Let’s Yell at Each Other (Scared to be Weird): 500 Words a Day – Day 18
How are some of you on day 19 already? I’m calling the authorities.
I was having a lonely sadfest last night and then passed out. I woke up in the morning and couldn’t remember where I was. When I wake up I have to talk myself into the days before being real, doesn’t matter if they were good or bad but when I wake up every morning it is more like a reincarnation than something more reliable. I have to string memories back together to determine how to feel and what to do with myself.
Was yesterday sad? Yes.
Ok, so am I sad today? Yes.
Ok. I’m sad.
And the day happens accordingly.
The same goes on the joy end of the spectrum. Thinking backwards to live forwards
This morning I was so disoriented, mostly because of residual jet lag, that I literally did not know what I did for a living. Thankfully, I had an alarm set for a contemp dance class, the same one S Clark describe in her post yesterday, and we again performed the exercises of jumping as high as we could while SCREAMING “I’m going down!” Or falling to the ground and saying, “We’re going up!” After a few minutes, when we all officially lost our minds, we started yelling these things at each other as we passed on the floor and I thought, “My god, we really are all fucking nuts.” Teacher Anne said, “You have to lose your mind to find your senses.” I pictured a black woman saying, “Mmmhmm” with her hand over her head and her eyes bowing towards the floor when the words hit my ears.
We’re all fucked into some ridiculously sad version of a life when really we should be yelling in each other’s faces and pretend puking on one another. That is more real than, “Hi, how are you today?” I DON’T FUCKING KNOW YOU WHORE. After class I realized I can make up whatever the eff story I want when I wake up in the morning. I can say, “Today I am performing a heart transplant on a baby pig.” I can even buy the tools and go to the hog store. (Do they have those?) I just learned that when you use parenthesis after a complete sentence then the punctuation goes inside the ). I was determined to exercise that knowledge today. Anyways, I could go to the hog store and say, “I’m Dr. Animal Philips and I’m here to operate on that feller over there.” Or I could try to sell ice cream to strangers on my block.
When we walk into work, if we hate our jobs, we shouldn’t say, “I’m going to work,” we should say, “I’m going to fucking hell!”
It’s so hard to be weird publicly. It requires a truly skilled facilitator. Someone to get it started and then once the fear is overridden by complete human madness that person can slip away into the background. I want this. But I know that if one of you came up to me on the street and yelled in my face, “I’m going up!!!!” while falling on the cement I would look around and feel the tight choke of caring about what other people think.
I want to live freely. I want to have uncomfortably sick conversations that reflect my real thoughts. But I’m scared, so when you yell at me, will you keep yelling until that moment passes and I can join you?
