If you wanted to ask me what my reason for sticking around this life was, I
would have several answers.
The most obvious would be, my baby girl. She is my joy and my passion.
She is the most incredible thing that ever happened to me. I live for her
smile, and her giggle (or growl, as it usually comes out when she's
tickled), and her love bites. She is the epitome of hope - the whole
future is ahead for her. She can do anything with it - go to college, drop
out, make good money, stay dirt poor, meet prince charming, meet an
asshole, be happy, be miserable - it's all ahead of her. The sky's the
limit. Maybe I regret some things in my life, but she has no regrets yet.
She doesn't even comprehend the concept of regret. And somehow, she helps
me take life with the same hope and simplicity.
Then, there's my boyfriend - the relationship that should never have
worked. The person who was once my downfall and my misery, and has now
become my sanity. The person who knows me better than anyone else and
won't let me bullshit myself. The person who keeps me from stagnating in
my own little dream world, and makes me get up and explore new things, even
things that I don't like. He is yin to my yang (or is it the other way
around?) Like me, and yet opposite. I have grown and expanded in the 3
years I have known him in ways I had never dreamed. Even the pain at the
beginning ended up benefitting me in ways I didn't forsee. And I am his
sanity as well. I know he needs me as much as I need him. We keep each
other going through the endless grind of the week - always hoping together
that it won't always have to be this way.
But even if my child and my boyfriend were wiped off the face of the
planet, I would still have reason to continue. Life itself is such a
fascinating thing. One would think my life rather unfascinating - split as
it is between work at a factory and raising a baby. What could be more
mundane than putting ball bearings together and changing diapers. And life
has even been painful - horribly painful at times. Many of you know some
of the shit I've wallowed through in the past couple of years. But deep
inside, no matter how horrible it got, there was always the spark of
something that was interested in life - no matter what it brought. I'm
grasping for words to describe the feeling - how this little piece of me
breaks off from the boredom or pain of the moment and says, "hey, this is
cool! This is my life and it is significant!"
I don't have to be a millionaire to enjoy life. I don't have to be
ravishingly beautiful. I don't have to be surrounded by perfect people, to
have tons of energy, to have a talent that makes people sit up and notice.
There's a saying going through my head - it may be from my days of
Christian training, but it still rings true - "Don't despise the day of
small things." My life might be described by many to be a life of small
things.
But does something have to be big to be enjoyed? Does it have to be
spectacular? Does it have to be popularly recognized as significant or
noteworthy? Not to me. I find my reason for living in the glint of light
off a highly polished bearing. In the beauty of an elderly face working at
the next table over - ugly to some, but yet to one who will see it,
possessing a subtle loveliness that satisfies more than the flawless face
of a supermodel.
I find reason to live in the joy of raiding bubblegum machines for cheap
plastic toys and stickers. I find reason to live in walking barefoot down
the rough sidewalk to a friend's house, not caring if the winter's gravel
hurts my feet. I find joy in packing the diaper bag, so my baby can go on
a rare trip to the baby-sitters, and my boyfriend and I can enjoy a quiet
day by ourselves - to think of anything that could possibly be needed,
gather it from all corners of my home, and try to fit it all into a small
but efficient bag, and the satisfaction that comes from zipping the last
zipper with everything safe inside.
I believe that no one who cannot appreciate the little, mundane things of
life can possibly say they love life. They only love what life can bring,
if they are lucky. Those who depend on a certain relationship, a certain
possession, or a certain activity, will only become miserable if that
necessary thing is taken away. The athlete whose whole life is his sport
will die inside if he becomes injured and cannot play anymore. The singer
who depends on music for happiness, loses happiness when she loses her
voice. But the person who can find fine architecture in a slum, mental
stimulation in a repetitive job, and fascinating conversation with a moron,
is possessed with the gift called the love of life, and the adding or
subtraction of luxuries or abilities will make no lasting mark on their
happiness.
This is the real reason why I stay alive - because there is worth and
beauty in every painful, exhausting inch of it. I stay alive for life
itself.
____________________ "You can tell by the scars on my arms and the cracks in my hips and the
dents in my car and the blisters on my lips that I'm not the carefullest of
girls." - Dresden Dolls, "Girl Anachronism"
Starlight
Extreme Fanatic
Posts: 618 Registered: 27/9/2002 Status: Offline
posted on 27/5/2003 at 11:55 PM
I'm just too stubborn to die...yep that's it I think.
That and I love watching all the stupid people and their antics.
____________________ "When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never
tried before." ~Mae West
Anonymous
Posts: 116 Registered: 14/4/2002 Status: Offline
posted on 28/5/2003 at 07:55 AM
Life is hopeless. Same shit everyday. Same dumbass people cutting me off in
traffic. Same people breeding to a set of kids that will later steal from
my house.
Maybe I should quit analyzing so much.
Merry_Widow
Fanatic
Posts: 598 Registered: 24/8/2002 Status: Offline
posted on 28/5/2003 at 03:04 PM
I live to tell all the people who complain about their horrible lives and
routines and ruts to just do the rest of the world a favor and just off
thmeselves. If life is really as terrible as they make it out to be, then
they should have no problems taking a razor to a few choice body parts.
I live because I enjoy it. That's all there is to it.
____________________ Okay, dazzle me.
Dolorosa
Extreme Fanatic
Posts: 856 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
posted on 29/5/2003 at 12:27 AM
Your such a sweetheart MW.
Personally, I think the meaning of life is laughter...at least after
returning from a period of introspection. Laughter both malicious and
sublime. Revenge is a good one, but seriously, is it any good if you can't
finish it off with that maniacal darksome laugh at the end? Life's a joke,
we're the punchline, and I intend to laugh my fool head off until the end.
It's pretty fun too...I mean shit, watch the news, theres some seriously
weird and hilarious crap going on in the world.
I'd laugh with people, if laughing at them wasn't so much more fun ya'
know?
____________________ In the valley of the Goats, the Goat Fucker is King
Anonymous
Posts: 116 Registered: 14/4/2002 Status: Offline
posted on 2/6/2003 at 08:19 AM
No doubt I would MW, if I wasn't such a pussy....
MystryssRavynDarque
Extreme Fanatic
Posts: 648 Registered: 24/9/2002 Status: Offline
posted on 2/6/2003 at 08:56 AM
Plus there is so much I have yet to eat, do, or see.... Someday I will say
to life though "It's been swell, but the swellings gone down."
____________________ "People always say what we are looking for is a meaning for life…I don't
think that's what we're looking for. I think what we're looking for is the
experience of being alive." -Joseph Campbell
Well, anonymous, at least you've come to grips with that.
You know what? People cut me off in traffic too. Every goddamned day. It
doesn't make me hate life, it makes me hate the individuals in the cars
that make me angry. So I either let them pass and give them the finger
(halfway passive) or I do the same shit to them that they are doing to me
and give them a lesson in roadway bitchmaking 101. Then I go on with my
life.
When I see people with kids that you KNOW are going to turn out to be
troublemakers...eh, I don't even know if they live near me, and I sleep
with a baseball bat and a big scary man that cherishes his privacy. They
can breed as many rotten kids as they want. We can handle 'em.
I'm no fishing for sympathy here, with what I"m going to tell you, but
merely making a very hard point.
I've had more bad shit happen in the last 8 months than most people know.
My husband was hospitalised with a collapsed lung, the people at his job
never submitted his insurance, he was bedridden for almost a MONTH after he
was released from the hospital, still in a lot of pain and having to see a
doctor that wouldn't listen to him or me (about the pain in his chest
resulting from the procedure they did to try to keep his lung from going
down for a fourth time. In essence, the doctor fucked him up.) , then when
he returned to work he was fired on the spot on drug charges (which is
bullshit) without a drug test or an opportunity to defend himself. He'd
worked there for 5 years. Oh, by the way, these accusations were made by
DRUG ADDICTS, THE most trustworthy people on the face of the fucking earth.
Oh, by the way again, one was his OWN SISTER. Yup, his flesh and blood
threw him into the fire to try to save her own skin. That's family for
you. Then we find out about his insurance, and spent two months back and
forth with the federal labor board to muscle the corp cocksuckers into
giving him what was rightfully his. They disputed his unemployment claim,
took him a full month to collect what was equal to a third of his income,
and then spend the next two months searching for a job in a dismal economy.
It ruined our halloween, our thanksgiving plans, our "christmas", and our
new years, and almost totally ruined our lives. His sister's actions tore
a massive hole in his family, it pushed both of us to the positive breaking
point, and brought the realisation that everything you work so hard for can
be literally stripped away by one jealous, stupid, pillpopping, lying and
conniving person, and that we have no rights. That was especially
difficult to discover and come to terms with. Several times we just didn't
want to keep going, it seemed pointless, futile, and exhausting. But if
we'd quit then we'd have let them win, and I refuse to let ANYONE dance on
our graves. It's called pride and responsibility to the self.
It's simple really. Take control of you life. Life isn't supposed to be
easy. Life rarely is. That is what makes it so interesting. I've learned
a LOT in the last year. Things I wish I didn't know. But I'm better off
and better prepared for having to go through it. We had become
comfortable, spoiled even, before that. We just didn't know it. You never
know just how good you have it until you have the absolute worst to compare
it to. If it can go wrong it will, as the all ending laws state it, but
that doesn't mean it's hopeless, it just means to quit crying, pull your
pants up, ice down that black eye and trudge through. Sometimes you have
to hit the bottom before you realise there's a light at the top, and a
rope. You can hang yourself with it or you can climb your ass out. It's
all up to you.
____________________ Trapped in time. Surrounded by evil. Low on gas.
Merry_Widow
Fanatic
Posts: 598 Registered: 24/8/2002 Status: Offline
posted on 2/6/2003 at 08:24 PM
Everytime I think that shit sucks, I look back on everything I have already
pulled my ass through. There has been a rather healthy amount of bullshit
to haul through, and I'm still knee deep in it. But it would seem pretty
stupid to quit now, you know? Beyond the day to day annoyances, there is
some serious crap that I have made it through. Why stop now? I'm having
much too much fun.
And Bettie, you never, ever cease to amaze me. I can't express how much
respect I have for you. No shit. You rule. Captain Morgan and I salute you.
____________________ Okay, dazzle me.
Dolorosa
Extreme Fanatic
Posts: 856 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
posted on 3/6/2003 at 01:31 AM
Knee-deep is a way of life...
::Salutes Bettie:: Without question...
Pain, suffering, crap, lies, sorrow, elation, joy, mirth and
malice...without these things, I honestly think life would be fucking
boring...
Who wants to romp around a field of fuckin' flowers and butterflies
forever anyhow...for awhile maybe yeah, but shit.
It sucks and all yeah...but it makes the good stuff that much better I
suppose...
Then again...maybe that field would be fun...fuck, I dunno'...::drink
drink drink:: And right now, I'm far from caring...yeeee!
____________________ In the valley of the Goats, the Goat Fucker is King
Thanks guys, but when it comes down to it, tho michael really got the short
end of the stick. HIS lung collapse, HE had to deal with those nurses and
the pain, HE was the subject of having his good word and pride stomped on,
I would dare say it's almost as hard to have to watch someone you love go
through that. On his third week of bedrest he was trying so hard to be up
and around, he even tried vaccuuming but couldn't, and he was so upset
because he didn't want me to resent him, for me to feel like his nurse,
caretaker, and mother than his wife (which of course I didn't). It was
equally hard not to call Pat Hanlin (CEO of the cocksucking company that
did this to him) and give him a good, hard, sharp piece of what I thought
of him, his flunkies known as "upper management", and his company. We had
a balance, michael and I. He kept me out of jail, and I kept him
comfortable and happy as I could. IN essence we made the best out of all
the shit life had flung at us so fast and furious. We joked about our xmas
"tree" that didn't exist, citing emmett otter's "christmas log" and used
some of my bonus money to drink our way through the new year,and we used
left over champaigne from our wedding for new year's eve. All and all we
just truged through, because there was no other option. That's what you do
with life, you just DO it. It's okay to cry, it's okay to be very angry,
it's okay to just lose it once in a while, but eventually you're gonna have
to get off your ass and start over.
And like I said before, you don't know how good you have it until you don't
have it good anymore. It's like stupid people. If they didn't exist you
wouldn't realise you're smart. If something didn't taste gross you
wouldn't know how good everything else tastes. If you don't suffer once in
a while you can't fully understand happiness. They would be cheap
experiences, all taken for granted, never thought of, nothing would be
strived for because you'd be comatose in unrecognised and unappreciated
idiot bliss.
____________________ Trapped in time. Surrounded by evil. Low on gas.