, thong underwear and novelty t-shirts. The staples of a bi-polar mind. Then, one day, my local Hot Topic informed me  that they had sold out of the newest Hasselhoff t-shirt.
Where was my money to go? I already owned the 'More Cowbell' series. I was never into Transformers ... Nordtroms was getting a bit pricey with their shit ... C'mon... I was manic and needed clothes that I'd later sell on eBay for a loss.

Turns out that my worries were without merit ... a manic mind, no matter the limit, will not match the credit limit of the chosen card of the manic mind.

Where are you going with this, Jeff? Long story short ... I'm fucked in the head. I've loved, I've lost. I love passionately and I love uncondtionally. I'm loved uncondtionally. I lack. I want. I need. But I have everything.

My friend has shown me that having everything is nothing but having nothing is everything. A smile and a hug are more powerful than a bottle of aspirin and better on your liver than two Aleve. A laugh takes the place of a glass of wine and an hour of writing about one's pain is more effective than six months of medication.

I won't give up, even when giving up seems easy, because of one person I know that sees surrender as defeat. Loss of things and others is part of life but loss of self is unnatural.

You might know someone who never complains. There is a friend or family member who downplays pain and life's  injustices. Don't try to understand why they do so. Recognize your own fears that plague you. You know, the ones that really pale next to those who offer encouragement despite their own personal travails. I'm not there yet. I can't understand how someone can smile, offer encouragement and laugh at my lame jokes when my biggest problems hold no relevance to "Can I hold on and survive until Christmas?"

I'm starting with my fear of spiders and moving to my fear of acceptance. Spiders don't give two shits about me. I'm good with that. Ya know what? You might not give two shits about me either... I'm okay with that too. Blah dee blah dee blah. What I say means nothing to most but to me, it's yadda yadda yadda.

I'll spread my fingers over my eyes and wink at my friend in recognition of her strength and survival. My own fears of survival as one who is largely unaccepted and misunderstood remain but are lessened a bit due to one who sees life as I see it but approaches it without fear. I want that life, without the pain, but i wonder if that is possible. Blah dee blah dee blah blah blah ...

1 comment:

  1. It's possible, and I promise you can get there. Here's something to help you along your path to overcoming your fear of spiders: During a lifetime, each of us swallows an average of eight spiders in our sleep. Feel better? Yeah, I knew you would. Laugh, dear one, laugh, and remember, the joy is in waking up on this side of the dirt! Everything else is gravy...