Wow… first written blog in a while. Got all fabulous on the VLOGs and forgot I was supposed to be an actual writer. Hah.
I read a comic today. I have Mark Brassington to thank for the recommendation. He is truly an inspiration – on writing, life – the list is endless. But I think the trait I can commend him on today is friendship. He recommended that I read Polarity, thinking I would “like it”, and as it would end up that is a serious understatement. I loved it, I devoured it, I resonated with it. I didn’t realize the effect its few pages could have on me – of course you don’t expect that with any great piece, no matter how many books you have read – and I just, I’m so glad that I have friends who truly know me and understand me enough to share something so beautiful such as things like this that have the ability to touch our very souls.
“It seems that after my bout with dementia and paranoia, I have an annoying ability to see through my peers. Past the vintage dresses and ironic ’90s era attire and into the epicenters of their desperate souls, as they cry out with a grating, banshee-like plea for validation.”
… I feel like this. ALL THE TIME.
In my case, I don’t feel it an annoying personality setback or regret it in any way. It is part of me, to walk in a room and just… see. I truly believe in owning who you are and if something makes you unhappy, change it. I am not unhappy nor do I have any regrets. There are learning lessons, yes, but that is all part of life isn’t it?
I have an appointment with my tattoo artist this evening. (I hope my dad isn’t reading this. He does frequent this blog often and doesn’t approve of the existing or any future tattoos I may have. Love you pops.) I’m having “love is enough” tattooed on my arm. When a very close friend got wind of my plans, he asked me why I would get that, of all things, tattooed on my arm for everyone to see. Not because he doesn’t understand why I want to do it or because he doesn’t understand me. It’s because he wanted to hear my explanation of why. Because he enjoys getting inside my head and knows his ability to get a rise out of me. These are the kinds of friends I keep – the one’s that can actually see you for who you are, without ever having to ask. I don’t have a lot of them – friends that would do anything for me at any time – but the size of your clique is just a number. The depth of your connection with someone – be it a friend, family member, or your cat – is something else entirely.
He said to me, “Lu (nickname), why would you get ‘love is enough’ tattooed on your fucking arm? You are newly divorced, with a mother who has never given a shit about you, and your grandfather is fucking dying. Love is not enough. Your entire existence is proof that love is never enough.”
Love is not marriage. Marriage is a fucking piece of paper. Love is not sacrificing oneself and one’s beliefs and morals to make someone else happy. Love is not personal negativity because the first ten years of your life were not as supportive, loving, and beautiful as the cute little boy’s next door. Love is understanding the requirement to love one self before you can love someone else. Love is about human connection. Human connection with a real person. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life with this person – you don’t have to hold their hand, kiss them, marry them – any of that. The connection, whatever it may be, is what’s important. You should be able to be yourself with this person – not the preconceived notion of who ‘yourself’ is, either. Not the ‘yourself’ society wants you to be. The ‘yourself’ you want to be. And that person, or people – your friends, your loved ones – will respect you because it’s who you truly are. And if they don’t, you’re hanging out with the wrong fucking people. You should be able to call one of your closest friends at 4:00 in the morning because you need a ride two hours from their house, and know, that they will be there, or they will send someone trustworthy that can be there. I’ve talked to certain people who think this is too much to ask and that’s because they haven’t experienced that deep human connection. It is not too much to ask. I would do it. My five best friends would do it. I have done it, they have. It’s exactly how it should be.
All of my friends are unique and different and each of them wants to be more like the other, because they are themselves, and have the ability to recognize personal growth and inner beauty and kindness and a positive attitude towards every aspect of life. This is love. Connection. Love is the passion Macklemore has towards the gay community, not because he is gay himself, but because he is strong and independent enough in his own skin to open himself up to another way of life and connect with people. Love is stopping to observe. Love is telling someone, I think you’re an amazing person, and I think you’re unhappy. I don’t think you know how amazing and beautiful you really are, and I’m here for you. I swear to God I’m here for you. I love you, and I will fight for you. I will fight for your survival as a human being. Love is consciously erasing the fear of judgement to open up your soul and expressing how you really feel towards a single person, idea, or the entire world.
My friend shook his head at me in disbelief. “You really don’t think like everyone else, do you? You’ve got so much going on up there-” he tapped my forehead- “I don’t think you realize how special you are.”
I can’t afford to think like everyone else. Where would I be if I did? I don’t even know. Not sitting in front of a computer, bleeding, not successful, not the happiest person I have ever been in my entire life. Fuck that.
Love is enough. Love yourself. Love everyone else. And if you don’t, if you can’t – change. It’s not hard and it’s not fucking scary. It’s enlightening. It’s beautiful. You are beautiful. When you realize that, the most amazing souls on this earth will notice and jump off a fucking cliff just to be near you. I’m serious. Life is beautiful. Do not fucking waste it.