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 9^th 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.