Writing is risky business. It is probably the most dangerous thing I have ever experienced. Not so much because of what somebody will think or say after reading what I have penned, rather it simply has to do with the astonishing finality that once a word has been allowed to escape...it cannot be recalled. So naturally, I try to write what I live, (sometimes) live what I write, and have fun while doing both without fear of any major consequence. I try to find a perfect balance of contemplative and elaborative, something along the lines of imagination and creation, obsession and fixation, but not matter what boundaries I find myself living in and around they're usually two things that can be systematically substituted (one after another) until I can't discern between them. Maybe it's easier; I'm guessing it isn't.
Life is so much harder to live when you give yourself strict, stranglehold values, or extremist beliefs, ideas, regimens, or whatever they may be, and as the days fall off the calendar I find myself getting lightheaded at the possibility that there really is no such thing as a "right" or "wrong" answer anymore. The idea that there has to be a right or wrong, black or white, even left or right while never really admitting the power of gray or the corruption of streaming in and out of vague, unorganized, misappropriated sections of life is more and more, slowly but surely, astounding me. The speed at which we try and live is the reason we look twenty years older than our chronological age (I call it our "societal" age) and it doesn't seem like anybody is willing to slow down, not for a moment, a second, or a teardrop; living life on a hangnail.
Living life as part of the human race, actually coming to the realization that the human race really is a "race" is hanging, and probably from now on, in every breath of every word constructed from every thought I'll ever again have. I've given it as much thought as my health is allowing me, and I really can't decide why anything (of that "right" or "wrong" nature) really matters anymore or why it would affect my daily "routine", or anything at all that I associate myself with. I really can't understand why I can't allow myself to just L-I-V-E my life, with no regrets, as long as I stay true to myself and what makes me (and those around me) happy. That's probably what all of us should do but who knows if that's completely possible (or even plausible)?
This is ALL I am and always will be (as far as I can tell). I absolutely LOVE to LOVE people, places and things. It is just in my nature to show complete appreciation and adoration for those things I respect and like. I get the utmost enjoyment out of making people laugh, smile, and just enjoy themselves overall. And I want to be the guy people can reflect on and say to themselves, "Hey, that Shayne guy was all about having a good time, and even if he did make the occasional mistake, he was just an alright person and I'm glad I gave him that chance..." and I just want to have a chance to LOVE somebody the way I want to LOVE them, APPRECIATE them, ADORE them, or RESPECT them (and all at once but showing no preference of one over the other) so I can enjoy myself and help that significant other enjoy him/herself. I get so much enjoyment out of being a nice guy, doing nice things for friends (and strangers alike), and just trying to never take things TOO seriously or without a grain of salt. I like showing people nice times and, hey, if I want to take you out on a date I want to show you that NICE GUYS can really be NICE and ENJOYABLE without being PRETENTIOUS, AMBIGUOUS, RIDICULOUS, or "TOO NICE" (and yes, I've been dumped many times for being "TOO NICE" - what the fuck is that?)! I suppose it is natural to constantly be seeking companionship (sometimes when we ALREADY have a significant other) because it is somehow the means to an end, something to justify our otherwise innate existence. I can't tell whether or not I'm lonely or poetic at this point, but I suppose they go hand in hand (like all the other basket case emotions we deal with daily). Who knows if it really is right or wrong to seek constant companionship (even with a current relationship, so long as I can escape judgment I think I'm capable of almost anything.
I don't find enjoyment in constantly judging any people, persons, places, things, etc. and I just want to give chances to everyone (even if they give me zero chance) because I want to lead by example, but never actually lose sleep over those who don't fall into line with my views I guess. I want to live a modest life, free of most "modern" shackles, boundaries (within reason), and labels and what not. Life should just be about enjoyment, no matter what other ulterior motive you may have, and we should just do everything we like to do, with CONVICTION. Is it so much to ask of myself? Or of you?
Sometimes all we have (other than our will to question, command and conquer) is our names. A name, a reputation, a lifestyle; this is all we wear to bed ever single night, tucked away beneath those warm layers of conscientiousness, aptitude, ability, and apathy. Personally, I embrace apathy the same way previous generations accepted rebelliousness, causation, protest, conformity, Elvis (why not?), and all those other emotions in between. In fact, I can say in all confidence that I would be more apathetic…if I weren't so lethargic. But once we get past all the fallibilities we all deal with throughout our everyday lives, I know one thing for sure; I will always have my name. The reputation I have tried to create and maintain for the last five or so years, I know, isn't going anywhere so long as being lazy (but polite), apathetic (but generous), and conscientious (but non-spiritual) is still acceptable for another hundred years or so. And even though life sometimes throws us curveballs – take me being in college for example (long story short: I enrolled because of pure boredom) – I'm pretty confident that big dreams can still exist in the smallest of minds, that pure hearts can nestle themselves inside greedy ribcages, that there is a life beyond good and evil, and that no matter who everyone else thinks we are (or who we pass ourselves off as being to strangers, friends, family, etc) we will always be a little different everyday we unleash ourselves from our matching plaid sheets, tight denim jeans, and worn brown hoodies, hoping our daily commutes don't end in fender-benders.
So if life is always livable, if history is written by the winners, if everything changes (except our names / but even our identities), why even bother with anything else? Find your soul mate and flex your muscles, enjoy the pragmatic and resent (but secretly admire) the pretentious, and embrace the vitality in a statement like, "A drop of water is a grain of gold." Live life and do what makes you happy (regardless of creed, gender, wealth, or circumstance), but never be ashamed of your name. We only get one shot at a reputation so fight for every inch of it. Long L-I-V-E.
-Shayne Edwin Pruett