Tuesday, January 25, 2011

A Death Machine of a Roller-Coaster

that is what life is. Only today I have been perfectly incandescently happy and excited, and also so freaked out I was sure I would never recover from the emotional trauma. And I still sort of feel both of those things, which is wierd. How is it possible to feel those two completely conflicting and extreme emotions at the same time? I am sure that such a concept breaks a few natural laws, but that is really sort of irrelevant, cause I feel that way anyway. And I choose to be okay with that. Because....

Here's the thing. Roller Coasters make me sick. Always. In varying degrees, yes, but sick indeed without fail. But anyone who's ever been to Lagoon/Disneyland/Knotsberry Farm with me knows that I go on them anyway. Because even if you get a little sick, there's nothing quite like the terror of knowing, knowing, that this time is the time the white roller coaster really will fall apart and kill everyone, and there's nothing quite like yelling "SPARTA!" all the way down Ghost-rider even if you do get a concussion on the way. So I guess my point is that life is really unpredictable and it is terrifying, and it really knocks you around a little bit and you might actually throw up, but in the end it's worth it. Because there's no point to an amusement park if you spend the whole time on the merry-go-round and watching everyone else take their life in their hands and have the time of their lives doing it. 

"Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." Don't ask me who said that, I don't know. But I stand by it anyway. Cause life is terrifying and traumatic, and someday the white roller coaster will fall apart and kill everybody, and I could very well be on it when it happens. But I'll take all the nausea (and maybe death) with no hesitation and no regrets as long as I get to keep riding the roller-coasters. 

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thank you for validating my existence, you lovely person!