Monday, June 22, 2015

I'm So Dope

I've had a shitty couple of weeks. Job stress is messing with my self-perception; if I'm in the top 1%, why the fuck they still sweating me? My best friend recently got engaged, and her and I being so close, like siblings, of course I feel like the sexless, spinster sister while simultaneously feeling so much joy and excitement for her I could burst; its complicated. My tutoring duties had people clamoring for more attention, more red squiggles, and discussions and study guides for me to create...

Today I put on a black, A-line swing dress, flats, big silver hoops and a red Atlantic City hoodie to go to the movies. My hair in a huge, soft cloud of curls, coils, kinks and varying "straight" pieces, made an eccentric looking afro. My glasses fogged up as soon as I stepped into the cool theater and flashed my ticket. 

As an aside, movie theaters have lost their damn minds with these concession stand prices. Why is it $10 for a ticket, and $15 for a small popcorn and a bottled water? Like...why?

Didn't matter. The theater was half filled with teenagers and the other half old-heads. Even though I wasn't alone, I sure felt like it. And then the movie started.

The thing I love most about movies in theaters is that, no matter what, when the movie starts, you're on this ride with everybody else. You are not just "you" any more; you're part of the conglomerate, the "audience." You laugh when something's funny, and so do like 35 other people. You suck your teeth at the same time 19 other people do. You fit in.

Dope is like "The Breakfast Club," or "Sixteen Candles," for my generation of kids, who grew up on Mortal Kombat, vinyls and Walkmans, and gold chains and can't let the golden age go. Admittedly, I was a literal kid through most of it, but all my greatest memories growing up were in the 90s. Once about...2003 hit? It was like getting break checked. I digress. The movie was the best one I've seen in at at least 5 years. If you can see it, see it. If you can't see it...see it.

But as I was leaving the theater, my old, worn bag slung over my shoulder, dress swishing around my hips, I felt like something was missing. Like someone was missing. And that's the thing with me, someone is always missing. There's this ghost of possibility walking next to me out into the humid Texas night; I could've seen the movie with W, Tarzan or best friend Andre and had a blast, or with a potential homie/lover/friend and walked out holding hands and ordering pizza. But I wasn't; as always, I was walking out alone. 

I related to Dope's protagonists, because like them, I didn't and sort of don't fit in anywhere. They were remarkable in an anomalous sort of way and thus, didn't really make names for themselves; they were just those "weird" kids. I was, and always feel like one of those "weird" kids. But unlike them, I don't have a tribe to call up and do "weird" shit with. I don't have my ride-or-dies nearby. I'm just one weird girl, walking to the beat of her own weird drum.

And that's... dope. Scary and lonely as shit, but it's amazing. I can do the things I love by myself and, for the most part, not feel alienated. I go to the comic store, I pick up mice for my pet snake, I get lost down town and find a taco stand to eat at, and I do all of it alone. And I feel fine. But sometimes...I just want to share what I love with people I like. Sometimes I want a hand in mine, or a shoulder to lean on. Sometimes, I'm not enough for my damn self.

I feel like this has gone in so many directions...Takeaways are as follows: 1) See Dope. I loved it. B) Confidence in one's self is awesome and allows one to feel complete even when they're alone. III) Some times that's not enough, and weirdly enough, that's okay.

Later days, Tribe.

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