Almost Counts for Something...

Whoever said that ‘almost’ doesn’t count obviously was not aware that it is the longest word in the English language with all the letters in alphabetical order. See, even ‘almost’ counts for something, sometimes…almost good enough, almost always nice, almost matter, almost perfect, almost won, almost smart enough, almost cool, almost successful, almost count…

Something must be wrong with me…I wake up every day and think, “I wonder what I can post today to make someone, anyone, feel good, think twice, feel better, make laugh, give them something to talk about, think about…” and then I post, expecting, hoping, for just one positive comment or a ‘like’, so much so that they will want to share it, re-post it…and then I laugh at myself for daydreaming again. Like being back in high school again, praying this time I am the popular kid.

Only I’m not ‘Brutus,’ ‘Rocky’ or ‘Rickie’, I’m Raquel, the girl that never looked for a fight, I only fought when my friends were insulted, when I saw someone picking on someone or being picked upon, that I felt I needed to fight. I never wanted to fight, at all. I just was so angry and hurt at the injustice of things, how pretty people, rich people, stars, politician’s, popular kid’s seem to have it all and mistreated those of us that were less fortunate and or less attractive as though we were and meant nothing at all. And yet, they too often feel or felt depths of despair, I almost feel/felt sorry for them.

I realize there are many that find themselves dealing with and living with far more dire circumstance than that which I am dealing with-a single mom, impoverished and unemployed, chasing a dream to write something profound, something relevant, with heart, that will sell. Not for fame, or extravagances like spas, surgeries, Botox, boob jobs, lipo, hair or nails, but so I can feed my kids, myself , my mom, and pay for the bills, gas, lights, trash, water…

Those extravagances would be nice but, they are things I have never valued much, mostly because they have never been options for me. In fact, I cut my own hair, I have for years, not because I wanted to, I hated having short hair, but out of necessity. Comes in handy now though, because as it turns out I now love my short hair, and I now love myself, now I feel like the ‘pretty’ girl.

Only this time I want to reach out to the kids that were/are, different, the kids that were/are shy, the kids that are bullied and beat, mocked, ridiculed, condemned, judged, and tell them, f#@! what anyone thinks. We have our problems and they have theirs, yeah, even pretty, rich people have their shit. The only difference between them and me, besides money, wealth, looks, cars, and homes or…okay, let’s face it, I am poor and at best a 5 by today’s standards, but that’s beside the point. The point is, no one ever is as happy as they seem, has it all, is as ‘perfect’ as you think, has it all together, everyone has issues of their own, truth is, we all do.

So if that ‘someone’ feels superior by bullying, belittling, mocking, ridiculing, judging, you for whatever reason, just think about how miserable they must be, if picking on you, or anyone else, brings them satisfaction or joy, or some other form of perverse, twisted, pleasure. Obviously, they either were never taught any different, may not be aware they are doing it, or just don’t care, or are just that cruel, or they feel so inferior, so insecure, so unhappy in their own lives, in their own insecurities, dealing and facing their own skeleton’s demons, what have you…that in order for themselves to feel better about themselves, is to put someone else down, in an effort to ‘look cool’, ‘impress’ maintain his or her ‘popularity’, deflect the attention away from themselves, etc.The real difference is anonymity-we are not dealing with the enormous pressures or scrutiny, ridicule, gossip, drama etc. while having it all captured on film, written about, splashed on the covers of magazines, or TMZ, or E!.

When you are a teenager this is quite often the same feelings and insecurities, doubts, etc. the popular people, the pretty people, the wealthy people, the bullies, must feel, which proves, in my opinion, frankly, they are a lot more fu!#@d up than you are. They just aren’t movie stars or worthy enough to grace the covers of magazines, but making prom court, yearbook, football team, basketball team, cheerleading, drama, etc. feels just as important, to them in their world. Pardon me for saying so, but I believe Charlie Sheen is a genius, f!@#in crazy, but then, most ‘geniuses’ are-creative geniuses that is. I don’t want to cut off my ear or stick my head in an oven or a gun to my head, but I know I’m crazy. Maybe not creative enough to be popular or wealthy or published, but creative nonetheless, and crazy, certifiably at times, I think most people are, some just hide it better than others. Me, I just don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, says, or has to say. Yeah, I’m the old woman that feels I have lived my life and paid my dues and now I just speak my mind. Charlie Sheen seems to agree, and maybe that’s why he’s ‘winning.’ I know I feel better about who I am, am what I say and do, and I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks…I just don’t have his money, success, wealth, or fame, or platform.

Watching the stars and their private lives being splashed about, gossiped about, captured on film for entertainment makes me grateful for my anonymity. I have discussed this issue with my nephew at length, many times, he and I are what I guess many would call ‘free thinkers’ or ‘hippies’ of our generation, separate generations of course, seeing as I am much older than he is, but only in the sense of when we were born, because he is what I deem an ‘old soul’. He has never really been or thought, or had the opportunity to have a ‘normal’ childhood. Whatever ‘normal’ is?... Different for each of us, of course, but we just never thought quite the same as our peers…we were different, and we knew it, they knew it, hell, everyone knew it, it’s just when you are young and insecure and desperate to fit in or just blend in enough that no one picks on you or pays attention to you, because sadly, being different is what sets you apart and what bullies seem to hone in on. It as though they smell it, sense it, they are just like every other ‘predator’, they sense when something/someone is weak, vulnerable, near death, suicidal, etc. and use that to tear others down. Therefore, this is why I do not care anymore about impressing anyone, or lying, or pretending, or gossiping, not listening, reading or participating in it at all, in any capacity. I don’t need to put someone else down in order to prove my superiority or to make others feel badly about themselves for what they say, do, think, feel, or are.

Just be yourselves, don’t lie, own who you are and what you do, and what you believe, think, dream, want, do it for yourself, do what makes you happy, not because it is what you think is expected of you, or what the world accepts or approves, or relates to. Popular people have their insecurities and their issues just like any of us, wealthy people can have all the monetary things and yet still feel completely alone and dejected, enough so that they take their own lives or self-destruct under the pressure of trying to maintain their images. Too much pressure for anyone, I don’t care how rich, or ‘perfect’ he or she may appear, no one can keep up with that much scrutiny or condemnation and judgment without ‘cracking’ from the pressure. I am poor, have always been poor, probably will always be poor, but, I am happy and I find a reason every day to get up in the morning and face each day. I don’t always have sunshine and rainbows shooting out my ass, but I am and try to remain cautiously optimistic and always, always, have hope in my heart for a better day than the day before.

I pray I will find a job to pay the bills, and take care of my family, and buy myself my own car, possibly help my kids buy a car for themselves, nothing ‘major’ by most standards, but just enough that when I see the Edison, Gas, water, or trash men come around I won’t have to hold my breath or worry if they are there to cut off our services. I may never appeal to the masses. I may never be rich and famous, I may never have everything I want or need when I want and need it and I may never be the writer I dreamed of being. I can think of other things more important to focus on and be thankful for, I almost didn’t have enough to pay the electric bill, I almost didn’t have enough money to buy groceries this week, I almost didn’t have enough money to put gas in the car, but somehow, some way, I did.…I may die almost reaching my goals/dreams but I’ll take almost over nowhere near close enough, or never even tried, any day, because even ‘almost’ counts for something, sometimes.