I can’t read a map, your mind, or the weather.
But that doesn’t bother me.
In the end, we’re all just a little misunderstood - misunderstood and mediocre at promises and fair-play.
It’s two o’clock in the morning and I still don’t understand why I get thrown into the deep end when the world is smiling and full of sunshine. I want to live selfishly and laugh without guilt; I want to drink expensive whiskey and wine, eat well, drive like crazy, and do absolutely anything for the story.
I still don’t understand why I find myself confused about last week, this weekend or the conversation we had at 7:11am this morning. People are strange. But we’re always going to be stitched together, trying to figure out which way is up, down, backwards, around and tired of being pulled in ten too many antagonizing directions. I’m just as lost as you are, remember? Remember.
I still can’t read a map without making up my own way, cutting corners and driving on the wrong side of the road, racking up fines and thrashing the road that fogs up my memory and rear-view vision. I can’t remember the last time I made a definitive decision unless it's occurred in the last ten minutes. I’m as useless as I was with directions than when I was a year ago, standing at heaven’s door and hell’s exit. How can I can I pretend as though my life is forfeited to a beautiful, uninterrupted progression of prosperity and success? Blind-spots and speed bumps slow you down for a reason. There is no easy road to death, not for anyone; we’re all just on it – battling our own demons and destructive thoughts. Life is a treacherous journey towards happiness and withered dreams, and you and I aren’t so different after all. We’re all stuck in our own world of mayhem and mystery.
But just because you can’t read a map doesn’t mean you won’t get there. Just because you don’t know me, doesn’t mean you can’t get me.
I find sanctuary in the sanity of my own dreams. I thrive off individual purpose and plans. I still get lost and love it – I’m twisted, tired and terrified, too, you know. Twenty-one was my introduction to the unfiltered world we live in.
For me, 2015 came and passed in what a cliché would class as a blink of an eye – quick, questionable, and not once within reason. Who I was a year ago can hardly compare to the person I am now. It’s been a year of learning to let go, get past and pace myself against our rapidly changing culture. But everyone fears, fails and fucks up; this lifetime isn’t about you and the past you once had. Holding onto the person you use to be or know is about as useless as wishful thinking and wasted nights.
Nevertheless, it’s that time of the year again. Suddenly the clock has enough meaning to make a difference to the person you are and think you want to become, just not nearly enough power to make it happen overnight. Change is never as consistent or easy as you’d like to believe it is.
So here’s to a new year, new day and new life – whatever that means to you – because I can’t read a map, but that doesn’t bother me. Every day has its own direction. Who you want to become is hidden somewhere in the chaos, we’re just making fun with what we’ve got while we wait for the rest of the pieces to show up.
Happy 2016, lovers, heartbreakers and like-minded souls. Here’s to you