Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Tribes.

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've always imagined.”
-Thoreau.

I try to pay heed to this. But.. dude. I never had any dreams. Or confidence. I never even imagined living this long. I don't WANT anything. So I tried to remember what made me happy before, what makes me happy now. Just to, I don't know, if I can't want anything I can atleast try to be grateful for the things I've had. Or something. This is purely for my own peace of mind, but you're welcome to listen in. I have no structure here, I'm just writing down whatever I'm thinking of at the moment. Grateful for, makes me happy, start of rant.

My horses.
Waking up at dawn to be greeted by their hungry whinnies, and the sound of them chewing fifteen minutes later. Warming your face on their big, ragged necks in winter, having grass juice rubbed all over you in the summer. Sharing a carrot. Scratching a particularly itchy spot behind their ears. Racing a friend along the beach, holding on to a bare back with all the strength you have left in your legs. There. Is. Nothing. Better.

My cats.
I was there when they were born, I was there when they died, and they were there for me every day in between. There is no creature on this planet I have ever loved as much.

Taekwondo.
Strength. Stamina. Flexibility. Balance. Control. Technique. And the highly satisfying sound you hear when you kick something hard enough and high enough to know that heads could be broken if you ever find yourself needing it. Plus, it's the most fun I've had in years.

Friends. Two in particular.
Loba was the most important person in my life for 19 years. He made me laugh like no one else ever has (and he still does). He's the first person I ever beat a co-op game with, the first person I trusted to tell a secret, the first person I would think of and talk to when something, anything, happened that I wanted to share with someone. I got my first bee sting because of him, he got his first pair of cowboy chaps because of me (yes, yes he did). We no longer spend seven hours every day talking on the phone, nor do we hang out every weekend (or even any weekend) but he's still a major influence in my life. Always will be. Even if I never get to sleep in his closet ever again. He's the best friend and the best cousin anyone with a sense of humor could possibly have had.
Leichin. Oh man, where to start on that one. He's an asshole. THE asshole. If those small alien ships that took out fighter planes in Independence Day were ordinary assholes, and the bigger ones that took out cities are people like my old German teacher, he'd be that big fat mother ship that Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith smokes cigars in at the end.
But he's also awesomeness incarnate and I have never connected with anyone like with him. He's funny, he's smart, and he never learns to keep his guard up so there's always a way to cause him immense physical pain. Which is a very important trait in a best friend.
I would do anything for him.
Then there's a handful of other people who have meant a lot to me in the past. A few who still do. They are all a part of what has shaped (and sharpened) me. There's my family, dysfunctional and cause of much grief, but I love them and they make me laugh (AT them, not with them).

These days, my life is basically all about the creatures closest to me. The few that are still left. They hurt. I can't make them heal. I can't make them not miserable, I can't stop them from hurting and dying and I can't stop loving them to the extent where I lose myself. I give my dignity away. I keep forgiving until there's nothing left of me. A pattern is established, imprinted on my psyche. I will never live my dreams because in my dreams they are happy. I can't make that happen. Sometimes you think you can love someone enough, but you can't. It doesn't work that way. Sometimes, that makes me feel so alone I can't breathe. I can't live the life I imagined. Don't expect me to care about career choices, pool parties, nice houses, big screen TVs. None of that shit means anything to me.

What I want.. All I want is laughter and love and memories. I want my family to be well enough for me to be able to leave and not worry about them for a while. I want them to have faith when I lose mine. I want to not have to experience those fucking painful days and weeks and months and years of trying to understand, the emptiness of losing. Of just waiting for something to finally snap.

I want to be good enough to deserve being cared for by the people I care for. I don't know if I ever will be. Probably not.

I want everyone to know they matter.

And I want to be able to take off once in a while. Go new places. Be free and not have to worry, not be grinded by guilt.

I have no idea how to achieve any of this.

But it was still pretty nice to get this off my rack.

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