It was on July 3rd 2005, when I left home to start a new life in Tampa Florida. Since then, July 3rd has always been my own personal Independence Day. And since today marks the 20th anniversary of my leaving the nest…I thought I’d post some reflection.
If I could go back twenty years and talk to my 18-year-old self, what would I tell him? What would I tell that jeri-curled, 310-pound big black guy with no sense of fashion, no experience, barely any knowledge of the world, and yet filled inexplicably with uncanny optimism and determination.
Let me start by saying I’m a firm believer in the notion of, “the only one you can control is yourself.”
That being said, I’m aware that it is possible to get people to feel/think/do what you want them to by game, influence, and manipulation. It is possible to convince others to love you, prioritize you, or to like you. If I wanted to, I could do all of this. And yet, I refuse.
If you were to ask me why, I don’t ever think I could respect people like that. It’s like those clips where a guy walks up to a woman, tries to talk to her, she blows him off like he’s no big deal until she sees that he’s driving a Maserati. Then, all the sudden, she hurries over to get his attention. Now, all the sudden she’s interested.
Caution: The following rant contains curse words and piercing ideas that will more than likely enter your subconscious and flip over table. Read at your own discretion.
ALSO, I’d like to point out that as I grow, I’m open to the fact that my opinions will probably change or extend themselves. But I still want to post them, kind of like marking my progress of thought.
More and more, I’m beginning to get the sense that my entire career as a story teller will be dedicated to tearing down the walls of hand-me-down statements you heard growing up. Those statements adults and older teens spit at you that sounded wise and mature. As if to contest them in any way would make you sound immature, childish and full of spite.
Aigoo…
What’s a hand-me-down statement? Here are some hand-me-down statements. When I read them, for some reason, I hear the voice of some stuck up self-righteous babysitter spitting them out to me…Everytime, it’s the darnest thing.
“Two wrongs don’t make it right!”
“Girls are more mature than boys!”
“You shouldn’t care about what others think!”
“Sticks and stones may break my bones…”
“Family will always be there!”
“You can’t pick and choose your family!”
“You’re not the only one in the world going through this!”
…I could go on for hours…
…Two wrongs don’t make it right…Yes it does.
If someone goes out and kills someone. They’ll be caught. Locked up. And either spend the rest of their life in prison or executed. But isn’t holding someone against their will…wrong? Isn’t execution, the act of killing someone, wrong? But the killer did something wrong. And we mask that second “wrong” as punishment. Making it…all right?
I digress…
In this world, there are these bastards…the assholes and bitches who need “problems” in their lives in order to feel like they’re living life. I’ve heard the idea before, but out of my love for the greater humanity, I refused to believe it. I thought to myself… “Who would actually want that kind of stress? Like, actually welcome it?”
The individuals I’m talking about are the ones who if they were tossed in a world where everyone treated them with respect, loved and cherished them, showed them nothing but kindness and generosity…THEIR MINDS WOULD EXPLODE! They need that conflict. And worst!!!! They don’t want to do anything about that conflict besides bitch about it!
And my dumbass actually listens to them. I actually take in what they’re saying, like a naïve little boyscout. I commiserate with them. And I don’t just say, “I’m sorry you’re going through that.” Instead, I actually put forth an effort to come up with a solution to their problems.
SOLUTIONS?
NO!!!!!
Solutions to these people are like the water to the Wicked Witch of the East…or West. Whichever one that melts.
Stage In The Sky 