they say these are the best days, when the formative take their form. they say that something clicks in to place, feuding forces startled to discover they could (could have always) coexist at ease, and with pleasure. they say one’s place (her perch) is now its most sturdy, vantage point clear and wide. they say a lot of things, these pervasive time-worn colloquiums. but in their collective they weave a wisdom that remains (or so it seems, despite erratic escapades of change) somehow the truth. after all.
it was the morning of our birthday, through the foggy fury of our hangover, bleary cat-eyed puppy-loved awakening, our blindingly bright space blinking into place. as we looked around, took in the life we live through a new set of eyes (and yesterday’s contacts) we began to laugh. full-belly, full-body, all-encompassing, a furious force.
it lay sprawled on the ground before us, unearthed by the light, the twists of fate and time that had brought us to this morning. no other place we could be. the truth. if we’d known who we were, the life we would be living (how extraordinary a departure from expectation) once we were to come into our (quote) adulthood, we could sure as hell have enjoyed ourself some more. worried a bit less. taken life a lot less fucking seriously.
are there things we wish we’d known, letters to our younger self we wish we could purpose to pilot through the shitstorms? hells yes. we’d swear on sunscreen, start face oils five years ago. rap our knuckles at fast fashion. save our bartending fortune. we’d insist we considered our creative self long ago, explored new mediums, never quit the damn piano. we’d silence any sort of shyness, impart the point of speaking out and standing up and living different and out loud over any sort of assimilation. any kinda herd. we’d say to trust no one but your truth: inner voice the only dogma. we’d shut the door on dysnfunction, run from those who run from things, fuck the fools who’d fool us twice. you know, the usual. but most of all, we’d just say breathe. and come what may man. it’s just like a swing, a pendulum, ups an downs cradled within one’s own velocity. the harder you ride, the higher you rise.