Everyone's a poser (not just me)
So for anyone who has been following along this has been kind of sort of like the summer of love for me, only more like the opposite in a lot of ways. But not really totally opposite like the summer of hate or anything, it's more like the summer of un-love, or the winter of my discontent, only it's summer so you can't really say that either. Which is perfectly fine with me, as I am usually out of sync with a lot of things, so not being personified by overquotes and fancy sayings is a-okay in my book. I don't need a pillow sampler made by Quaker women to spell out one of those rare and glorious times in life when you purposely nail all of the doors shut just so you can say you have no choice but to open a window and jump out. We've all been there. I'm quite certain that many others have walked this path before me. Probably.
Just a quick recap for those that HAVEN'T had the time, patience, court order or blood ties that would allow and/or require you to read each and every word of each and every blog post. In the past fifteen days I have:
Me: But why does that make me a poser?
Other Person: Because you can't just be a cheerleader one minute and then decide you're a punk rocker the next. Or that you're suddenly black. Or Spanish. You really need to just pick something. And be it.
Me: Of course I can. I can be anything I want to be. Grover taught me that. Like thrity-seven years ago.
Other person: <sigh>
And it's true. Sesame Street fucked with my head in many, many ways but the biggest was to instill in me that if you can dream it it you can do it, be it . Or buy it (or something like that). And I'm just gonna stand up and call it. You're not a poser if you're doing what's in your heart. If you believe you're a punk rocker, then you're a punk rocker. It really doesn't matter that you were a cheerleader yesterday or even this morning and that tomorrow you're going to be a gangsta and the day after that something you haven't even heard of yet. If the shoe its. Right?
There are plenty of rulebooks out there for what people should do with their words, their hands, their bodies. But no one can tell you what to do with your heart. Or your mind. And like they say, those things want the crap that they want. There have been times in my life when I was definitely posing by pretending to be someone or something I wasn't. Like wearing a dress or necklace I didn't like just because it was a gift. Or by dancing with someone who sucked at dancing because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. Or by marrying someone I didn't love not even for one second just because I thought it was what everyone else wanted me to do. I know what it feels like to be a poser. And honey, this just ain't it.
So what if yesterday I was a girlfriend, a fiancée, a suburbanite douchebag. Today I am a poet, a writer, an artist. A freak desperately looking for a tiny hovel to live in by the sea. I am and always have been...me.And I will not pose for anyone else every again. Evah.
Just a quick recap for those that HAVEN'T had the time, patience, court order or blood ties that would allow and/or require you to read each and every word of each and every blog post. In the past fifteen days I have:
- reinvented the sex tourism industry
- identified a whole new way of looking at aging and celebrating birthdays
- freaked out about patriotism two weeks too late for the Fourth of July
- left my boyfriend of nine years on a whim while sitting in a bar and drinking a margarita
- learned that monogamy no longer exists
- And, what this post is really about, running away from home and moving to the beach so I can get in touch with my REAL inner crazy and write some shit that may or may not make small town New England folk consider bringing back witch burning as a past time.
Me: But why does that make me a poser?
Other Person: Because you can't just be a cheerleader one minute and then decide you're a punk rocker the next. Or that you're suddenly black. Or Spanish. You really need to just pick something. And be it.
Me: Of course I can. I can be anything I want to be. Grover taught me that. Like thrity-seven years ago.
Other person: <sigh>
And it's true. Sesame Street fucked with my head in many, many ways but the biggest was to instill in me that if you can dream it it you can do it, be it . Or buy it (or something like that). And I'm just gonna stand up and call it. You're not a poser if you're doing what's in your heart. If you believe you're a punk rocker, then you're a punk rocker. It really doesn't matter that you were a cheerleader yesterday or even this morning and that tomorrow you're going to be a gangsta and the day after that something you haven't even heard of yet. If the shoe its. Right?
There are plenty of rulebooks out there for what people should do with their words, their hands, their bodies. But no one can tell you what to do with your heart. Or your mind. And like they say, those things want the crap that they want. There have been times in my life when I was definitely posing by pretending to be someone or something I wasn't. Like wearing a dress or necklace I didn't like just because it was a gift. Or by dancing with someone who sucked at dancing because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. Or by marrying someone I didn't love not even for one second just because I thought it was what everyone else wanted me to do. I know what it feels like to be a poser. And honey, this just ain't it.
So what if yesterday I was a girlfriend, a fiancée, a suburbanite douchebag. Today I am a poet, a writer, an artist. A freak desperately looking for a tiny hovel to live in by the sea. I am and always have been...me.
Keep posing in pictures where it belongs.
Posted by Jennifer at 7/31/2010 8:54 AM 
Categories: Self improvement, Better to fuck up your own life rather than have someone else do it for you, Mostly true stories
Tags: What a tangled web we weave
Categories: Self improvement, Better to fuck up your own life rather than have someone else do it for you, Mostly true stories
Tags: What a tangled web we weave
Comments