The more I reflect, the more I discover.
The more I see the things I never knew I never knew.
The more I feel and reminisce, jumping into puddles of memory;
I kick, and I splash. I have no rainboots, nor umbrella.
The more I find whimsical giggles,
As they steal my very breath away.
So I owe still you the time that I feel happiest, don't I? Well, no better time than the present. So here we go!
I have an overwhelming love of the "sense of abandon." I love the unknown, and I love to see new things (as you should all be aware by now).
The happiest memories of my life have all been based in adventure. Be it driving to and from Chicago with my dad, driving all over the damn state of MN with someone who was so important, road-tripping from SC to AR, AR to MN and back again with a now ex, greyhounding it to the east coast and back, driving across MA, NY, CT, NJ and back again with an absolutely amazing boy, or any time in between. . . I am never happier than I am when feeling that spark inside.
I live for that little spark. The little spark that lights that little flame that warms the little hearts of those cold little things called "doubt" and "rationality." The little spark of free abandon. Why plan an itinerary when you never really know what tomorrow will bring, as it is?
"It'll be an adventure!"
If I could only count how many people have heard me repeat that phrase.
This is one of my most endearing qualities. And equally one of my most off-putting. From "the restaurant lost our reservation? Alright, lets walk until we find somewhere that looks fun," to "ok, it's 5 AM now, and we have a day's worth of travel time left on the road. We have no idea where we're sleeping tonight, and we only have $70 combined? No, no. . . okay. . . we'll find a way to make it happen."
The more possible outcomes there are, the happier I am.
But it always works out. It always ends well.
Of course, it's always easy to say that when you're happy just as long as you're alive and filled with new memories by day's end.
Sleep on the bus station floor? Fuck, well let me just find my hoodie. I can get comfortable.
We have to walk ten miles to the gas station because the car broke down and your phone died? It's cool, the scenery is better in slow-mo, and it really has been a while since we had a good talk.
We got lost an hour and a half ago, and you still can't find the highway? Then take a look around. This might be the only chance you have to see that house, that tree, that mom&pop gas station and that little girl in her wagon. Did you notice that yard had a gravestone in it? 'Cause I sure as hell did. Stop the car, I want to see it up close.
Live a little. Take it in. Sleep on a bench tonight, and tomorrow that bed will feel a hell of a lot better.
Talk to strangers. Just be smart about it.
Don't be afraid. This might all be a story someday, some great tale:
". . . so Grandma told fortunes streetside so she could make it back to MN for your grand-aunt's wedding, and you know, that wasn't even the craziest thing. . . "
That's how I look at it all, at least.
And I'm happy for it.
Also. . . .
I'm going to be 22 in a month and a half. This is odd to me. Yeah.
The more I see the things I never knew I never knew.
The more I feel and reminisce, jumping into puddles of memory;
I kick, and I splash. I have no rainboots, nor umbrella.
The more I find whimsical giggles,
As they steal my very breath away.
So I owe still you the time that I feel happiest, don't I? Well, no better time than the present. So here we go!
I have an overwhelming love of the "sense of abandon." I love the unknown, and I love to see new things (as you should all be aware by now).
The happiest memories of my life have all been based in adventure. Be it driving to and from Chicago with my dad, driving all over the damn state of MN with someone who was so important, road-tripping from SC to AR, AR to MN and back again with a now ex, greyhounding it to the east coast and back, driving across MA, NY, CT, NJ and back again with an absolutely amazing boy, or any time in between. . . I am never happier than I am when feeling that spark inside.
I live for that little spark. The little spark that lights that little flame that warms the little hearts of those cold little things called "doubt" and "rationality." The little spark of free abandon. Why plan an itinerary when you never really know what tomorrow will bring, as it is?
"It'll be an adventure!"
If I could only count how many people have heard me repeat that phrase.
This is one of my most endearing qualities. And equally one of my most off-putting. From "the restaurant lost our reservation? Alright, lets walk until we find somewhere that looks fun," to "ok, it's 5 AM now, and we have a day's worth of travel time left on the road. We have no idea where we're sleeping tonight, and we only have $70 combined? No, no. . . okay. . . we'll find a way to make it happen."
The more possible outcomes there are, the happier I am.
But it always works out. It always ends well.
Of course, it's always easy to say that when you're happy just as long as you're alive and filled with new memories by day's end.
Sleep on the bus station floor? Fuck, well let me just find my hoodie. I can get comfortable.
We have to walk ten miles to the gas station because the car broke down and your phone died? It's cool, the scenery is better in slow-mo, and it really has been a while since we had a good talk.
We got lost an hour and a half ago, and you still can't find the highway? Then take a look around. This might be the only chance you have to see that house, that tree, that mom&pop gas station and that little girl in her wagon. Did you notice that yard had a gravestone in it? 'Cause I sure as hell did. Stop the car, I want to see it up close.
Live a little. Take it in. Sleep on a bench tonight, and tomorrow that bed will feel a hell of a lot better.
Talk to strangers. Just be smart about it.
Don't be afraid. This might all be a story someday, some great tale:
". . . so Grandma told fortunes streetside so she could make it back to MN for your grand-aunt's wedding, and you know, that wasn't even the craziest thing. . . "
That's how I look at it all, at least.
And I'm happy for it.
Also. . . .
I'm going to be 22 in a month and a half. This is odd to me. Yeah.
VIEW 25 of 35 COMMENTS
meatpieboy:
Where did he go??? And he's black, not grey! Does that mean he canceled his account or something??
meatpieboy:
Right. Thank you. And how are YOU?? Some of your posts make me worry a tiny... *hugs* What's up?