People are messy. People make up their minds, and then come face-to-face with worries and insecurities and loose their footing and waver from their choices. People start moving, and then stumble, stand still or get turned around and head back in the opposite direction. People fall down, and they get back up. They breakdown and then build up over and over again. People have feelings. Feelings that overwhelm and confuse and come on out of nowhere all at once when it’s least convenient, without any warning and without any apparent cause. They come and make things messy, unclear and uncertain. There is so much variation and unexpectedness to people…but sometimes it’s the peculiar way things break down and then build up—they way they are left over after the storm passes—and the way people come out of these messes with their own particularities that make them so beautiful and wonderful.
It’s like this: A book doesn’t really become yours until the spine is worn and the covers are curled from use and the pages are marked with underlines and the margins are filled with annotations from when the words you read provoked thoughts in you at a particular time. A car isn’t really yours until you’ve driven it and there’s dirt sprayed up on the sides and the carpet’s dirty and covered in footprints and the “new car smell” has faded and been replaced by…whatever your smell is. An empty journal becomes your journal when you’ve filled the pages up with your life. The garden at your house is yours when you’ve gotten down on your knees and put your hands in the soil and planted it yourself. Your jeans get worn in and loosened up and the knees get faded as you wear them. That table you eat dinner at isn’t really a dining table until you’ve spilt drinks and splattered food all over it with your family and friends—those dining rooms that are so clean and untouched that you can tell no one has eaten there just by looking in aren’t a part of your home, and those “living rooms” that look like they’ve been taken out of a magazine aren’t living rooms if no one is allowed to live in them! None of these things become yours until you’ve messed them up with your personal use. That’s how they become “personal”; when parts of you spill out onto them.
The messes in life are part of our personalities. They’re not bad; they make everything personal and keep life close to you—even when that means you get a little dirty every once in awhile.@1 year ago with 2 notes
#life #personal #writing #people #mess