Looking out the window, wishing it were a mirror

I have always strived to be me, and all the crazy concepts that came along with it but I didn’t care cause I was well…I was being me. It was halloween my sixth or seventh grade year, and my strive to be me was maxed so I went to Kroger and visited the illusion counter….you know what I am talking about, the one where they sale all the hype (makeup, jewelry, cosmetically engineered face repaving). I was either lost in my journey for the blue boys or some pre-fanatic emo kick, regardless I picked up this beautiful new tube of lipstick that I was dying to experiment with. img_6149It was #3305 Loaded Bold or Denim; I don’t remember exactly (age does that to you).
The next day, I wore it on to school; of course I waited after I left the house, cause mom would have hung me by my drawers for wearing something so foolish. Hey at least, I was being me. I can guarantee I was called everything your could possibly think of, hazed in every possible way from everyone I saw. However, not once, did I think about taking it off. It was a sign of who I was, my identity, it was me. And, I would have never changed from that perspective ever. Being you is the megaphone of originality.
Orginial, hmmmmm….where could I even start with that one. Beginning, authentic, elementary, incentive, pioneer, informative, innotivative; all words that splash off the grease guard of what it really is. I searched and searched, thought about it, wondered and well, came up empty handed. Originality is a concept that many seek but few find. It is like the biggest blunder on the treasure map marked X ever traced out. <a href="http://Original“>be-original-life-quotes-sayings-picturesOrginial. Authentic. Genuine. Momma used to say there goes the Smiths keeping up with the Jones…it really never made sense to me why she always used to say that over and over again. But, as time would have no mercy, I grew older and noticed more. These days it seems to be so true. I began to see how when one gotta a new truck that the other had to, at the very least, have the same one. If not, trying to one up his neighbor by having one better, full of ammeities that he thought the other lacked. If Cheryl got a new haircut, a new purse, or new Sunday hat well, you best believe that even Bertha, Eleanor, and Tonya on the circuit would have that item the very next service. Which, mind you, was just two hours later.
There was never one person to be the original of what they owned. Man, sometimes I wished that I could be that little kid again. You know the one who didnt notice all this stuff. But, somehow, here we are talking about original. It seems like these days that everyone would settle for the copy, the fake, the derivative. And, honestly, I can never for the life of me understand why. Why would anyone want to be anything, something other than themselves. Each and every person is uniquely channeled to be just who they are. I have red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. It made me different yet unique. Yea, hated it growing up being referred to as pippi longstockings or red rooster; I mean why couldn’t they just call me who I was but by doing so cause me to be haunted by originality. Now a million hair dyes and hair trims later, I would love for my hair just to be the vibrant red it once was. But, it is no longer original. It is a offshoot of what it once was. Being genuine was the brunt of the joke. It wasnt taken at face value. Now, we just have a bunch of immature copies of the authentically made original.
In today’s society, we spend so much time trying to be like everyone else, that we don’t realize. We don’t envision that we are no longer the original that we were intended to be. We get this weird idea that we can’t, like the Smiths, one up the one we are portraying. Inspire but don’t copy. Haven’t you ever noticed that to buy a book may cost 12.00 dollars but to take it to the copy machine only cost .10 cent a page. Or, at Walmart, it may cost 19.95 for something. However, right below it is the generic form for 9.95. Doesn’t that tell you something. Doesn’t that resonate with how cherished your original self should be. You should always be the house choice. The one that sales for the most. You will always be more spectacular in the rarest form, and that is yourself. Don’t deny what was truly meant to be. You are a buried treasure, and I promise that one day, you will fancy that you, you were meant to be. And, that you would have never ever sold out to the copy cat game. It aint worth it, and one small decision will compromise every choice you make. So tell the story that you were meant to be the author of, not the transcriber. Paint the masterpiece as the artist, not the one selling the fake on the corner. Be the language, not the interpreter. Be You. That is the one thing that you will always be the best at. Until next time, have a good ole glass of sweet tea with a slice of faith. And, stay blessed.

Prompt courtesy of Original



1 thought on “Looking out the window, wishing it were a mirror

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close