New Haven, MI
Journey to Michigan
After having an afternoon discussion of contradiction about, once again, the future Chris decided to simplify my life by inviting me out to a bar.
I had a few drinks there, and there was a girl there that was convinced I should not to go to Michigan that night, even to the point of buying me Whiskey shots to drink with her. So, I decided to stay and drink. So, we did our shots and talked. Then there was a big boom.
Chris and a girl broke a table in half. Everybody applauded. The bartenders came over and were pretty mad and made them pay $50 to replace it. It was kind of a downer for a night. I wasn't sure if I was sober or not, but I was sober enough. So I decided I wasn't going to ruin my evening. I figured it couldn't be any rougher then 8 mile.
New Haven, MI
When I finally got to my aunts house, it wasn't as bad as I thought. Long, snow fields. Lots of land. A barn. A quaint house. Not too different then where I'd like to grow old.
I talked with my cousin a bit about programming, and my other cousin about music. I met some of my very young relatives and played some games with them for a few hours. Hung out with a local band for a while and talked music. None of those, however, are what started me thinking.
And I do have something on my mind.
I've got something on my mind.
I talked with my aunt about things nobody usually talks about.
You know, things families usually avoid.
The past.
I learned a lot about why things are the way they are. I learned about why I am different. I learned how it happened.
I learned why it's not going to happen to me.
And it's all the same thing. It's the same stuff that got me upset in Missouri. It's the same thing I'm writing my CD about.
Self-value.
I've come to a conclusion on being crazy. Everybody is crazy. But you have a choice every single day, in every single decision on how you act on it. You can hold yourself back, or let yourself go forward. You can cry, or you can work. You can sit and die, or you can live. In the worst and most painful moments, they are the times you need to march on the most.
I can't say if I'm proud of my family for the decisions they have made. Of the roads they chose. They are so different then my own. It'd be easy to say, well, that's there life. Just like Amanda said to me, it's her life. But it's not just her life. She's having a kid. My parents had a kid too. I had to deal with the results of their decisions, just as Amanda's child will have to deal with hers.
I just know that I'm not passing this down to the next generation. My mom was afraid, my grandmother was afraid. But I am not afraid.