As I sit here in college, in my dorm, in a hallway filled with dozens of other aspiring adults and menial teenagers, as i lie here in a dorm decorated my my roommate and me, I feel lucky.
I feel lucky in that i’m surrounded by motivated, intelligent and creative people. I can’t help but think of Vonnegut’s novel, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, which revolves around the theme that we should love one another as humans, simply for being human.
Listening to Jesus Etc. by Wilco makes me want to express my creativity, being in an environment where i’m all of a sudden allowed to be myself has just brought this surge, this massive, explosive energy of creativity for me. It’s terrifying because what if I loose all of this beauty, this scintillating love and excitement and ideas, but it’s also made me feel the most grateful and beautiful i’ve ever felt. It’s as if a river of pure gold is flowing and riveting through my veins, through my neurological pathways and out into the hallways in front of me. I’ve never felt so beautiful, so lucky. I cannot fathom anyone else reveling in the joy, the gratefulness and the absurd ideas that I’m feeling…
I walk down the hallway, to my left, and there’s a drunken boy in a bunny suit, laying on the ground and strangling himself with a telephone that hangs from the ceiling. There are instruments and lights and The Beatles filling, pouring out onto his floor and creating a sort of mural around him.
Even further down the hall, to my left, is a group of boys who clan together for safety and bullshit. They spit at the air, laugh at bad jokes and relieve stress with one another; one who’s nonchalant and placid attitude naturally fascinates me, someone who is anxious and over-analyzes everything.
There is an ex boyfriend of mine at home whom i still speak to, adore and see why i loved him every day. His caring eyes, warm embrace and wonderfully positive attitude towards me make me feel special and calm.
There’s this song called Jesus Etc. by Wilco that makes me want to dance, scream, jump around in circles, slash paint all over my walls and stand back and see a message which i never knew i could ever make, and people could then see this message too. I miss writing on a door of my closet.
“Tall buildings shake,
Voices are scared singing sad, sad songs,
Tuned to chords, strung down your cheeks,
Bitter melodies turning your orbit around.
Don’t cry, you can rely on me honey,
You can come by any time that you want.
You were right about the stars, each one was a setting sun.”
I’ll always have to remember that I love myself first.