Someone mentioned to me the other day that I looked different.
I equated this to the fact that my hair was pulled against my face which is uncommon practice for me – due to laziness and the fact that your face is so exposed.
I’m playing the idea of growing out my bangs again. In some recess of my mind it fills some need for novelty in the familiar of everyday life.I know that in six weeks I will cut them again. This is simply an attempt at trickery with myself.
I was corrected.
“You’re wearing lighter colors than you usually do,” I was told.
This immediately struck me peculiar as I was feeling darker than is common.
I am a gal prone to dark moments of thought. Anyone near and dear to me know this fact. There is never anything necessarily wrong in my life, I just occasionally get gray like the winter days here. Prone to long bouts of rumination and introspection.
I was in this mood when I called a friend and asked to come over.
My only attempt at understanding these moods these days is trial and error. I would have previously taken this mood as an indication that rest is required. That hasn’t made any more sense to me over the years as forcing myself to do the thing my mind says I shouldn’t.
So, fuck it, maybe my mood will be a burden on someone else, maybe that is what friends do. I’ll figure it out, but I’ll also stop being afraid to find out.
The comment did not strike me as odd because I was surprised I was wearing bright colors for being so sullen, it struck me odd because that’s a premeditated thing that I do. I always fancy up when I’m feelin’ down. That isn’t to say that I do when I’m happy to, it’s just a very common practice when I’m living a little too within myself. Maybe I think that it will cheer me up, or at least deflect.
I hadn’t realized how obvious parts of me are to others. Parts that I think are so cleverly hidden.
I shouldn’t be so surprised though.
As I asked questions to this individual the tone I was met with was defensive like they’d been asked a million times, when I simply was inquiring. Of course they’ve been asked a million times…. by the own self.
As easily as I see others – others see me. That isn’t something that I think about that often. It is rather uncomfortable to, actually.
In thinking about how the external affects the internalr I thought about other sensory details in my life.
My mother has always found a sort of salvation in rock n’ roll. From as early as I can remember I’ve been a passenger in her car to blaring rock music with the bass cranked so intensely the whole car shakes.
Strangely, in her church I found an intense association with a certain sound of music as a very pure thing.
I’ve been compulsively listening to Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin.” Once I get sick of that, I alternate between various cover versions.
I remember being a child listening to this song and feeling some sense of freedom within it. It sounded like what I had imagined true freedom felt like. This free falling and a carefree approach about it. A wisdom in not fighting the fall, but just letting it happen. Of knowing the truth about yourself, but still enjoying the fall of it because you chose to be it.
The song sounded to me like sunsets, open roads, and a hot arm under the sun’s spotlight in an open window. The most romantic parts of being unbound.
As I grow older I’ve lived on both sides of this song. I have been the bad boy standing in shadows that doesn’t even miss her. I have been the good girl at home with a broken heart, crazy about Elvis. The muse for this entire thought being the two that inspired these vacillating roles.
In either side I am free falling.
As I listen to this song again I feel that similar sense of possible freedom. However, no matter what observations, what I think is absurd of society, what ideals I think should be upheld, I have to reconcile this with the fact that I do live within that world. Standing on the outside looking in and unwilling to join does not work. Standing on the inside looking out and unwilling to join those on the fringes of society does not work. There are things to accept. And there are things to simply let go.
Balance is no new concept. Everyone knows it’s a goal to achieve, but I guess it’s a goal you spend your lifetime on. Maybe letting go of trying to get it sooner is part of the ‘acceptance’ and ‘let go.’ W
I don’t want to live in the woods and create energy from solar power. Fuck that. I am lazy.
I don’t want to shake hands with rude people and show them respect simply because they make more money than I do. Fuck that. I’m honest.
However, which can I stand?
I can stand wearing lighter colors and having people close enough to me recognize that when I look the lightest I need pressed the hardest.
I can stand listening to ‘Free fallin’ for hours on repeat, a little ‘hazy’ and allowing myself to fall down into the music.
I mean what more does one need than the freedom to choose to grow their bangs out?
If I really, really think about it, freedom for me doesn’t really mean abandoning rules of society. It isn’t escaping to become an outlaw. It isn’t about having so much money I can do whatever I want, whenever I want.
For me it is about being able to live inside with myself and accept the decisions I make and allow myself to freely fall with the consequences of those decisions – for better or for worse – and to accept the consequences – for better or for worse – because I did choose them. To learn. To not need less, to not need more, to want exactly what I have.
That’s what I think. I think that’s my free fallin’, but hell, who knows. I’m over this hippy dippy shit now.