THE ADVENTURERS

Those are always the ones. The one's who get flipped around in the pan like a fucking flapjack. Me, you know, I was voted biggest "airhead" in high school. And I WAS. You wouldn't believe the amount of stupid shit I did just because I wasn't thinking. And sometimes you DO actually hurt people. I tried to please everyone, to make everyone happy. That was my ailment. There is simply no greater disaster in the waiting than that. I didn't posses the ability to think ahead, to realize people operated quite differently than I did. And I haven't gotten that much better at it; I've just learned to be more careful, to be extremely cautious when it comes to the consequences of dealing with people. My greatest desire in the past was to cultivate deep, lasting friendships. It meant everything to me. Not any more. I still love people just the same but I want very little to do with their lives and vice versa. I think this is why I love Facebook so much. I know it sounds crazy but it's true. It must be an entirely different experience for me than most people. I would much rather interact with people on here than in person, to have to look into each other's eyes, at their faces. I get stuck on their nose hairs, on their strings of spit, on their clogged pours like little strawberry seeds. It feels disrespectful, unholy. I find it no less repulsive than if we had to turn around, bend over, reach back, and spread our ass cheeks in order to communicate. And that goes for private messaging on here too. I DO NOT LIKE IT! Anyway, yes, those are the ones, the people I adore. The ones who've at least once, felt that big, flat spatula slip beneath them and flip them up in the air. Tragedy and loss, betrayal, these are the most important events in our lives. I know we're all different, of course, that it takes all kinds, but it's extremely difficult for me to comprehend the existence of anyone in their late 20s, 30s, or 40s who hasn't gone through horrendous bouts of suicidal depression. I had the strangest, most beautifully shaped piece of wood engraved in my first show. It was maybe 4 feet tall, rising up like a staff or a spear. It said, "Wisdom is the byproduct of adventure." It sat alongside a large rock I touched up to look like a kind, wise old Buddhistic looking man. I even gave him barely visible little hairs on his chin and on top of his head. I spent hours, maticulously gluing them on, one by one. I don't think anyone even noticed.