Life's a bitch.
“Life’s a bitch, living in the first world.” My friend Becky says this often, when picnicers complain about the everyday, the mundane. It seemed…appropriate.
Three people have now responded to the various pieces of writing that pecked out of my tired fingers today. And all three had the same thing to say: “You should feel lucky. You live in America. You have rights and freedoms others only dream about.”
How very, very true. There are a host of different rights and privileges I do enjoy on a daily basis, many of them with a great deal of enthusiasm – like writing how I really feel about yesterday’s results.
To me though, it all seems like comparing apples to solid-state booster rockets. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the rights I already have – that’s not the point. I am tired of the hypocrisy. Of this American Dream, and the freedom of choice and expression, and the host of other ideals that we tout worldwide – not all get to participate and I find the most dissatisfaction with that. “Don’t piss on my shoe and tell me it’s raining.” Don’t tell me you’re protecting traditional marriage, while you really try and marginalize my people. It insults my intelligence, and makes me write these terribly long passages that cause everyone so much concern.
I’ve also been asked to see all the beauty that surrounds me, to not give up on the wonders of everyday life. It’s been said that all of life isn’t one big storm cloud.
I agree.
My life is one of the best around; or at least I’d like to argue. I have two wonderful families. I have a wonderful boyfriend and a quirky feline companion. I have kind, considerate, and compassionate friends. I have plans for the future. I have been blessed with more opportunities than I can count. I am well provided for. I have people watching over me.
Life hasn’t always been that way though. During the dark times, feeling was something foreign, a non-issue even. Pain, suffering, anguish, hurt, pleasure, passion, love, happiness, and even joy…they did not exist for a period much longer than seems possible in looking back today. And that is where the thoughts of today rise.
I debated long and hard before sitting down in hopes of expressing my hurt and anguish. Was it appropriate, could I be sincere and honest? I believe I was. So often in this life, I have taken horrible occurrences and brushed them off, but for once I had to feel it. I had to allow the hurt and pain and torture to overcome me and then flow out in order to return to a state of grace.
I had hoped those that read what I had to say would have found the glimmers of hope, the call to action, the pleas to not forget the ones that are most affected by what has happened, our children. Perhaps though, it all got lost in the storm of emotion.
The clouds are clearing. Come walking with me, in the light of the new day.
Three people have now responded to the various pieces of writing that pecked out of my tired fingers today. And all three had the same thing to say: “You should feel lucky. You live in America. You have rights and freedoms others only dream about.”
How very, very true. There are a host of different rights and privileges I do enjoy on a daily basis, many of them with a great deal of enthusiasm – like writing how I really feel about yesterday’s results.
To me though, it all seems like comparing apples to solid-state booster rockets. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the rights I already have – that’s not the point. I am tired of the hypocrisy. Of this American Dream, and the freedom of choice and expression, and the host of other ideals that we tout worldwide – not all get to participate and I find the most dissatisfaction with that. “Don’t piss on my shoe and tell me it’s raining.” Don’t tell me you’re protecting traditional marriage, while you really try and marginalize my people. It insults my intelligence, and makes me write these terribly long passages that cause everyone so much concern.
I’ve also been asked to see all the beauty that surrounds me, to not give up on the wonders of everyday life. It’s been said that all of life isn’t one big storm cloud.
I agree.
My life is one of the best around; or at least I’d like to argue. I have two wonderful families. I have a wonderful boyfriend and a quirky feline companion. I have kind, considerate, and compassionate friends. I have plans for the future. I have been blessed with more opportunities than I can count. I am well provided for. I have people watching over me.
Life hasn’t always been that way though. During the dark times, feeling was something foreign, a non-issue even. Pain, suffering, anguish, hurt, pleasure, passion, love, happiness, and even joy…they did not exist for a period much longer than seems possible in looking back today. And that is where the thoughts of today rise.
I debated long and hard before sitting down in hopes of expressing my hurt and anguish. Was it appropriate, could I be sincere and honest? I believe I was. So often in this life, I have taken horrible occurrences and brushed them off, but for once I had to feel it. I had to allow the hurt and pain and torture to overcome me and then flow out in order to return to a state of grace.
I had hoped those that read what I had to say would have found the glimmers of hope, the call to action, the pleas to not forget the ones that are most affected by what has happened, our children. Perhaps though, it all got lost in the storm of emotion.
The clouds are clearing. Come walking with me, in the light of the new day.
posted by Jake at 12:00 AM
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