Tuesday, 11 May 2010

Ok, enough of the springform

I'm two days into my holiday and I think I've done the right level of relaxing and housework. But then, I would! I can't believe how much has changed in the few weeks G has been here, and really, it's exciting as it is frustrating to find space for his stuff! I joke, kinda. Right now, my home smells  and feels like a laundrette, I'm washing everyone we own because I think my skin doesn't quite like the last detergent I was using... itchy! It's a beautiful day outside, and I've got this feeling of... oh, I don't know... contentment. I know there's other things I could be doing, but right pottering about the house and listening to old favourites like this or this feels like exactly what I should be doing. I kinda love forgetting how much I love certain bands, because re-discovering them is such a treat.

You know what's weird? I write ALL the damn time when I'm on a down swing, like I need to get it out and maybe I'll not feel so desperate. But when I'm happy, I feel like, not I don't have anything to write, more I shouldn't write about it. It almost feels like I'm aware people know I'm just that little crazy, but if I'm happy about something, I shouldn't rub other people's faces in it. We all talk about about the fact we're miserable, even if the facts remain secret. But when the opposite occurs, the simple fact is we (or at least *I*) don't feel entirely comfortable telling the world that yes, I am doing quite well, thank you.

So yeah. I've made peace with my problems, and continue down a merry path of life. It's real, there's cracks in the pavement and I'm trying to walk with a surer step, careful not to slip, but if it happens, I know I can pick myself up, dust myself off, start all over again. I'm not as scared of falling now. I know it'll happen from time to time, particularly when I'm not paying much attention. I'll get too distracted by simply living my life to worry about the cracks in the road all the time. I'd rather just fall occasionally than be on constant alert, not fully experiencing everything life is offering me because I'm too nervous about the outcome.

Being sensible is not the same as being on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I refuse to watch life from a distance just because it's safer. I want to fully participate in my life. I want to fuck up occasionally, because even now, I don't regret a single decision I've made, because it's led me here. Emotionally, mentally, physically.

The truth I've fought so hard to ignore is simply this. I'm not perfect. I wouldn't even want to be, really. Too much effort for not enough pay-off. And it would piss people off, being so damned perfect. I'll pass on that. It would breed an arrogance I just don't have in me. I'd rather be fallible. Imperfect. Real.

Plus... just think of those mistakes that'll turn into something amazing. I'm sure there's a few more of them in my future, providing I'm not too careful :P

1 comment:

Skinny_Cookbook said...

Bah, being perfect sucks ass. Being you doesn't :)
Loving the Fred & Ginger xx