Stove is on, fridge is wobbly and he had love.

Some asshole once told me all the answers you could ever ask for are found in a connection between the mind and the heart. It was a long time ago and I'm probably not remembering the words exactly but it's been on my mind lately. Some other asshole once told me no one would ever love me, this has been on my mind lately too. The thing about broken people is they can't be fixed like a tangible object. You can't pick a person up rebuild them and send them on their way, healing a heart, a mind, a person, doesn't happen overnight. You can't just hand them a bandaid and say "all better, now go play!", there is no magic bandaid, no specified cure for a broken person and no two broken people are broken the same exact way. What broke me was a fear i'd never get away from the asshole who said no one would love me. That fear paralyzed me in ways only someone who's been there might truly understand. It's disappointing to me how long I've let that fear combined with those words keep me paralyzed. I've been loved my whole life and I never really believed no one would love me, but for me its something similiar to thinking you left the stove on when you know you didn't. It lingers. You know its utter bullshit but that doesn't make it hurt any less and you still find yourself wondering when that day will come where someone, anyone, will come along and reassure you of just how bullshit it is. As we get older it becomes more important that someone love us. Not in the way family or friends love us but in the way a partner, a combination friend, family and lover, loves us. No matter how broken we get along the way people need to be loved in that way, frightening as it may be to admit for some of us, no one wants to wake up alone, wondering if they left the stove on.

Some people never make the choice to move past broken. Others spend years meticulously rebuilding but choose to stay in a constant loop of prerecorded self loathing, self pity and self doubt. Some put blinders on to reality and replay the events leading up to their ultimate breaking, over and over, hoping somehow, this time things will go according to plan. Some realize these attempts or lack of attempts to heal are not working and some don't, but everyone gets where they're going based on their own fuel. For some its fast, for others its slow and for a sad handful healing never comes at all. Your heart is a muscle so full of attachments and functions that even the tiniest break can change the functionality of your entire body so why would a broken heart of the figuritive sense be any less powerful? When people have heart attacks they're told to take it easy, change their lifestyle, make healthier choices.Many times following this advice makes all the difference and sometimes it makes no difference at all. Occasionally some crazy fucker keeps boozin and druggin and lives far past his prime even after a heart attack, occasionally a perfectly healthy person drops dead in the middle of their morning run. Either way life doesn't just hand us what we want because we want it.

Our spirits, our hearts, our broken, none of it heals because we ask it nicely. We don't wake up one day, our past erased our scars all gone. Our scars make us who we are but if we never let our wounds heal we'll always be broken. For some people the urge to pick the scabs and keep the wounds open is just too much. Some of these people never heal, some of these people eventually find eachother, wrap eachothers wounds, heal together and live something like happily ever after. There are some though that just want to be loved. These people will find someone broken something like what broke them to begin with and they will let them rip open the wounds because some where along the way some asshole warped their idea of love and even if it hurts, open wounds are what they know of love.

People settle for less than what they deserve all the time in life and the less likely a person thinks it is that someone could love them, the more crazy they're willing to let in their life. No one wants to wake up alone forever and for many people there comes a decision to trade sane decisions and independence for some one to go home to and say they love you. It's part of being human. Some of us survive very similiar events and walk away with completely different needs. Some of us heal slower than slow but eventually we stop picking the scabs and actually heal. Some of us just want to be loved and some of us want to heal and be loved. I prefer my scars to scabs, but not everyone is like me.

*** Mothadear***I believe she just wanted to be loved. I believe in his own broken way he loved her. I also believe sometimes this is all anyone has to have over anyone else to keep them where they are. ~ Life is what happens while we're making other plans.- John Lennon

Barbies and ducklings...

Pen and paper what an original thought, I started writing this on good old paper with a shiny black pen. The problem with pen and paper is like so many things in this world today, no one REALLY uses them anymore. Earlier this evening as I sat in my grey cubicle in my grey work environment, I wondered if other people feel like I do when they sit down to their cubicles full of germs and proceed to be someone else for 8 hours a day. Do they look at the people around them and think : How many of these people actually are who they wanted to be? Do they conclude each time, as I do, that in a room of 100 maybe 10 are actually happy and that those ten are only happy because they became part of the machine too long ago to remember who they wanted to be. Does anyone else wonder what the other 89 people are doing there?


On day one of this particular journey one of the 10 made the statement "You can always change who you are! So why not change?". With energy and true belief in what they were saying this person made this statement and had it not been in reference to using fake empathy and keeping a smile in your voice when answering a phone it might have been inspiring, refreshing even. In the context it was used it only made me sad to think that anyone could feel pretending to be glad someone called to pay a bill or sorry they we're having trouble with anything, was a good way to keep people happy. Realistically its just another way to keep people in their place. Not so much the smile in your voice crap, but the false empathy is a tactic that makes me vommit a little in my mouth each time I hear it, pretty much anywhere in life. In the context it was made this statement of change made me want to get up and run fast and far for something, anything a little more real and a little less bullshit, if only the bills paid themselves.

Apply this "Why not change" thought process to other things in our lives and suddenly we are the 8 hours a day we spend in someone elses crockpot. Suddenly we're all exactly the same, on the outside atleast and what good does it do any one of us if we all appear the same? This in itself spawns an entirely new dilema for me. If we all changed into the people we wanted to be, would we really be any happier? If the supermodel and the entrepreuner, the writer/worldtraveler and the dad and family man, ever became these people they so desperately wanted or claimed or wanted and claimed to be , what then? Would they be any fucking happier?

We've become a "why not change" society and this is not a bad thing. Unless you never do it for yourself, unless each change you make is to please the picture other people give you of yourself. Life has no easy fixes, no amount of money can buy you the life you wanted, nothing worth having comes just because you want it to and no one sticks around to watch the toilet flush a good life away. People pop pills to change their brains, their bodies their lives. People make drastic and permanent changes to their outsides. Quickly and quietly they "perfect" their imperfections and move further from who they were born and closer to who they are told by some voice in their head or some dozen voices in some magazine to become. Be thin, be feminine, be blonde, be brunette, have hair, have none, be masculine, be built, be tough! What the hell ever happened to just being yourself? Whatever happened to mind body and soul all working together and keeping us in our place as we were born to be? Not everyone was meant to be the people we're becoming as a society and where did our feet get off to because the ground seems so far from where these quick fixes and vane changes are taking us. While we're all so busy looking at the pretty pictures of who we could be, I wonder if anyone remembers who they ever wanted to be. I also wonder if we don't need to become who we wanted to be more than who they want us to be. If only to keep nature from crumbling from sheer lack of use.

I'm wondering how healthy it could be to change who you are, just because you can. After years of running fast and far from who I am just because it reminded me of who I was, I can't help but think who I want to be is exactly who I need to be. No amount of money or debt, pain or pleasure, love or loss can take away the picture of me I've found. Wherever I'm going, I'll get there eventually and it will be fucking beautiful, I will be fucking beautiful. I wonder will anyone else be there.