What would they do if I stood up and shouted ENOUGH? I've had outbursts before where I've cursed out the computer because it wouldn't stream the video I wanted to watch, and I've complained for several hours about the stupidity of certain people when I'm with like minded company. But what would people do if I
really spoke my mind instead of just nodding my head in passive agreement or making light of the situation with some feeble joke?
Sometimes I wish I could get up the courage to just let them have a piece of my actual mind. I can picture it in my head. A gallant speech with perfect word choices, common sense drilled into the minds of the temporarily insane, peace had by all because they see that what I've said is true--it's not that big of a deal, it's possible to let it go.
But my words never come out like that. On the few occasions where I've tried to step it up a notch and defend my point of view, the words come out all small and mixed up. What seemed logical in my head is quickly debunked by whoever I'm with, and even if it is actually logical, it quickly gets thrown away because when I say it, it's not strong enough to make a big enough impact.
That's why I write. I write because I can take the time to make my words really STAND OUT. I can take the time to research the situation and reflect on the information I've gathered, then put that knowledge into words that will make people listen. And if they don't quite come out right the first time, it's ok because I can go back and work on it some more. I write so that I can be heard and understood.
***
There is a lot of crap in the world. When you're a kid, you shouldn't notice it because you're too busy playing and imagining. I was lucky enough to be one of those kids until I went into the fifth grade. Then shit hit the fan and broke it
I can tell you exact moments when different fans in my life broke. The fan that spun around my dreams of flying off to Neverland and never growing up broke when I got my first period the fall of 2001. Not a terribly big deal. We all knew it was going to happen, and deep down I knew I'd never make it to Neverland. Peter Pan's sort of a dick anyways.
My naive view of the world broke on September 11, 2001. Not hard to guess what did that. When you feel bad about resenting your grandmother for turning the channel from cartoons to the news because a picture of burning and collapsing buildings comes onto the screen, you realize that you're old enough to
realize that bad stuff actually does happen in the world.
My childhood completely broke down that Christmas. After blood and fire and death, you start to question the existence of Santa Clause. I took it in strides.
Probably the worst broken fan came a couple years later though, right when you think you're in the clear. The day my family broke. A lot changes when your cousin accidentally shoots himself. You're family never really heals from that. Some families can learn to live with it, but my family was not one of them. They just kept deteriorating. Some of us are doing ok, but it hurts to see the others still suffering.
That's why I write. I write because it's too painful to keep this crap locked away inside. You've got to let it out somehow, and when you're not good at letting it out through your mouth and your tears have all dried up, pen and paper come in real handy. I write so I can feel relief.
***
Sometimes I like to get lost in stories. It helps to distract from all the bad and boring stuff that happens. That's why I watch so many movies and tv shows; why I try to read books even though it takes me forever to finish one. I like to imagine that I'm the hero or sometimes the damsel in distress who gets her prince in the end. I like to make up my own sequels once the credits role or the last page is turned. I like to create my own heroes and damsels and get lost in a new, never-before-seen story.
That's why I write. I write because sometimes you need to escape from the real world. When you're focused on the problems of fictional characters, problems that seem infinitely more terrible and inescapable than your own, you can't focus on the miniscule problems that threaten to engulf your entire life. I write because fighting dragons is easier than dealing with emotions.
***
The real world's not always so terrible, though. Sometimes there are grand adventures to be had, new people to meet, and loved ones to be revisited. There can be laughter. Lots of laughter. And there can be smiles. Sometimes it's harder to see these good times through the bad, but they are there, like hidden gems that shine colorful light into your life if you unbury them.
I've traveled to 23 states and 9 countries with friends and family. I've ran into the Balearic Sea with all my close on, stolen binoculars from strangers in Yellowstone trying to get a peak at a wild wolf, snuck a camcorder into the Hogwarts Ride the year it opened, eaten so many Parisian sweats that I threw up, raced wild dolphins and almost won, and raced wild cross country runners in a blizzard and danced to keep from freezing to death at the start line.
I've had some of the best marathons ever. All three of the Lord of the Rings extended DVDs, complete with nightmare-inducing cherries. All the Harry Potter movies, including midnight showings that involved dressing up. All of the Very Potter musicals with the added bonus of a drinking game. All of the Star Wars once the third chronologically-speaking movie came to theaters. All kinds of horror movie extravaganzas for Halloween. An end-of-the-world, 2012 Dawn-of-the-Dead-turned-into-Road-to-Eldorado because we were wasted from taking a shot every time there was a head shot. All completed with the best of friends.
I've met some amazing people. Authors who have encouraged me to keep going with my writing. The spiritual leader of Western Buddhism. The best cover band this side of the Mississppi. Teachers that encouraged me to be my very best self. Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. *fan girl sigh*
And I've met some crazy people. They know who they are. ;)
I've helped out in all kinds of ways. Picked up tires and mattresses and jars full of expired preserved jellies out of the wetlands near my school. Bought groceries for a complete stranger. Helped make better lives for stray dogs and cats. Helped make better lives for children, who surprisingly aren't any quieter than the stray dogs and cats. Raised money for Leukemia and wolves, and donated every time I saw the bell ringers around the Holidays. I've given rides to drunk girls who proceeded to pee in a trash can in the dorm hallway. I've given a ride to a kid who hopefully wasn't drunk and didn't proceed to pee in a trash can once he got home because it was only eleven o'clock in the morning and he was in high school.
I've gone crazy on the dance floor and slept until four in the afternoon. I've had a puppy that grew up to be my best friend. I've had kittens who've grown up to ignore me unless they want something. I've watched the same movie two days in a row. I've been a part of literary magazines and new websites. I've been in love. I've kissed a British guy. I've howled with wolves at sunset and with my teammates at race time.
This is why I write. I write because these true stories are just as fun to share as the made-up ones. Sometimes they're funny, and sometimes it's just nice to reminisce. Sometimes I'm the only one who cares, but someday I'll be old and forgetful, and these are memories that I never want to forget. I write because remembering the good is more important than worrying about the bad.
Why even bother going to a festival? So many of the the stands are just filled with cheap knock-offs that break a day after you buy them, and they're always way too crowded. Sometimes you get excruciatingly hot weather, while other times it's raining. And you never know if you're actually getting a good deal or not.
