Thursday, April 12, 2012

YOUTH: You're probably fucking up, but don't worry about, you've got time.


There's something about the smell of the air at 10pm in Hollywood, when the sky doesn't give you the privilege of seeing the stars that makes you feel like you're eighteen again.

...tugging at your clothes wondering if you look pretty, if people will think you're funny, or if they're feigning interest... or if people can tell you've been eating peanut butter for dinner for like, a month straight, while piling into a car with a person you barely know, wondering if they're going to remember your name when you run into them at Gelson's in a week.

There's something about that smell. 10pm, right before summer comes full force, that reminds me of all those weird insecurities that you hope you've masked enough for functionality sake...now that you're 25 and all. You'll put this mask on autopilot. Chipping away at truths, layers trailing behind you, reminding you of what you're desperately trying to shed.

But here's the thing about youth. Right? YOUTH. Isn't it equally magic and horrendous at once?

The thing is this; sometimes, when you're 25, you'll end up cuddling with someone you shouldn't and you'll feel terrible the next morning and think, "when in the fucking, FUCK am I going to get it right?" then, you'll remember that sometimes, a warm bicep feels better than a pillow.

That sometimes, you'll isolate yourself and then you'll spread yourself thin. Sometimes, you'll be in the middle of the desert, with your arms in the sky, fingers splayed, tips touching the smoky dome of the Universe and you'll think, "Am I experiencing the actual best moment of my life right this second?" Then you'll fist your hands back up, the lights will turn off and you'll worry about your taxes. Or if you're eating enough greens.

Sometimes, you'll play Tetris with your plans and awkwardly dance atop the teeter totter like a lost puppy with a smile on their face while repeating, "I got this... I think? I got this... i think?" and like a charged game of Russian Roulette you'll hope you land on "GOT THIS SHIT." Then of course, you won't land there and you'll make yourself a quesadilla. And hopefully, play another game.

Sometimes, you'll have all the feelings and feel nothing at the exact same time and you'll think, "oh my god...is THIS the undiscovered dimension all humans throughout time have been feeling?" Then, you'll crawl into your bed all charged and "wise" and suddenly, you're on your phone debating ordering a pizza or calling your Mom, pretending that you have your shit together. Then you'll meditate, do some yoga, talk to God and feel "okay" again, until you wake up and have to relearn the epiphanies you had the night before and then, you'll feel bad for forgetting them. For not taking them seriously enough. For not making significant life-altering changes on your way to Starbucks, interspersed into your Daily Routine.

SOMETIMES, while you're mid-hangover, you'll be sitting alone at a café and the most beautiful family will be sitting in front of you and you'll be like, "THAT'S ALL I WANT." Then, you'll proceed to text that person who makes you feel like a Douchebag to see if they'll acknowledge your existence, by which the following steps occurs- Step 1. If so, they give you one word. You do a cartwheel. You project progress. Step 2. you'll try to hang out with them, which obviously won't happen... Step 3. You actually give up. A month later, you're back at the same café, staring creepily at a family coveting their life and thinking, "I'm lonely. No, I'm not, I'm awesome?... But still, I'm here creepily envying you? " thus, back to feeling all the things at once.

Sometimes, you'll collect all the wrong people and place them behind your fancy Windex-assaulted hutch, shiny glass and all and then at some unexpected point, you'll be forced to reevaluate their worth and realize you have to make a painful trade. You'll give up and then you'll take up. Then, you'll repeat it all again.

Sometimes, you'll have everything you want right in front of you, but you won't give it the time of day because you're too afraid to let go of the things that validate you just enough to survive, while counteracting your true desires at the same time. Because, obviously, it's too risky to flee. If you let go of one, what if nothing becomes of the other? Then you'll wonder why you're still hungry, clutching to the familiar.

Sometimes, you'll wake up. And each time, you hope you'll stay awake. Until you accidentally fall asleep again...

Sometimes you'll make a thousand excuses as to why you can't. Why you can't find love, why you can't pursue your dreams, why you can't find the time...then, while you're surrendered, empty and ready to be filled again you'll hear this strained voice tell you;

"Move out of your own way."

What they were really trying to say when they were telling you to "let go," was "...kindly unclench your tiny fists that are holding that "thing" that you so want to get rid of, move out of your own way."

It isn't that you're "too busy," or that you don't know what to do, it's that you've decided to know the answers before living through the answers, move your stubbornness aside. Then see the result. In fact, don't just move out of your own way... keep moving, in general. Move. Shift. Take steps.

Sometimes, you'll be like an elephant who just wants to plant a pretty daisy amidst the rose garden and proceeds to fuck the whole operation up.



What are you learning about YOUTH....what do you acknowledge to be true?










 
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