(c) Breeze Vincinz
I have been under an absolutely immense amount stress and anxiety for the past couple weeks, maybe even a month or two. And then today… it started raining.
The other day while at the gym, I was pondering the whole concept of suicide. Sometimes I think it’s good to get in those heart spaces when everything is just completely out of whack and fucked up. I think it’s good for your personal space to be shitty sometimes. Mainly so you can remember it when someone else is going through the same thing and you can at least for a couple of seconds identify with their humanity. For me, I’ve been thinking of some former managers, evil reality show villains, that asshole bus driver that dropped me off like a half a mile away from my bus stop, all those other people whom I wanted to see dead and wished them harm. Then I’m hurt, like right now, and beaten, and downtrodden and run over and I just want it to end and I realize when all those people were being so shitty, they probably felt the exact same way I feel right now. I got to remember this feeling, because what I really want right now aside from reprieve is just compassion. I just want somebody to hold me, not want anything from me and just tell me that every thing is going to be okay.
I think I would choose death if it weren’t so… you know… final. I somewhat believe in reincarnation and the transfer of energy once you leave this space but I think some things are very succinct. Fingerprints are unique for a purpose. When you die, you may come back again, but you’ll never have those same fingerprints, it’ll never be the same. What we’re going through right now is very unique, and as much as “right now” completely fucking sucks for me, I guess I’m not ready to completely give up on it just yet. If I go right now, there’s no turning back, I wouldn’t just die, everybody I know would die, everything I do would die. I may come back but, this whole thing that I know of right now wouldn’t exist for me anymore. There would be no more Monthly Breeze or Downtown Los Angeles City Walk or momma or America’s Next Top Model, or Diet Cherry 7up or Facebook or, just the slew of other things that make up my world view… I would have to start completely all over again and who knows when and where I would turn up… if I would turn up.
As I get older I’m trying to come to terms with my own mortality. I remember a grade school teacher once telling me that the main thing separating us from animals is the fact that we know that we are eventually going to die. Dogs just bark, fish just swim, but we know eventually one day, it’s all going to go, and once you make that realization, that’s when you begin to live, and take advantage of your opposable thumbs, your working limbs, you appreciate your lungs still being able to be filled with air, your voice still being able to speak a cognizant language. I know one day I’m going to eventually die and the thought totally sucks…. I got so much more game to play! Right now, I have a grocery list of shit that I feel is just beating me down and just raping the happiness out of my soul but I just have to think of the bigger picture in that… no one really leaves this earth completely “clean”, like… everybody gets a little shit thrown on them at one point or another… everybody, from Ghandi to Audrey Hepburn to
Oprah… nobody’s perfect and no one has had a life completely filled with perfect circumstances and easy loving… everybody has had some shit thrown on them at one point or another. You just gotta wipe it off and keep going. You gotta realize you aren’t the only one, the first one or the last one really… to ever be shitted on… and it’s okay. It fucking sucks… but it’s okay.
Besides, I keep going back to my parents. Well… all of my family and my friends really but mainly momma and daddy. They’ve been through about thirty or so more years of being shit on than me. Who am I to complain about anything or consider ending it all when I haven’t even begun to go through the crap they have. And for some particular reason I just think they would just be extremely pissed off at me… ending my life… for my job?! For my ex-boyfriend!? For the credit card people!? For the Federal Student Loan people!? For the Gas Company!? I think they would be enraged at me for not having the balls to stand up to all of those entities and say, “Fuck you! You can’t have me!”
But I do understand the inclination. And I hope I can offer some sort of solace to anybody who might be going through the same thing… because we all do… and we just got to get over it.
It’s stopped raining by the way.
I have been under an absolutely immense amount stress and anxiety for the past couple weeks, maybe even a month or two. And then today… it started raining.The other day while at the gym, I was pondering the whole concept of suicide. Sometimes I think it’s good to get in those heart spaces when everything is just completely out of whack and fucked up. I think it’s good for your personal space to be shitty sometimes. Mainly so you can remember it when someone else is going through the same thing and you can at least for a couple of seconds identify with their humanity. For me, I’ve been thinking of some former managers, evil reality show villains, that asshole bus driver that dropped me off like a half a mile away from my bus stop, all those other people whom I wanted to see dead and wished them harm. Then I’m hurt, like right now, and beaten, and downtrodden and run over and I just want it to end and I realize when all those people were being so shitty, they probably felt the exact same way I feel right now. I got to remember this feeling, because what I really want right now aside from reprieve is just compassion. I just want somebody to hold me, not want anything from me and just tell me that every thing is going to be okay.
I think I would choose death if it weren’t so… you know… final. I somewhat believe in reincarnation and the transfer of energy once you leave this space but I think some things are very succinct. Fingerprints are unique for a purpose. When you die, you may come back again, but you’ll never have those same fingerprints, it’ll never be the same. What we’re going through right now is very unique, and as much as “right now” completely fucking sucks for me, I guess I’m not ready to completely give up on it just yet. If I go right now, there’s no turning back, I wouldn’t just die, everybody I know would die, everything I do would die. I may come back but, this whole thing that I know of right now wouldn’t exist for me anymore. There would be no more Monthly Breeze or Downtown Los Angeles City Walk or momma or America’s Next Top Model, or Diet Cherry 7up or Facebook or, just the slew of other things that make up my world view… I would have to start completely all over again and who knows when and where I would turn up… if I would turn up.
As I get older I’m trying to come to terms with my own mortality. I remember a grade school teacher once telling me that the main thing separating us from animals is the fact that we know that we are eventually going to die. Dogs just bark, fish just swim, but we know eventually one day, it’s all going to go, and once you make that realization, that’s when you begin to live, and take advantage of your opposable thumbs, your working limbs, you appreciate your lungs still being able to be filled with air, your voice still being able to speak a cognizant language. I know one day I’m going to eventually die and the thought totally sucks…. I got so much more game to play! Right now, I have a grocery list of shit that I feel is just beating me down and just raping the happiness out of my soul but I just have to think of the bigger picture in that… no one really leaves this earth completely “clean”, like… everybody gets a little shit thrown on them at one point or another… everybody, from Ghandi to Audrey Hepburn to
Oprah… nobody’s perfect and no one has had a life completely filled with perfect circumstances and easy loving… everybody has had some shit thrown on them at one point or another. You just gotta wipe it off and keep going. You gotta realize you aren’t the only one, the first one or the last one really… to ever be shitted on… and it’s okay. It fucking sucks… but it’s okay.Besides, I keep going back to my parents. Well… all of my family and my friends really but mainly momma and daddy. They’ve been through about thirty or so more years of being shit on than me. Who am I to complain about anything or consider ending it all when I haven’t even begun to go through the crap they have. And for some particular reason I just think they would just be extremely pissed off at me… ending my life… for my job?! For my ex-boyfriend!? For the credit card people!? For the Federal Student Loan people!? For the Gas Company!? I think they would be enraged at me for not having the balls to stand up to all of those entities and say, “Fuck you! You can’t have me!”
But I do understand the inclination. And I hope I can offer some sort of solace to anybody who might be going through the same thing… because we all do… and we just got to get over it.
It’s stopped raining by the way.
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