the unstable myth

When I was younger, I wanted to be a Saint. Anyone who knows me now might think that out of character for a girl, who at 16, got gussied up to sneak out of Christian camp in an attempt to buy booze. But for me, it was a life that was rebellious and different. I devoured tales of lives of the Saints, admiring their dedication to one thing, a dedication that often superceeded their physical or personal needs. Their lives were mythical and their stories have survived for that reason. They said 'fuck you' to what society required at the time, weather that be marriage or paganism or materialism and did their own thing. I know that's what drew me to their stories- the courage to be different, no matter the consequences.

Being on the fringe of society fascinated me at different times in my life, the willingness to be above or below the 'normal' and say fuck the consequences. But now, It just seems more challenging to balance the expectations of society with my own quiet rebellions. It results in a kind of schitzophrenic identity that doesn't reconcile. In high school, the girl on the honor roll, A+ choir student was hitting up strip clubs at lunch with her pot head girlfriends and drinking vodka in church. I seem to be able to emulate the correct side for those people who need it most, the ones who don't want to think that reality is a stability that doesn't exist. It just doesn't always add up. And that's okay. Because, even if I don't know exactly what I want, I know I don't want to be 'normal' or 'average'. What the definite definitions of these words are are obviously negotiable, but, from my understanding of what that might be (something like a suburban horror story)- terrifies me.

So I will continue on, as a Valentine's day card a friend got from his dad said; to 'Be Bold'. Hopefully it's the myth I aspire it to be- minus the stoning/burning at the stake/whipping oneself type of story.