Thinking for the Thoughtless

Sometimes I wonder if I see this place a little differently.  I’ll spare you all the existential questions…only because I’m too tired to relay them properly.  But the basics that you may or may not be interested in is this:

Do we get a say?

I’ve always joked that each passing day only serves as a small step, or jolt, into life as my mother.  (not that that’s a bad thing)  I’ve laughed at how I pretend listen to people and how I’ve genuinely developed a passion for silence. Oh, and gardening. Growing shit gets me #turnt.

Did I use that word properly? 

But what I’ve never really contemplated before were all of the habits in life I’d sworn off. I can’t deny that I have traits of my mother and father hiding somewhere behind all of the bits that make me – me, but I actively believe that we get to choose who we become. We aren’t subjected to nature’s plan.

I’ve seen a lot of heartache in my family.  I’ve accepted a long time ago that people cannot always be who we wish they could be.  Not everyone wants something more.  Sometimes they just want for now, and you’re not always a part of that now. I’ve become okay with that over the years.

Don’t get me wrong.  I still have my random breakdowns.

Like on a long flight from Baton Rouge to Charleston… somewhere around the 11C row.  (Hypothetically speaking, of course)

Seeing the way addiction has taken control over so many of my loved ones is the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through in life. Especially witnessing that addiction destroy someone I admire more than words can express.  Someone I know has something to live for.

I wish he knew he had a say.

When I see people I love struggle with addiction, I want to scream at them.  Not in anger, but in a desperate attempt to wake them.  How do they not see their life the way I see it?  I want them to know this world is beautiful at times.  I want them to see the joys in the little things.  I want them to use the bad times merely as a juxtaposition of how effing awesome the good times are.

Occasionally, I think I just got lucky in what I had a say in… but then I remember I’ve never won anything in my life.

I have to choose to be happy on a daily basis.  Sometimes I smile when I don’t want to, and laughing is harder than letting the vices of this world overcome me.  Still, every now and then, there is something that lets me know I was meant to experience all this so that I can be whole.  So that I am forced to know myself, and I’m forced to appreciate the little things and the people around me who make them not so little.

– Cap

Dream Crushers, Man

I know I’ve been on this cheesy, insufferable kick about following your dreams, becoming the person you know you can be, running through a field of sunflowers, eating pudding first and all those other instagram clichés…

But life man, it’s been good lately.

So, to the poor sir who attempted to sway me in my career path yesterday – consider this my public apology.

Unlike yourself, I realize I was way off base.

I wish I had something significant and heartfelt to tell you.  Something that acknowledged your attempt to be forewarning, but also justified my urging desire to tell that bus you’ve been driving through kid’s dreams to eff off.  But all I can seem to conjure up is a damn hashtag, and that would only aid in your statement that us “youngsters” don’t think things through.

And you’re right.

blog pic
Cap’s list of 25 things. (Circa 2009)

Because if I thought about how hard life was going to be trying to get a job as a writer, I’d probably decide to get the guarantee in publicity and off myself right before something really phenomenal made it through publishing.

Think Bradley Nowell from Sublime or John Kennedy Toole (author of Confederacy of Dunces)

That would be easier than this unnerving feeling – this rushing flow of emotions that consumes you right when things in life finally start to bloom. 

Because that shit is scary. 

What if you’re wrong? What if this isn’t what you thought you wanted?  What if everyone (stranger included) was right?  

I think we experience this rush of fear because we aren’t used to seeing things through. We’re accustomed to adjusting our goals and falling trap to the larger, pessimistic norm in society.  People have taught us to dream big, but they never expected we would. 

I know I’ll be broke. I know ramen noodles will be #lyfe. I realize 600 square feet could be cashed in for a mansion on a farm.  But I don’t think about those things. I have an end game in mind and however I get there works. 

With the exception of turning full on Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”.  (NYC isn’t even worth those safety pin boots)

I’m sorry for laughing when you offered me a job in technical writing. I realize a job is better than my current options, but you caught me on good day, Sir.  You caught me on the one day when my lifelong dreams were actually coming to fruition, and the ability to throw you under the dream crusher bus just felt too good.

So if you ask me what I go to school for, and I answer you directly.  If you ask me what I want to write, and I respond with specifics.  If you ask me my plan, and I respond passionately.  Don’t be offended when my snide rejection feels like a direct kick in the gut.

It was meant to. Lastly, for the sake of all that is good and holy   (aka JEANNIE) – don’t tell me how hard my life is going to be.

It’s been hard. This is the good part.