Thursday, January 19, 2017

Mercurial is the word of the day.

Sometimes I absolutely hate me. I look at myself, my life, the things I do every single figgen day and I am disgusted. I look at all the things I am disgusted about with myself; I want to be more fun, more spontaneous, more sassy, more clever, you know, all those things that make a person interesting and enjoyable to be around. I want to be more organic and more artistic, I want to be a writer who goes on tours and ends up at house parties and meets and talks to other interesting people who have experienced interesting stuff. I want to be more real, you know? So, why can't I do it?
Honestly, I know it is because my favorite thing to really do is go to bed early wrapped in my warm blanket and read, or hang out and cuddle with my Hunny after eating a yummy dinner. Some of it is because I used to actually be more of all those things and I used to talk to all those supposedly interesting people and all I have gained from that lifestyle was a lot of stories, some fun and some much less fun and some slightly embarrassing. I have gained a healthy dose of disenchantment from all the standing-on-a-soapbox lectures I have heard from people who I had thought were interesting but they turned out to just be authority bucking dickheads with a bad attitude toward anything they thought was too conventional or made then feel like "sheeple", like a 9-5 job or having new appliances.
But this doesn't stop me from the looking out and mentally crying out as the artistic spirit inside me dies a little every time that I go to work at my own 9-5 job and sit at my own desk or those days when I sit and watch TV for 4 hours instead of going out and living and being real out in the world.
Why isn't the 9-5 lifestyle real enough though? Why does it take that I-am-spontaneous-I-am-an-artist-I-ain't-a-sheep lifestyle to make me feel real? I know I am not the only one who has that spirit inside that reaches out for the idea of a close knit extended family of friends and other artists like me who all sit around and talk about their art and think great amazing thoughts.
But, you know what, 9-5 jobs are real too! Being a women in the 'burbs who gets out her artistic desires in holiday decorations and DIY projects is a perfectly real life! So why doesn't that feed the spirit, why doesn't that shut up that voice that screams at me to do more, to be free?
I guess everyone wishes for a different life then they have, to live without rules and having to answer to anyone. I guess most people wake up most days before work and think "this working shit just isn't for me". There is a part of me that wished that I had grown up to be a certain way, who wanted to live in the city and take buses to central park and sit on a blanket in the sun and write stories and go to shows at night and end up on random adventures till I watch the sun rise. One of my tattoos is a little naked Tinkerbell fairy with her arms crossed and looks all pissed off. She is the spirit inside me who is angsty and pissed off at everything, and isn't happy with the the way things are, even if they are good. She is the spirit that wants to be alone in the woods writing, or off on a random adventure after a night of listen to music and talking to great interesting people. I see her for what she is though, and I know if she was talking to those people she would see right through their act of great thoughts and soap-box-standing lectures for what they are, just immature jerks who want to be "different" just for the sake of going against "the-man". If she was on an adventure some late night she would be tired and want to go home to her comfy bed and cuddle with the man she loves.
I wish I could live every minute enjoying and reveling in the life I am living right now and not have to fight my angry Tinkerbell who screams at me that I am not living a real life. Sometimes I get swallowed by the feeling, and those are the worst days. 
I really do love the artists, the thinkers of great thoughts and the unconventional anti-authority spontaneous people who go off and live great adventures, I really do. They inspire me, it makes me happy to watch them and talk to them and share the moments with them. I love the spray paint artists on New York sidewalks, and the musicians who carry gear hundreds of miles in a beater car just to play a show for free in a hot church basement, and the entrepreneur's who have amazing ideas and want to pitch them all to you just because your willing to listen. But I also love the feeling of safety in a paycheck every other week and the warmth of my house filled with mod-pog covered light switches and new appliances. I do love the life I have, but there are days when none of it feels real. I guess everyone has mercurial tendencies, we all want to be more, but really, we enjoy just being us. 

1 comment:

  1. Careful you are turning into your mother.... I love you....