Less get casual for a minute. A lot of the times I feel as though I'm super formal. In my writing, in my processing of new information, when I meet new people, etc etc.
I'm a hand shaker, shoulders back, hips squared, Mr. and Mrs. so and so, lovely weather, formal kind of girl in most of my daily activities. You can thank the parents for that.
But for a few minutes, since we are after all, in the cyber sanctity that is my blog, lests kick our shoes off and let our hair down, and make a few more grammatical errors than usual just for the hell of it.
So the past few days, slash week or so, I've been a little down in the dumps, moody judy, blue and grey. A serious ms grumpy gills. I keep a folder of journals on Word. You know of private thoughts that just aren't quite blog worthy, or far too scandalous to share...(Just kidding. they're just inner workings of my brain is all) but for you I will divulge a bit just so you can understand how truly overly dramatic and gloomy I was.
“i’m in one of those solitary moods where ones discomforted inner thoughts can only be quelled by seeing them, plain as day, in front of her. One of those moods where sunshine is an annoyance and you find yourself praying for some cloud coverage just so that you don’t end up tripping the stranger that is oh so cheerfully humming behind you because they’re “come on get happy” is driving you up the wall."
Yikes, right! I know, looking back I'm like "Good Lord Girl this is reality calling and it says shut up"
But there's this quote I'm in love with from Jitterbug Perfume, which I quoted I think in my last entry or the one just before it. It goes like this
"You'll find that you're blue. As blue as indigo. And you know what that means: Indigo. Indigoing. Indigone."
I toss this quote over in my head on a fairly regular basis and it helps me out. Also yesterday I ran to the comfort of four of my closest friends. Emily and Lindsay because they are the girls that I always always count on. And my boys Kyle and Steve because on occasion they remind me that men aren't always spineless dogs who care less what's in a girls head than what's in between their legs.
For the most part i'm a relatively private person but I'm learning more and more that its not terrible to rely on other people to pick you up when you're on the verge of Indigoing.
We all think that we're so misunderstood, and alone. That we've all got this seedy dark twistedness that no one else could possibly comprehend.
Jonathan Safran Foer said in Everything Is Illuminated that there are 613 different types of sadness. As much as I dearly love Jon and each and every word that flows from his mind into his novels, I have to beg to disagree.
I think that all of us are all sharing the very same, one, great sadness. And we together all share the solution to overcoming it and sharing in the happiness that is left in its wake.
Any who,that's that. Catch ya on the flip side.
As you finish reading this imagine me skipping down the sidewalk with sun on my shoulders, and nothing but blue skies while whistling "Come on Get Happy." even though I really really can't whistle.
its simply for illustration's sake, the sidewalk can also be substituted with a field of flowers or a room filled with puppies.
byyyyeeee
