Start thinking at 2AM and sleep sneaks out of the room once and for all with the intention to ditch you. You're either overzealous or half asleep most of the time, and if you could choose one over the other you'd take the zeal for sure. But, truth be told, it doesn't come around that much these days. You're imagining standing up and reading your words, and wondering does anyone want to hear your false starts, the sounds of you walking aimlessly the floor, watching nothing move, hearing time slip? Someone in your head's audience says, "do it", and fifty others heckle, throw fruit, suck their teeth. Someone in the back says "sheeeiiit!"
This is what we used to call psyching someone out. You can do that to yourself now.
Give yourself 30 days. There are all kinds of thirty day challenges out there these days. We are all striving toward improving ourselves beyond perfection, either that or sleeping away our days. Even just thinking this thought, I can see an audience comprised of a cheerleader, a pep talker, some kids under slicked hair, leather jackets and defiant leers, the faceless "sheeeiit" sayer, but most of them are just plain tuned out, playing their DS or sexting - whatever it is the kids do these days.
I'd like to walk into the home just as solid, upright and confidence-inspiring as Mr. Ward Cleaver. Maybe it's the fedora that lent men credibility, that and a grey suit.
The kid, 13, took to me alright. He spent some time telling me about being misunderstood by adults - parents, teachers - and also the cool kids. He's got some friends, and they worship the Insane Clown Posse, and he wants to prove to me that you can't just judge them by their appearance, that there is something redeeming in their music. I get it, smile, let him make the argument. The kid tells me, but he's really asking me, that everyone thinks about killing themselves sometimes. He says he'd never do it though, and I ask him why not.
Because I have people who love me.
Yes, you do, and may you always...
There's this place in Brazil, somewhere in my mind's eye. I feel this soft breeze and hear this soft music and think maybe I can relax there. Suave. Soft. Shhh.
This is what we used to call psyching someone out. You can do that to yourself now.
Give yourself 30 days. There are all kinds of thirty day challenges out there these days. We are all striving toward improving ourselves beyond perfection, either that or sleeping away our days. Even just thinking this thought, I can see an audience comprised of a cheerleader, a pep talker, some kids under slicked hair, leather jackets and defiant leers, the faceless "sheeeiit" sayer, but most of them are just plain tuned out, playing their DS or sexting - whatever it is the kids do these days.
I'd like to walk into the home just as solid, upright and confidence-inspiring as Mr. Ward Cleaver. Maybe it's the fedora that lent men credibility, that and a grey suit.
The kid, 13, took to me alright. He spent some time telling me about being misunderstood by adults - parents, teachers - and also the cool kids. He's got some friends, and they worship the Insane Clown Posse, and he wants to prove to me that you can't just judge them by their appearance, that there is something redeeming in their music. I get it, smile, let him make the argument. The kid tells me, but he's really asking me, that everyone thinks about killing themselves sometimes. He says he'd never do it though, and I ask him why not.
Because I have people who love me.
Yes, you do, and may you always...
There's this place in Brazil, somewhere in my mind's eye. I feel this soft breeze and hear this soft music and think maybe I can relax there. Suave. Soft. Shhh.
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ReplyDeleteThanks, John.
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