when life hands you lemons, throw them at the person telling you to make lemonade!
you choose your own happiness? Put big yellow smiley faces all over the outside of, and paint the moon and stars all over the inside of, and fill it with flowers, call it your happiness palace, but it still smells like shit and its still an outhouse.
the very definition of platitude is a trite and meaningless statement
and yet when people are going through the most profound and deep moments of their lives, we want to plaster happy face stickers on their pain, like big yellow bandaids. Put this on it won’t hurt any more.
am I the only one who craves truth? am I the only one who thinks being real is more important than smiling in the face of your own heartbreak?
in the face of death? in the face of pain?
why do we want to tell people, pull yourself up by your boots straps when the problem is that the boots straps just snapped off and you are standing in quicksand, it isn’t always as easy as your little platitude.
glad i went through it, hard for everyone around me but so glad that i trudged along on my own, snotty tear stained and red faced for a whole year. glad i did, stumbling fumbling trying to remake my life for another year. glad i did. and then building brick by brick a new life, glad i did. i didn’t make lemonade i built the fooking pyramids of egypt. so take your lemons and make your own damn unsweetened drink.
i tell him, you know, the truth is, that he wasn’t such a bad guy, he was smart, and sometimes he was nice, but the truth is, i was just married to the wrong person, he wasn’t right for me, at all.
he says, because you were dumb, when you married him, you just were not thinking.
yeah i know i say.
he kisses the top of my head as he waters the great big healthy plants behind me, reaching over me.
knowing you makes me realize it, i say, realize what kind of man is right for me.
you are such a dork, he says.
i know i say.
you know everything happens for a reason….
just dont forget that shit is still shit.
and sunshine is still sunshine
and the moon, is made of cheese.