Tuesday, February 3, 2009

i don't know, guys.


yesterday I sat in barnes & noble, with some tea and read a bunch of magazines. It's one of my favorite past times in the world, not to mention it's free and I'm cheating the magazine industry (sorry) but it feels good sometimes. as i'm sitting down, a man in sweatpants and a glittery-ghetto fabulous hoodie sits down on a stool meant for grabbing books out of someone's reach, with his legs spread making eye contact with me although he was holding a book about poker. i wasnt quite sure what to do. do i say hello? can i just pretend it's not happening? i chose to just ignore it. then as I was getting into my article about chloe sevigny in the latest Missbehave magazine, a wonderful specimen of a woman walks over.


She was very old, decked out in a jazzy looking tee shirt with cartoon sea shells on it, some sort of jacket, cropped sweatpants with socks over them and crazy shoes. Her skin was very leathery, and she seemed to know everyone that was sitting around me. "People are idiots!", she screams with her tiny hands in the air. No one really responds, but finally someone ackowledges her comment. "How come?" they ask. "You know how I know this? Because I'm an idiot also. I will admit that I am an idiot!" she responds, and then continues to talk about how she's tired of people keep telling other people that the reason they are poor is because that's what they secretly want to be. If they wanted to be rich, they would be rich. If they are poor, it is because that is how they want their lives to be. "Bullshit!" she ends the story with. Huffs and puffs her way out of the sitting area, and disappears into the afternoon.


She made me think. And i'm still not quite sure how I feel about her statement, or even why I'm blogging about it. Where I grew up, I feel like everyone was in the same 'economic boat'. No one I grew up with ever had to really struggle for money, and if they needed something, they'd always get it. I'm guilty of that also, but I can safely say that I appreciate everything I've ever been given. People do work hard for whatever it is that they want. My father always tells me that there is no such thing as luck, or lucky people. Life is what you work for. But what about the people who are trying to make it good for themselves, and it just won't work. What if I try, and it doesnt work out, over and over again? Is it right for someone to say that since it didnt work out, it's because I didnt work hard enough? It's a risk humans have to take. Some don't take it. Some do. But i bet all of those people wouldnt be into the idea of hearing someone say that if their situation is bad, it's because they asked for it to be that way. That's just fucked up.


Maybe the homeless person down the street really gave it his all once, and fell one too many times and didnt have a great support system to build him back up. Maybe a couple of ass hole rich kids beat him up for fun, or laughed when he fell asleep on the sidewalk. The majority of society has this whole attitude that it's completely easy to just succeed and if you can't, then you've lost. How is someone supposed to succeed after being pushed down so many times? Think about it.

With all of this said, I still believe that if you do work so hard for something in an honest and good way, good will somehow come. maybe not in the form that you were expecting it to come in, but in another shape that you didn't know good could even exist in. if you throw positive out there, you'll most likely get positive right back. it's just hard to concentrate on the tiny great things that are floating around everywhere as I type this, or as you read this, or as you/i just exist. society tells us there are only a certain amount of situations or 'blessings' that really count as being a success, and that's just simply not true. there are so many. but most of us are blinded by dollar signs or status symbols and i want to try so hard to rid myself of that view.


maybe things like respecting and appreciating your family members/friends, and not hurting them, listening to strangers with crazy sea-shell shirts talk, and seeing the beauty in dirt (sorry modest mouse reference) might just make you the richest person even if you have only a couple dollars in your pocket.