Weird.

Life is weird.

Weird like uncomfortable silence. You’re staring at your feet, giggling awkwardly at nothing in particular, desperately trying to think of something – anything to fill the silence with. The other person, equally distressed, rocks back and forth from their heels to their toes while simultaneously questioning everything about their existence. Time is slowing at an alarming rate, every passing second is pure agony, and you have nothing to do but pray that the other will break the speaking fast. It’s a painful, distressing, nearly unbearable experience that somehow leaves both parties feeling like they’ve been through hell and back, and have emerged from the depths hand in hand. We’ve been through this, there’s not much worse out there for us to endure.

Life is weird.

Weird like a long car ride. You’re jammed into a 13 year old rust-bucket with child protection locks on all the windows and only front wheel drive, sandwiched in between that one friend that smells all the time and the guy whose name you keep forgetting because you didn’t really want him to come with, but your other friend felt bad for him and insisted on bringing him along for the ride. Your legs are cramped and stiff, your hair is greasy, your back itches, and with each passing moment, your stomach twists tighter and tighter, groaning obnoxiously for snacks. It’s one big, chaotic road trip chock full of magical moments and not so magical moments all melding together to form the journey from Point A to Point B. If you make it out alive, you’ll be better for it.

Life is weird.

Weird like gas station bathrooms. You try not to touch the walls as you wait your turn to enter the chasm of darkness and suspicious stains. There’s a bearded biker with a ponytail and a neck tattoo in front of you in the line, an unidentifiable liquid spill beneath your feet, and a stagnant reek of artificial cheese that makes the air feel heavy and damp. Torn toilet paper litters the floor, the rusting faucet drips steadily, unceasing, and the image of despair is made complete by the graffiti etched into the dank, spotted mirror. It it horrifying, disgusting – but when you reemerge from the filthy pit, you now know just how strong you are. You have conquered insurmountable things.

Life is wonderful.

Wonderful like the quiet moments on long car rides in between stops at gas station bathrooms. Nothing is perfect, but amidst all the uncomfortable, unsatisfying, non-glamorous bits, you find that the journey itself is perfectly imperfect. The cold wind that rushes through the car window and bites at your cheeks, the tear-filled laughter that erupts spontaneously whilst telling stupid jokes, and the strange stories you have to tell after your unexpected experiences in dirty, rural gas stations all make the trip worthwhile. In all its random encounters, strange occurrences, tough spots, and hard times, life is wonderful. Very weird, but very wonderful.

Live the life. Live it well. Live it weird and find the wonderful.

Gabriella

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