Well, this and more, but i should start by pathetically, albeit confidently claiming that someone has tapped into my dome. It's that, or what I read seems so right, to the point where it has been my own and it will be my own. That's where it becomes a straight shot of Bacardi 151 sized encouragement. To feel like a direct line is tapped into another persons ambitious intelligence feels good, and because of that, i'm not offended. I have always and always will root for him. He will go unnamed, but if you keep up on me enough, i'm pretty sure you'll know who and what I infer.
To comment directly on his coattails, it's really all about us.
It's not about the strength an individual has in their weakness. It's not about living as to hide that weakness. But it is about this.
It's about a young girl from Louisiana who dreams of people knowing her name. It's about her ambitious attempt to rise above and around her obstacles that are as follows; an alcoholic abusive dad who can't stand her mom, a mom who can't stand imagining her daughter not making her a buck, a childhood that consists of make-up and dresses instead of making cakes and dressing dolls. It's about that same girl who gets off on the reaction, which when elicited, only is attractive to a bigger reaction. This is about her children who grow up being chased by countless vultures, Canon's in hand, to turn a buck. It's about her.
It's about a man who's heart is broken after letting his heart break for someone. It's about his idea of the ideal, that hopefully one day he'll find that the ideal should be his idea of the ideal and not someone else's.
It's about the guy behind these words, who knows that when he finally gives himself a chance to try something right, he'll be able to feel absolutely satisfied. In that satisfaction he knows that the reader will believe, and as an effect, the mother will believe, and the brother, and the father, and the barista at Starbucks who hears something good while at work in San Dimo CA, and unfurl, reality to the world. It's about his confidence that keeps him in check from cockiness. Believe him, trust him, but challenge him.
It's about the girl who never fits the mold, and never finds the gold, cause silver seems good enough. (It's not bad to quote yourself) This is about simple math: take the self out, and you have pure and mighty consciousness. When adding the self back into the equation, it makes things "toxic", something this generation really buys into.
And so to that i say live love. Find a book you'll never, ever, read again and turn to page 45. Rock the boat. Take a trip down memory lane, only to create something the future needs. We need you, he needs you, mom needs you, your sister needs you. Run. Sit in an empty place and write. Tell yourself you will care more. And like my mentor said first:
root for someone else.
And overall, be sad when your sad, be pumped when you're filled with excitement, and smile when someone makes your heart beat a little faster. Try wearing your heart on your sleeve.
Real rubs off fast and hard. I'd love for this to be the final equation of our generation:
(self-consciousness/self-consciousness) + real = love + (consciousness/consciousness)
facilitate that.
much love,
SL
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