My rent is due. As usual it’s pretty late but, you would be surprised how a naked baby shaped man with two pistols pointed at someone could convince his landlord to let the rent be over looked for awhile. Of course I want to blame it on Jeff, but the fact is that I picked this really expensive place. We live on the top floor of this 40 story building, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Something you may not know about your favorite loverboy is that I love heights. Whenever I need to think (and I do a lot of fucking thinking…mainly about days past of forgotten smiles and chili cheese burgers) I find myself simply standing by the window… and just staring down at the endless view.
I press my hand against the cold translucent barrier that protects me from the outside world. The dirty wash of it makes me feel like everything outside doesn’t even exist at times…almost like I’m looking into a television. I decide that I am not afraid to accept to truths of life today and open the force field that is thine window and find myself perched on the ledge (I can fly…don’t be stupid and sit hanging out the fucking window…ahem, I digress). The wind blows my hair in my face. It felt like it should symbolize something so I decided to think seriously for the first time today. After two hours of sitting there I decided that my balls itched. Scratched them shits up real good and realized that couldn’t of been the profound thought that I was looking for.
Another hour passes and I find the wind in my face again. This time it hits me and I see that what I was looking for was in front of me the whole time. It was the wind. At that moment, I realized that while I was stagnant searching for direction, the wind never quit working. It is effortless and adaptive and refuses to be stopped. I mean, that’s what this window is for. It blocks the wind from invading our lives, yet what we don’t see once behind this frail peace of protection is that the wind is ever constant. Just because we made it harder, it refuses to give up. I just look and think…what if we could actually see the struggle wind goes through in a day. Like, every obstacle that wind hit…I don’t know…it made a color or something like that (you guys probably think I’m high at this point. Yeah I’m high damnit. High up in this damn window. I’m 40 stories up for god sake! Shut up and pay attention).
Just think… if every time wind hit something, BOOM!!!! You could see the effect in a colorful explosion! Okay…maybe I am losing it, but the point I’m trying to make it that you would see an endless struggle, that refuses to be stopped. In a way…I feel that we could learn something from the wind. Everyday we go through tremendous struggles, yet some of us let them defeat us and get us down. What if wind just fucking stopped. Like after all those failures wind just said “Fuck it! Tired of running into trees and people pissing in me and shit.” Well as crazy as that sounds, that’s how most people sound when they are giving up, especially when it comes to something they could actually accomplish.
The wind doesn’t stop when it hits an obstacle. It changes direction, and tries a new approach. And eventually, it typically succeeds. There is no better feeling that knowing that all of that hard work wasn’t in vain. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I have just motivated myself. Nothing is getting done by me just sitting on this ledge running my mouth *leans off window into spiraling plummet to the ground* Don’t let anything get in your way. You control your destiny. This world ain’t all sunshine and shit. It will beat you down if you let it. Nothing hits as hard as life, but it’s not about how hard you get hit, it’s about hard you can get hit and keep on moving. That’s the only way to win. Stay classy people *spreads wings right before hitting the ground…and flies away*.