Hope is here in a plastic box

There are so many things we spend our existence trying to get people to notice. Outward appearance is so meticulous, with so much of time spent on hair and clothing and the right facial expressions to make at the right place we want to be seen at. Posture and smiles and gazes are all analyzed on a daily basis and apparently seem to reveal so much about a particular individual. If a picture is bad, we delete it; after all, we wouldn't want something tarnishing the way we want to be seen. Someone will wear a certain band's logo or a certain designer label as if to let it speak for them; to say "hi, this is me" without ever becoming audible. Sometimes it's like habits seem perfected by people, as if to appear better on the outside. I've said it multiple times before, but I hate perfection. There's beauty in the breakdown. I thrive truth, good or bad, because it's REAL. It's not a fairy tale or a false facade someone puts on to impress, but it's the gritty reality. And sometimes reality can be beautiful in a way if you look hard enough.

I think the things that speak the most aren't the most obvious, the ones we haven't spent time on, but are just so genuine and unique that you know they had to be natural. The way the last letter of your signature always dips the same amount below the signing line. The way your nail polish is always chipped on one hand more than the other. The way you grip your steering wheel on the turns but the rest of the time use it as a percussion instrument along with the beat of the song that's playing. The way you always pray over your meal, closing your eyes in reverence while we're about to eat fast food, even if no one else does. The way your voice takes this serious tone if you sense that anyone isn't feeling well and you truly want to help them. The way your room looks messy but you can locate everything perfectly. The way you mark your silverware with pink nail polish on the handles so that when we use it at enormous family-reunion dinners, you get yours back. The way you always let that person cut in front of you when driving and you never say anything negative, you just let them. The way you tuck in someone's tag when it's showing. The way that you will leave little notes of encouragement everywhere for people to find. All these things- they're not obnoxious, they're extremely interesting. There's so many more movements that reveal so much to me, I think, and I don't feel "creepy" for noticing. What seem like little gestures are so much more; small impulsive actions really do speak louder than words. Practiced life is so mundane- I'd much rather learn from observation. Perfection is pointless- real life is much more interesting and practical than a happily ever after.



You know, it's funny, but the only thing that's made me feel at all like I am getting older- no, not college, moving out, turning 18, looking the part or taking on responsibilities-- it's the fact that I'm drinking my coffee nearly black now.