I know your life.
Your life is like my life, perhaps with more salt or less sugar. Maybe you've added a bit of spice or a little bit more sweetness. But at the bottom of everything, your life is my life and I know my life. Thus, I know your life.
You went to school. You started young, you took naps in preschool and played around with your friends, imaginary or not. You had a pet, or pets, or wished you had a pet. You learnt to speak, write and lie. You learnt to scare and be scared, to climb trees maybe, or ride a bike or to swim.
Then we're in primary school, and you learn some math and you learn about the pain in others, other countries and you wonder why nothing's done and the grown ups just tell you it's not that simple. You learn some swear words and feel fucking bad ass when you say them in other languages with other attitudes and that's when your parents start to think if maybe you're on the right track.
Your parents try to teach you life skills, like taking out the trash and washing dishes. You wonder why they need to be taught when they're not important to you at all. You begin developing a passion for something; football, art, music, books, TV, food, anger, languages, etc.
And then you're in secondary school. You're self conscious now, wondering if maybe you're not thin enough, or you don't have enough muscles. Maybe your skin is awful or your hair won't obey you. You're fine though, it's just you. You have your crush now but you're so unsure you don't want to do anything about it, or maybe you do but you're still nervous.
I think this is when you realise that you know your life. This is why we subconsciously rebel. We talk back and throw tantrums, we can't be bothered with anything, we don't care. We do things that are immoral or illegal. We try to break this cycle and destroy what we know will come to us. But then we end up dead, or wishing we're dead.
We finally get our heads out of our arses and those of us who cared enough go to university. We study, we work. We buy a house, a car and maybe we get a pet. We fall in love with security and safety, and get married. We have children if we can, and give them names that we like saying. We want to see ourselves in our children, but by now we've forgotten all we've done wrong. We fight with our partners and 2/3 of us will get divorced. We fight our children and 2/3 of them end up hating us.
Or we don't go to university. In which case we skip that part.
Then we play some bingo, finally get rid of some of them nasty habits from when we tried to be different, walk the beach and maybe dance the waltz with our shoes clacking on the parquet floor. We sing softly, alone or not alone, and we die, alone or not alone.
So I know your life. Maybe you'll get fed up with it and stop it somewhere in between or maybe you'll manage to stray enough for me to not know your life. You'll have tragedies but you'll be happy too. Maybe this is all you want, and that's fine too.
Nice post xD
ReplyDeleteBut why's it titled "second hand breast implants"?
because i had just watched a chris crocker video and he said that, and i couldn't think of anything else to name it :D
ReplyDelete