I-Mockery Forum - When it comes to size and weight...

when i was a teenager (centuries ago), i was very shallow.

i appraised myself based on others' evaluations, or (mostly) what i thought comprised their evaluations. i was a bit stuck-up, wouldn't leave the house without my makeup and hair perfectly in place. everything i did, everyone i met was filtered through my version of my friends' eyes.

there was this one guy i went to church with. his mom made him go. (my mom would've if i'd resisted, but i didn't 'cause i wanted her approval.) he was different from any guy i'd ever really liked. i was in ninth grade; he was in eleventh--at different schools. he was into cars and smoking pot and benny hill and lynyrd skynyrd. i was into pop music and being on the yearbook staff and cheerleading.

i rememember trying to figure out what my friends would think and say about him. it wasn't until one of them joined me on a church hayride that i really started to like him. she told me she thought he was cute, and it was like the marshmallow was engulfed in the flame: yah! he is, isn't he? then i was all confident, and i truly did dig him.

(unfortunately, he was killed within a few months time, and i ended up immortalizing him, crying all the time and writing sappy poetry, listening to "hotel california" and "lynyrd skynyrd's greatest hits" constantly. i can still bring his image to mind in an instant.)

i found the elevator button when i was about eighteen. i fell for this guy who was the guitar player in my first rock band. he was about 27. my parents were all against me playing in rock and roll, of course, (they'd still much rather me do the gospel circuit.) and they certainly wouldn't approve of these much-older people's habits.

but i fell in love. i remember looking at him, and seeing him as others would. my friends, for example, i knew wouldn't be able to see past his cheap clothing and extra layers of fat or even his living in cracktown.

i decided immediately that it just didn't matter. i didn't care what anyone thought; i saw the him that he really was, down past all the trivial bullshit. i had to search out my own truths.

(of course, my whole world exploded when he left me on my knees begging him not to. at least i got a good start to a song out of that skewed vision of myself i saw in the mirrored hall when the door slammed.)

it's a lot easier in life, i think, to be jointly guided by your physical senses and your need for approval from others. overall, you don't have to deal with as much shit from other people when you're just floating downstream in concert.

but it seems to me once you see past that, it's like stepping out of the cave into the sun's rays.

you can't go back and squat on the wall again, psyche yourself into believing the fire down below is a suitable replica.

or at least i can't. and i'm glad for that.