Middle Fingering Life.

Lately I’ve penned a series of rather depressing laments. It’s a part of life, we all have our down days, what else can be said. The important thing to keep in the back of ones mind is that within the grey there is illumination. Like the morning sunrise, light overpowers darkness in a public display every single day of our lives. So as I lay dying in a pool of self-pity and pious face wetting, the man I am must overpower these transparent amoebas once and for all.

Is it that easy? One minute I can be found in the gutter with mud in my eyes and the next I’m seen tearing my shirt off to the tune of Hulk Hogans “Real American”? Basically, yes. Life can turn on a dime in any given second. Keep this sugary tidbit of informative wealth at the forefront of your brain. This will come in handy when you need it the most.

Being a man (and dare I say woman) is a fabulous thing. I don’t mean for a second anything to do with gender. What I refer to is the immediate rewards received in standing up for oneself, whether to another or simply to the universe in general. Backbone, my friends. To stand your ground after slipping in the slime and to wear your ricochet with pride.

In this realm we don’t last forever, similarly to being face down in the muck. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Life hates you. Peppered in the mundane grey times, there are good times and there are bad times. Cue the snoring! But the point is there will always be more bad times than good. So not only do we get more than enough practice standing tall but it becomes ingrained in us to just keep going.

Catapulted daily through every colored beam of light there is in a rainbow, you’re always going to land back in the black. But it’s never been about where we fall. Even the why’s don’t matter. And it matters not that people are watching. When you find yourself out of luck, lowering the rope and brandishing that exit piece, pull yourself the heck up. Grab your lifeless corpse by the shoulders and shake that version of yourself silly. They’re temporarily disabled and needing repairs. Don’t count them out, just give them space.

You’re up. I’m up. The next swell will most certainly be on its way soon. The waves, they come, but they aren’t all fifty footers. And so what if you lose your footing, especially for those of us in the sand. You fall. I fall. Get wet. Or bloody. Throw your punches or drag your knuckles. Stand your ground. And do it with that beautiful smile.


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