Sometimes In The Morning I Am Petrified And Can't Move, Awake But Cannot Open My Eyes, And The Weight Is Crushing Down On My Lungs

--"A Better Son/Daughter", Rilo Kiley

I was watching The Hill88's video about the reason why she wakes up every day and was struck by how similar her answer would be to my own if I were to ever formally ruminate on my own reason for getting up every morning. Not only do I consider her answer an honest portrayal of how confusing the search for one's meaning is, devoid of any artifice or sugar-coating, it is also very concise about how really sad that quest can get. I don't normally recommend other people's posts because I always strive to make this site about being as original as possible and sometimes it bothers me when people's post consists of numerous links to other people's works, but hers is one post that really lit a particularly bright spotlight on my life. Check it out, if you have the opportunity.

One line in particular struck a chord with me. In answer to the question of what motivates her to start her day she answers, "I guess I'm just getting up so that one day I'll actually have a reason to." I identify with that answer completely. I do not have one reason, one goal, or one person I look forward. I don't have a big plan for my future that I spend each day chipping away at. It scares me that there are days when I feel helplessly lost and without purpose, that I'm just going through the motions of living a life. That thought scares me more than anything because the majority of people I know seem to have their acts more together than I do. I see my friends actually building towards a future they can be proud of. I see acquaintances taking those first few steps towards achieving their dreams. I see my family members doing ever so much better than me. That's when I wonder why I ever do get up each day. What does today hold that I haven't already seen or done yesterday or the day before? Why should I even bother trying today? What makes today so different than all the days that have come before or will come to pass? A lot of the time I cannot think of one thing to differentiate today.

I'm a fretter by nature. That's why I called this site california is a recipe for a black hole. That's why there's a half-dozen people whose nickname for me is Eeyore. But sometimes I think the worry and the fretting is justified. I think without that safeguard of being implicitly displeased with the manner in which my life has turned out I would never get off my butt and attempt to change it. I think without the inherent dissatisfaction I feel with the world, there would be no point in even trying at all. Maybe that is why I get up because I'm not completely happy yet. Maybe it's because I often wake up unfulfilled that I force myself out from beneath the covers at eight in the morning. I think I need that unhappiness, that sadness, that angst in my life to get anything accomplished. After all, it's like I've always said, "only unhappy people write because happy people are too busy being happy to stop and write." Perhaps it holds true for all other aspects of life as well. Perhaps we all need to be those squeaky wheels to get that bit of oil in our lives. I certainly do. It's only when I reach that point where everything is tolerable, when I reach my bliss, that perhaps I'll stop seeing the point of getting going in the morning with such vigor. It's that search for the point in my life where I can honestly proclaim, "now I can die happy," that gets me through life every day.

So, yeah, I totally agree with her. The reason I get up in the morning is because one day I hope to have a reason to be completely happy. There's always room for improvement in some aspect of my life. I could always be a better person in some way to somebody I know, even if that somebody is me. When I reach the point where such improvement is no longer possible, maybe I'll consider sleeping in.

Maybe.

A BETTER SON/DAUGHTER
by Rilo Kiley

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can't breathe
And hope someone will save me this time
And your mother's still calling you insane and high
Swearing it's different this time
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her
And that god never blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things
And crawl back into bed to dream of a time
When your heart was open wide and you love things just because
Like the sick and dying

And sometimes when you're on
You're really fucking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile
And you'll be better
You'll be smarter
More grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you'll be awake
You'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all of your friends
And you'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest
You'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
You'll be happy

Your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below
Your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
And you'll fight it you'll go out fighting all of them

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers