People are different behind the wheel than in front of it.
Well, for starters, if you’re in front of the wheel, you don’t want to get run over. Haha, no I’m kidding. I wrote that statement just now and thought it sounded so profound until I really thought about it. Basically I’m trying to say you’re a different person while driving than not. Somehow driving is the one thing we do that really tests our patience to the point some have road rage. Why is that? I can never figure it out. The very same people who have terrible road rage can be the nicest, sweetest people in person. I don’t get it. So do those people hide their impatience behind the mask of being polite? Driving is a litmus test for how patient someone really is. Or is driving a separate animal all together and you can’t count it as a test for anything? Now that’s interesting. We should do a study of people’s personalities and how it correlates to what kind of driver they’ll be if such a study hasn’t been done yet. I could Google it, but I’m too lazy. There’s something cathartic about typing my guts out onto a blank piece of paper. I like it. 🙂
Sometimes I feel like a silent loudspeaker. It’s like my thoughts and actions are being broadcast on some big screen somewhere that everybody knows except for me and everyone who is around me acts like they know nothing. Oh, wait…that’s like the Truman Show. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that movie, but I get the gist of it and I remember really liking it. It’s one of the few Jim Carrey movies I like. It’s sad though because every time I think of Jim Carrey, which is not very often, I think of depression. I think he has been diagnosed with clinical depression at some point and it made me sad to think a lot of comedians are going through this or have gone through this. It’s like you can’t be really funny without having gone through a lot of unpleasant experiences, some downright shitty.
Maybe we are all on our individual Truman Show and different shows collide. And that’s how black holes form. Or hurricanes and earthquakes happen. But I think I feel this way because people are way too judgmental. It just takes one look for me to know someone is judging me. Usually it’s something I share about myself with them. When I get that judgy vibe coming from them, it doesn’t encourage me to keep sharing. Or it makes me want to edit what I say in real-time. If I notice myself starting to do that with someone, that’s the beginning of me knowing I won’t be close friends with this person. In the best case scenario it’ll just take me a little longer to become good friends with this person. The funny thing is, people are quick to judge without knowing the whole picture. We can’t help it. It’s kind of in our DNA. We go for the worst in people. Let’s be curious thinkers instead of Negative Nancies.
Sharted. That stands for shit and farted. When I see that word, I remember exactly who told me the meaning, how embarrassed I felt because of how loud the girl who told me the word was laughing, and how ridiculous the whole conversation was. I don’t think sharting is a common occurrence for a lot of people. It happens about as often as a blizzard. But the word makes me think of a shark simply because of how close these words sound. Who knows? Maybe sharting happens more often for sharks. J slash K! If you’re a non-smoker I’m all in. The girl had black hair. Actually I don’t know what to call it anymore since apparently there’s no such thing as black hair. Pocahontas! She had blue highlights as well.
There’s a feeling you get when you know something is about to happen. But then again, something may not happen. So you question it, back and forth like a pendulum. It’s a little like nervousness and it’s a little like throwing up. I know I’m not describing this feeling very well, but I don’t think there’s a word out there for it yet. I guess you just have to be in my body feeling what I’m feeling to really know what I’m talking about. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
You’re not going to ever feel exactly what I’m feeling. But it’s okay because I’m not ever going to feel exactly what you’re feeling either. There’s not another person out there exactly like me and there’s not another person out there exactly like you. Isn’t the world a wonderful place? So knowing this it makes me sad to think someone would feel so unworthy to be in existence they end their life by their own hands. Or someone would cause physical harm to themselves. People have seriously made life a lot more complicated than it is, but then again, maybe the way I experience reality is different from the way you experience yours so who am I to judge you for how you live? But if I don’t voice it out loud, I’m still going to do it in my head whether I notice it or not. You know what I mean?
I remember getting a B on that English paper back in 12th grade, a satire, something about dead skin cells, and it was my suggestion. “Ew!” my friend said. It was her immediate reaction. I didn’t know how to tell her that I see past all the “ewness” and I love it. I deal with stuff that’s not so pretty all the time. It’s a gift. Dealing with stuff that’s not so pretty is a beautiful thing and sometimes it feels like I’m one of the few people who understands this. Plus satires are meant to have gross things in them to use for exaggeration purposes and dead skin cells seemed like the perfect touch. I even kind of remember my English teacher commenting on the paper that she liked it. But who knows. My brain could be making up that memory just because it seems like that memory would make sense. I bet some Psych major out there knows exactly what this is called. But I’m no Psych major. I’m just the girl who can not flinch when people talk about dead skin cells.
More and more her thoughts grew, like an ulcer inside of a stomach. Then one day, the VCR in her brain ejected a novel.
The robins were everywhere. It was starting to look like an Alfred Hitchcock movie. They were searching for the unlucky worms kicked out of their apartments due to flooding.
Sometimes we have robins after us and we are the worms—no safe place to crawl when pushed to the brink of insanity. So we take the first step we have to because this step is the only way out of our current crazy situation. We are forced to take a chance on our lives. No one really knows what will happen, but those who are resilient will survive and even thrive.
Sometimes we are the robins and we are after the worms—taking advantage of new opportunities that pop up, even at the expense of someone else’s life path. So we find people when they are vulnerable and pounce when it’s the appropriate time to snatch away the future that was supposed to be theirs. Maybe at first this new future belongs to us and feels good, but not long after the guilt sinks in and you live in fear someone somewhere will do the same to you one day.
The million dollar question is, are you the robin or the worm?