No Doubt

This is an old post. It's a meme that fell out of my brain way too long ago. Like thirty seconds too long.

What's a meme, anyway? Is it a mental infection? Or is it a word? 

Was it always a word? 

Will it be, later?

I indulge luxuriously in cliche today, to see what harm it brings. I'm a girl, who looks like a drawing of one, done by some dude. A rather advanced drawing, produced with the intention to insult, my body is like a rounded block with two circles, a cootie shot girl, with long stick legs and identical hair. My pride in this is overflowing. I could describe myself in reference to garbage all day, and it would only make me feel better. My residual self image is simple and easy to remember, so that everything else can change. Outer perception is what I face with fire in my eyes and laughter on my tongue.

I have contacts, but glasses are more fun. They're newness on a face.

Nothing on the outside is not on the inside, however. And on the inside, I've been the same for too long. How I know this is, everything I bring from the inside to the outside is met with appreciation. Total, abundant appreciation. This means, although I must have found my sweet spot with the world, that I've stopped being new. Predictably, I've stopped creating, I am now solely recreating former glory, instead of swimming upstream to the best destinations. I've been driving my Ferrari to Wendy's instead of testing it on I-70.

And it's because I'm scared that other drivers won't know it's a Ferrari if I take it on the road. They'll doubt it, call it a kit car and make fun of me for being so naive as to believe in my own authenticity. That my life is devoid of these negative reactions only makes it worse. It makes me doubt my ability to deal, should the situation arrive. This is how people come to loathe success. On to a new breed.

This is the message: We, some of us, are addicted to new.

I am, wholeheartedly.

For me, the cliche is new.

It's a healthy addiction, natural and beautiful. Whatever the source, new is riding a wave, reigning the stallions of chaos with an ever-light hand, and helping to drive that band into the future. New is what happens when we explore, when we dare to touch the sun with our bare hands just to feel the day change. New is every second that you spend away from your thoughts and out in the world, because nothing is the same out here. New is happening. New is real.

Now, there is a time to be pensive and cautious. It's called the past. The past is an arena where you compare the effects of your mistaken actions with the now wholly unknowable thought process that led you to do them. A silly thing, because the you now, post-new, has no idea how the other pre-new you was thinking. That was the point of doing something new.

New never exists in a way that is perfectable. But it's a perfect fit. Every time.

Told you it was an old idea.

Bye now!