Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Blue Skies

It was Friday night and summer had just begun hugging the air, I was only fifteen at the time and as usual I was irritated and annoyed when I heard my mothers screeching voice call me down from my room. I reluctantly responded with a “what! Why?” I probably should have been a little nicer seeming, as my parents were about to inform me I was allowed to take my skydiving aspirations to the next level. For those of you who know absolutely noting about the sport you have to take a six hour ground course prior to jumping with your own parachute so you can be shoved out of the cop or in this case the plane.
For as along as I can remember exiting a plane at 13,500 has never been a fear but a feeling that forms deep in my gut that forces a smile to always creep onto my face. People ask me what it’s like and I always say its different for everyone, some hate it and feel nauseous and light headed others come down screaming and jumping with adrenaline as if they had just woken up from the best nap of their lives and all they can think about is experiencing that moment over and over again. But for me its indescribable, just a sensation, something that could never be fully put into words even though I try every time I am faced with the question. Some say I was born to fly, it’s in my blood. Influenced by my parents extensive relationship with the sport and how they fell in love. Personally I’m in love with every aspect of the skydiving world but together my parents found something entirely different but completely the same to how I feel.  
 The most common question I get is, “why would you want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane?” and I respond with, because it makes me happy and it is a whole lot of fun.
I was a freshman in high school and at the time the majority of my thoughts were condensed into one mated and unorganized ball of yarn with handing in a late homework as my biggest fear.  Although the details of my life where by no means rudimentary or childish I just hadn’t fully pushed through that barrier that held my independence and drive to work for something other then good grades. But once you hear something or experience a new thing for the first time you can never take it back, its stuck with you for the rest of your life even if its merely the shadow of something that once was.                   
 Skydiving played and plays a large role in the process of me entering adulthood, its as if I have entered this whole other plane of reality, constructed around a different set of rules and guidelines as well as freedoms I had been denied for so many years while tied to the ground. It helped me realize there is more to life then textbooks and essays based on some old guy who died and was apart of the 100 years war or prompted the creation of the bill of rights to be added to the constitution or was against women’s suffrage. Not that any of those things are bad or not worth learning it just allowed me to gain perspective from tasks unrelated to school assignments causing me to be filled with more questions.       
I have gone through a more unique “right of passage” then the average teenager because most aren’t given the opportunity to strap a parachute to their backs and learn to control their body as they fall through the sky. Yes, its really really awesome and insane all at the same time but its also accelerated my level of maturity and exposure to the world without any of its imperfections photoshopped to nothing but rays of sunshine and green grass. As the saying goes, nothing is perfect, but who wants perfection when there are so many more interesting aspects of the earth that are neither flawless nor ruined.

            

Why?

With the constant fluctuation of spiraling emotions and unnecessary drama it all becomes merely a series of background noises, white noise pre-say drowning on like an old tractor years over due its retirement.
I could tell you that my life is interesting full of excitement and bold decisions or that my parents died and I have been suicidal ever sense but then I would be lying if I claimed those truths as my own. But instead I am consumed by other peoples complaints and impossible goals of getting into one of the” ivy’s”, yeah that place I’m talking about that makes me want to scream with frustration and take someone’s throat with my bare hands and put just the right amount of pressure so they can’t breath but their still alive, that’s the feeling I have everyday I am in high school. Gruesome yes, just as whinny and “complainy” as the last teen age girl who happened to make it to the 9th grade yes, but I can’t seem to move past my own discomfort of the programed society we live our lives in never questioning a single command given to us.  No one knows anything yet some claim to know all, how does that work? Is it because of some test they took that was created by “big brother” that makes them a certified genius and others should stop what their doing in their own lives and listen to what you have to say? I’m sorry but that’s ridiculous, just admit it to your self, you know nothing, I know nothing and we should stop living our lives as if someone placed a robotic chip in our brains so we don’t question why there are trees and endangered reptiles hidden within the earths crust or why we even call anything, anything? So even though I can’t tell you how my moms childhood was filled with abuse and the fear of not having food on the diner table has stuck with me all seventeen years of my life, all I can tell you is that nothing is for certain.

When you’re staring at that last question on your math test and all you have to do is isolate the stupid x and someone next to you figured it out and it happened to be 3, that x, probably isn’t even 3. Yeah your math teacher marked your answer wrong and theirs correct but why? That last marked answer just made you fail your test which only seems to feed; tension, stress, depression, insanity none of those things seem to do anyone any good yet the world is content with causing all of those things to everyone because it’s a part of life they say, why should life be laborious and impossible? Because it makes us stronger? Life, some over played pop song, and all it seems to be doing is breaking people to the point where their bones don’t know how to mend themselves anymore.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Just a Sensation

I’m one of those people who love’s the comfort of their own presence. I know how to deal with people in a professional manor when needed and over the years I have learned to adapt to the types of personalities surrounding me. I try to see people through a different pair of eyes each time they do something rude and obnoxious or suddenly feel the urge to outwardly complain about everything in their life. We all have problems and complicated relationships so how can I yell at someone who probably has a more difficult life then I do, the answer is I can’t. But there is no possible way I could handle people with grace and respect if I was denied my alone time, I love sitting in a quite but open space so I am no longer restricted by the endless noise that seems to perpetuate the worlds thoughts. I can summon pure happiness with just the feeling of uninterrupted silence even if the rest of the universe is hard at work. Noting is permanent, even the tattoos that have the power to stain our skin because before we know it they will be gone and another person will replace them as if they never existed just like a tattoo.
I love making someone smile or rubbing their back as they empty their stomachs of the nights adventures, but when I submerse myself in the restless silence that strains to find a place in my life I can’t help but think there is something more to this world then a series of straggling memories and business deals gone wrong.  If someone asked me randomly as I was walking down the street what my favorite place to be was I couldn’t tell them. There is so much in this world that I have yet to see and probably never will and therefore denying me the opportunity to know the reasoning behind all the madness that seems to perpetuate our lives. But I know for certain that finding a sense of inner peace is how the sane ones manage to embrace what is in front of them opposed to what could be in front of them.  
As a teenager attending high school every day I struggle to maintain a sense of inner peace causing me to scream from the inside out, but one of my favorite places to be and just focus on having fun or stomping a trick is the mountain. It doesn’t matter if it’s the size of my backyard but as long as it’s separate from my every day life and allows me the chance to breathe. That in itself is priceless. I strive to find happiness consistently in my life and the snow-covered mountains function as my own personal catalyst for laughter and no one can take that away from me.

 Although the sport itself is filled with competitive vibes and frustrating brick walls that I need more then a sledge hammer to break down their my walls and my frustrations that I can only conquer, making my victories taste that much sweeter. It’s where I go to be my self to let any form of filter fall away from my mouth allowing all the worries and distractions the week might have carried and I simply let them drift away. But like I said before, there is no one place that is my utmost favorite, but my favorite feeling will always be happiness.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

A Pair of Eyes

Lately I have found myself attracted to JR’s photography, each image he captures tells a story that is different for each individual who encounters it. Some say that eyes are the windows to the soul, and for me the hopeless romantic side of me believes it to be true. That one instant you happened to look at someone for a hundredth of a second longer than the average sideways glance and you both know for that moment you were all that they were thinking about and all their attention was poured into you. There is something so wonderfully awful about how that one pair of eyes has the strength to turn my whole world upside down.
When I first discovered this image I not only wanted to sit at my computer for hours looking at the seemingly terrified expression but to know what string of questions were floating within the little boys mind. What made him stop with whatever he was doing just like I had? Is he even looking at the face before him? Or is he merely acknowledging the assortment of liter smothering the dirt filled streets? Who knows.
 “The photo is the story” according to JR, but what is unique aboutt an image opposed to a written story is I can write my own script, however I decide the tale should end or begin is up to me.


Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Falling with Broken Wings


The amount of failures I have accumulated over the years is one to many for my own mind to grasp. I have been falling flat on my face since I was learning how to walk and to this day I still don’t seem to get it right. But one of my more recent failures and seems to be on going one, is my inability to get along with my parents. I HATE THEM. Yes, they feed me, cloth me, provide me with a car to drive, give me money to enjoy some luxuries life has to offer. But no matter what they do and how supportive on the outside they appear I resent them to the point of having each one of the words I say to them leave an after taste of forgotten coffee that lingers in my mouth for hours. I have tried and tried again to see the world from their eyes and the reasoning between each of their comments and parenting techniques but nothing they have done for me has over powered my constant feeling of annoyance and short temperedness because I feel they will never understand what it’s like to be me. To be constantly filled with thoughts of doubt and stress that is never truly relieved because with one task completed another one is waiting their to take its place. So not only have I failed to get along with my parents and see all the good they do but I have fallen and been crushed by so many dreams that the mere idea of facing them is like staring at someone your in love with and watching them walk away.