Here We Go With the Rest of Our Lives

I've learned that life, in general, is a bitch.  Everybody is fucked.  We all have shit to deal with and we all think our situation is the worst.  We're all pretty much right. 

So what can we do?  I suppose we make the best of it.  Laugh our way through this shit. So that maybe in the end, we can reflect back and say, "Meh, it wasn't all that bad."

"So I've been thinking a lot lately,"  I hate to start out with that line.  It sounds so cliche because, well, it fits the definition of cliche.  Everyone on earth does "a lot of thinking," all the time.  No one is really happy with their situation, always wanting to make it better, take it to the next level, what have you.  So excuse my inability, or just distaste, to break from the norm.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how I used to write in this thing.  I used to bitch about pink shirts, the OC, and God forbid, alcohol.  Looking back at what I used to say, it's really kind of embarrassing.  Who was I to judge what people wore?  Who was I to say what is and isn't worthy of being watched on tv?  Who was I to tell people that they shouldn't be drinking?  To keep it short, I simply thought I was better than everyone else.

Basically, what I've come to decide is this: everyone is going to do whatever they want.  That's a phrase I would've said 2 years ago, only then, it would've had a snappy, biting tone to it.  Now it doesn't.  Now I understand that not everyone needs a babysitter.  Not everyone needs to be told what I do and don't approve of.  Everyone has hundreds of choices thrown at them and it's up to them, not me, to make the decisions.

I think that often times, people forget that they're not the only one on earth who has shit going on.  We forget that our friends, parents, and that guy who scanned us out at the grocery store has just as many worries as us.  In short, I think we all just get preoccupied with ourselves and focus too much on our goals, on our wants and our dreams.  Maybe I'm the only one.  Maybe I'm not.

At Stuco camp (before you ask how it was, it sucked.  Let's leave it at that) they made us write down our "dreams" and say them in front of the camp.  While some involved their pursuits for the best college, others involved just getting to college.  When I thought about mine, I had a really rough time.  It's not something I've ever really thought about.  My dreams...hell, I don't even know what I want for lunch today, how the hell am i supposed to have my life goal planned out by age 18?  I resolved to put down something about what I want to be grew up which was specifically:   Something having to do with business...maybe...

But see?  That's bullshit.  I don't know if I want to go into business for sure!  That's probably what I'll end up doing, but I certainly don't want something that obscure, that vague to be my life goal.  My "dream." 

So I focused on what I did for sure want.  Nothing toO specific necessarilly, just what I knew I absolutely wanted to have.  And in the end, it was just to have a family.  That's all i really care about.  Hell, money doesn't matter that much to me anyways.  Shit, more often than not, money can deter happiness.  My .02 cents.

So whatever I guess.  We all just have to keep going.

You see, I used to be "good".  I used to have a really strong faith life.  I used to wonder who I was.  I used to really want to matter.  My biggest fear was being forgotton by the world I would someday leave. I used to live with passion and I used to consider myself a full person.

I hated the idea of becoming another average joe who had 3 kids, a dog and lived in an above sized home in a normal town like San Jose, California or Lincoln, Nebraska. I had an arrogance about me that made me believe that I was somehow better than that.  I was above that kind of life because I was Drew Lewis and I was different.

And then one day, for whatever reason, that passion and arrogance disappeared.  I decided that that type life was a waste of time.  That I couldn't change anything because I was too small.  That looking at the sky was a waste of time because it wasn't fun.  That wondering about God was pointless because I wouldn't know anything until I was dead anyways.  That being remembered is futile because no matter what, I'll eventually be forgotton. And besides, by the time I have to be "remembered" it won't matter to me, because again, I'll be dead.  I decided that one day, in about 60 or so years, I was going to die and that I didn't have time to think.  Instead, I had to experience joy and happiness no matter what.

So I did, and for what it's worth, I had fun.