It feels like I lined up a row of cars. Something expensive. Like Jaguars or Beamers. I lined them up while wearing white spandex bedazzled with jewels, bragging about how I can use this magical motor-bike to leap over them. Why cars? Why not jump spikes or sharks or alligators? Why is there an image burned in my mind of things soaring over vehicles to varying success? Obviously I watched the little boy cartoons in the morning.
Anyway, it feels like I donned the costume and brandished the challenge. I stated that I could clear this many obstacles in one great leap. Equipped with my tiny, efficient chariot and sheer guts. I take the stage and bow before mounting my steed and surging toward the ramp. Smiling and determined I defy the laws of physics and somehow hurtle myself across the country. I didn’t think about the landing. I mostly assumed I wouldn’t make it.
The hardest part of magic is perpetually not believing it exists. Acknowledging its effectiveness is to expose it to the eye of scrutiny – which we know changes it, scientifically. I’m sure I’m heading in the right direction but that’s based on faith. In foreign territory, I can only rely on instincts I actually feel. I spent so long ignoring my gut because of other people’s opinions. In a world of missed opportunities and sharp contrast my feelings are the only consistent good I’ve found.
Kindness is involuntary when you realize we’re all pretty much the same. The negative things I worry someone might think about me are details no one even notices. The best example is make-up. When we put on makeup in the mirror it’s under the bright lights of a station dubbed Vanity. Once you get anywhere the lights are dim and you’ve already sweated half the details of your eye makeup into a smokey mess. The mask just blurs lines between the person your friends know and who you really are. The part in the mirror is for our own gratification.
The real enemy is anyone that tells you to worry. Advice should not consist of other peoples’ opinions. Standards are relative and the things you care about are yours to decide. All advertising is meant to make you feel bad about yourself because otherwise we wouldn’t know who is more important. The colors and genders will eventually all bleed together after someone over-zealously tries to tie-dye the different parts of such a large Nation one too many times. The Greater Scheme of things is far beyond what people on the internet think.