"Dude I got like a stern glare from like three cops!" squeaks some curly haired frat boy.
Oh no not the stern glare!
It's becoming clear that I'm getting too old for partying.
Already becoming the weird loner who looks through a strangers album covers on the couch alone when people are playing a very rowdy game of harsh beer pong in the next room.
It's funny but I'm just kind of satiracal when I go to house partys.
I mean it ridiculous how once the call out of "COPS" used to have me running and giggling with fear and excitment like I was being bad and getting away with it. Like I was really rebellious, I mean I've had like 1 1/2 beers yo!
Now as I see the underage pipsqueak flee from the scene like an overturned hive, I pull out a cigarette and smoke it on the side street. In fact when I'm around cops at these times, I'm more scared of how badly I want to either finger em or moon em. Maybe both? I mean whats more awesome than out running a cop during the Donald duck half waddle as you pull your pants back up.
"Dude I was so looking forward to getting my dick wet tonight." Veronica loudly laments on the bus ride home. I half choke, half snort. I think even granny in the back heard that one
She's like me. Blunt to point of unnerving. Well at least to anyone who isn't like us.
She just recently broke up with her boyfriend Spencer, who from what little I knew about him, could figure he was a pussy. Straight up-
"I don't feel like coming out to see you because my mom won't drive me," type of shit guy. Granted he's only 18, so I guess it's in the realm of normalcy or he can get a way with it pass, but still-
ever heard of public transit limpdick?
Poor girl knew her bus stops. Riding out all the way from Vancouver to Shit- i mean Pitt Meadows all the time to see him.
What gets me is he broke up with her.
I mean seriously?
Really?
This beautiful, smart, intelligent, frothy little soul who has so much to offer the world, and he breaks up with her?
And his reason- she didn't dress up enough from him.
Fucking serious.
I want to pound this guy until he's compacted into a frisbee shaped form which I will then throw at pigeons. And then feel more sorry for the pigeons.
"That why you gotta meet real morning after people. I mean you're going meet lots of party people and have crazy fun times and all that krap but then the next day you'll never hear from them again. It's the morning after-wanna-go-get-brunch-or just-chill-at-the beach type of people that are your real friends. The ones that actually last anyways. I mean that's something you'll learn."
She just bobs her head.
I feel old, like I'm preaching.
"I'm sorry I talk like this to you sometimes, it's just I've gone through alot of lame shit and I only want you to experience the good stuff."
She shakes her head, "No! No, man seriously. I like to listen."
I smile. I feel like for once what it must be like to be an older sibling. It feels nice to look out for someone. Have someone who depends on you.
"I just don't know how to meet cool people though."
"Well you're doing it. Visiting unfamiliar house parties. Or like Homeshake. Going to cool indie concerts. I mean if anything you'll have something in common right away.
"Yeah cause you both like the same music. That's a good way of putting it."
I like this girl. She's a smartie. No need to explain. We're both all about the music feels.
As in "if you wanna get with me, get with my music taste." Or at least share
some of it.
I mean I'm almost so bias about that, like if you're not into the type of music I listen to, I'm like I don't really like you anymore.
Some say that's superficial.
I say when there are millions out there judging a partner in terms of a fucking very specific and very limited physical body type, income per year status, and trophy worthy showing- off-to-your-buddies looks, I'd say my small stipulation in like the lowest grade on the superficial grading scale.
Again walking home at night. The interspersed light coming from night lamps and the blue grey spotlight of the moon. My small phone speakers playing a soft electric guitar tune, echoing down a small road like it would down the grand canyon. It makes one feel small and large at the same time. I both love and feel sad about that feeling.
"There's a difference between being alone and being lonely," Josue told while we sipped warm lattes last week.
He's the type of guy who hits spot on certain feelings or issues in life with a simple metaphor or little clever saying. It awesome because it's like wisdom + a little truffle of an image. I like him. I recognize him as a mentor. Or at least I hope he is. Not because I doubt his experience, but because I doubt whether I'm good enough to be his pupil.
He has gone through so much its ridiculous. It should be a movie plot. He had an abusive drunk of a father who used to wail on his mom. When he hit teens he begged his mom to get away with him, search for a better life. She wanted to stay. She chose a beating alcoholic shell of a person over her only son. At 15 he was living on streets and sleeping in dorms with hookers and drug addicts. He managed to work enough to survive, get an education, and now works as an independant and modestly successful graphic designer and graphics teacher at a nearby college. When I think of what success means- I think of him.
Not because of money or status or popularity as most define the idea of what it means to be successful. But because he lives his life as he wants to. He chooses his projects- and has the creative ability and independence to do it. He grows his own food, builds his own porch, and draws
comics in his spare time. He is so infinitely his own person and he needs nothing more to be happy than a pen and sketchbook.
He said it quite simply- "You've just got to see who you and do an inventory. Here are my awesome qualities. And here are the bad ones. Then look over the bad ones and just see which ones you can do without or stop stressing over. I mean I can say to myself hey you know what I truly like myself. I mean I don't think I could ever say I love myself, I'm too fucked up for that- (
heart breaking a little at that) but I can honestly say, 'yeah you know what Josue, you are pretty cool dude.' "
It may sound a little kooky, but really, how many people do you know who honestly can say they like themselves?
You'd be surprised how little.
In fact I noticed, even from random conversations with different people, people most often faced with that proposition 'Do I like who I am?' would answer with something negative first.
"I could be skinnier"
"I wish I was more disciplined or focused."
"I wish I was more ballsy or outgoing."
"I'm okay, but....
Notice there's always a 'but' or 'I wish'. Both regret or longing for something else. Stuck in past or the future. Self hate becomes so strong it's almost physical. For me, it becomes painful to even look in the mirror sometimes. Because I hate what I see. Even in my thoughts.
I want to learn to like myself again. Even if it means maybe being alone for awhile. Or maybe learning to be contented to be alone for a long while. In fact it's the ones who can sit alone with themselves who are the bravest and coolest in the pack. Because they are compacted. They have all they need in themselves.
