Be bold, be brave. Be loud and obnoxious. Be fearful and timid. Make waves, start fires, cause a commotion.
Be anything but nice.
Be compassionate and have passion. Be cunning and charismatic. Be sarcastic. Be rude. Say things that make people uncomfortable. Start awkward conversations. Laugh loudly. Tell jokes and stories. Laugh at your own jokes.
Shake hands firmly with those you meet. Talk to strangers at parties. Memorize random facts to tell others.
Be reliable and dependable or be flaky and flighty. Be punctual or always be late. Say yes to invitations. Show up with presents.
Be outspoken or soft spoken, but be heard. Make your point and leave it at that. Listen closely and attentively to others.
Be anything but nice.
Be blunt and direct. Be romantic. Recite poetry. Sing loudly and off-key. Be caring and kind. Give people homemade gifts. Be flirtatious and funky. Wear costumes as often as possible and speak with fake accents and give fake names at parties.
Be rowdy and reckless or be predictable and cautious. Fall in love often and without abandon. Kiss babies and pet dogs. Feed the birds. Sigh loudly and emphatically. Read classic literature and romance novels. Go to the theater and to museums and drink beers out of brown paper bags on the street. Take road trips without maps and get lost. Drink strong whiskey, neat, in the diviest bars you can find.
Be anything but nice.
Play in the dirt, the mud, the sand. Lay in the grass. Go for pick-nicks. Stargaze, often. Be thoughtful and mindful and perceptive. Say things that make you blush and turn bright red. Keep secrets. Cuddle with those you love. Hug friends. Dance.
Be anything but nice.
For in the end, when your bones turn to dust and your eyes become stars, the worst thing that anyone can say about you is, "Well, she was nice."
Saturday, August 6, 2016
She Was Like The Moon
She was difficult to describe.
Not because she was plain or unremarkable. In fact, quite the opposite.
The fact that she stood out so much, that she was unique, that was what made her almost indefinable.
She was tall. Taller than most women and even most men. She had a long neck, broad shoulders, a strong back, with wide-set hips and legs that could have strangled someone, if she wanted to. Her hair was an odd color, somewhere between dirty blond, rusted orange, light brown or auburn and depending on the light, depending on the time of year or time of day or night, the way she wore it, or her mood, it could change color. Her eyes were the same. One moment they appeared blue, the next green, and the next a cold grey, and at a times a storm gathered in them, filling with dark clouds and streaked with lighting.
These were the features that made her difficult to define.
While her stature could not be ignored, her personality could at times be so reserved and almost meek that one could spend an entire evening in the same room as her, even be introduced to her, and at the end of the evening forget that she was ever there, ever part of it.
In other instances, and for reasons that were difficult to determine, some men and women would become taken by her and could think of nothing but her for hours, days, or weeks after meeting her, or sometimes just seeing her.
On some occasions when she felt particularly spirited, her laugh could fill an entire room and her voice, loud and somewhat raspy, made what she had to say seem more powerful, more interesting, than it really was.
She was not outgoing, nor was she shy. She seemed to encompass both personalities simultaneously while adjusting her level of confidence at each turn depending on her audience.
She liked to sit in the corner of rooms, at the end of bars, with her back against a wall, watching people for long periods of time, deciding who to talk to, what to say and when to say it. At times she said nothing at all. Her silence carried more weight, more meaning, than most people's words and she could convey with her chameleon eyes what others needed thousands of words to express.
She would listen to other people, hear their thoughts, opinions, hopes and fears and use this information to play on people's emotions. She could craft an entire perceived version of herself to match the wants and needs of whoever she was with, and this was what made her dangerous.
Dangerous, and difficult to describe.
Like the moon, she was always changing. Always controlling the tides of those around her, even when she didn't mean to.
Not because she was plain or unremarkable. In fact, quite the opposite.
The fact that she stood out so much, that she was unique, that was what made her almost indefinable.
She was tall. Taller than most women and even most men. She had a long neck, broad shoulders, a strong back, with wide-set hips and legs that could have strangled someone, if she wanted to. Her hair was an odd color, somewhere between dirty blond, rusted orange, light brown or auburn and depending on the light, depending on the time of year or time of day or night, the way she wore it, or her mood, it could change color. Her eyes were the same. One moment they appeared blue, the next green, and the next a cold grey, and at a times a storm gathered in them, filling with dark clouds and streaked with lighting.
These were the features that made her difficult to define.
While her stature could not be ignored, her personality could at times be so reserved and almost meek that one could spend an entire evening in the same room as her, even be introduced to her, and at the end of the evening forget that she was ever there, ever part of it.
In other instances, and for reasons that were difficult to determine, some men and women would become taken by her and could think of nothing but her for hours, days, or weeks after meeting her, or sometimes just seeing her.
On some occasions when she felt particularly spirited, her laugh could fill an entire room and her voice, loud and somewhat raspy, made what she had to say seem more powerful, more interesting, than it really was.
She was not outgoing, nor was she shy. She seemed to encompass both personalities simultaneously while adjusting her level of confidence at each turn depending on her audience.
She liked to sit in the corner of rooms, at the end of bars, with her back against a wall, watching people for long periods of time, deciding who to talk to, what to say and when to say it. At times she said nothing at all. Her silence carried more weight, more meaning, than most people's words and she could convey with her chameleon eyes what others needed thousands of words to express.
She would listen to other people, hear their thoughts, opinions, hopes and fears and use this information to play on people's emotions. She could craft an entire perceived version of herself to match the wants and needs of whoever she was with, and this was what made her dangerous.
Dangerous, and difficult to describe.
Like the moon, she was always changing. Always controlling the tides of those around her, even when she didn't mean to.
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