POSITIVE SARCASM PRESENTS: FIGHTING THE GOOD FIGHT

Lets set the scene. The only thing preventing me from getting hypothermia at this very moment is a pane of glass and a spontaneous urge to run bare assed into the Atlantic, from where I sit it looks like the end of the world out there, but I figured this is the perfect place to start… 

People spend their whole lives pushing the right causes, fighting greedy establishments tooth n’ nail, standing up for what they believe in. For the most part, they are good people, but along the way, something happens that makes them turn their backs on friends, family and society. Something that questions every value that was drilled into them since birth. Lemme jump to an example: you can only kick a dog so many times before it starts to bare it’s teeth to even the tiniest ray of sunshine, gesture of a hand, or even a harmless infant, you can only keep a person down for so long as well, because eventually,  they stop asking for something and start taking whenever they please. Sometimes what they want is right...other times it's not. Right now as the ocean waves bring in good ideas and remove the bad ones, I wonder how I can easily explain to you the purpose of being a good Samaritan and setting an example of how to do the right things, but at times the fingers on the keyboard seem forced and the thoughts blurred.  

Angels alone can’t fight the good fight. You need assholes. You need Hypocrites. You need the forsaken. Some of the prettiest, most loyal dogs are mix breeds that’ve come from broken homes or were simply abandoned. Some of the prettiest, most loyal humans you will ever meet descend from a similar format. They hold more value in a fight because they can see what’s coming whereas you may not. They can also understand why there is a fight to begin with and don't kid yourself, there is. From the very moment you were rifled out of your mother’s jungle gym, you were confused, angry, scared, crying and covered in blood…like being dragged to the mall on a Saturday morning when all you wanted to do was watch cartoons (minus the blood). Sounds like a fight to me and from that very moment you were taught to stand up like a soldier, understand the difference between good and bad, and pushed into training at the age of 4 or 5. Now whether at that age you were handed a pencil or an AK-47 depends on the country you live in, to me it makes little difference, both require aim, focus, they both leave a mark and will take an eye out. As you get older, you learn shortcuts, quicker or safer ways to get home. You cheat on a test, blow past the speed limit, or lie to a friend. This doesn’t make you an evil person, a delinquent or a hypocrite…it makes you human. I know many people who have made terrible choices in their lives, some minor, some reprehensible. The reason they are still my friends is because they were honest and owned up to all of it without displacing the blame. They’ve “done their time”, they paid their dues, they now deserve the chance to have the life they’ve worked so hard for…doesn’t mean they’ll get it though.

Life isn’t a job; you were drafted. You have to live it, because even if you don’t make it in the end, you may have given others the opportunity to get that little island of happiness. It’s your responsibility to know your place at times and do what is asked of you even if you may not always agree with it, because if you don’t help dig that trench, life is going to shoot the shit out of you and possibly others around you. Get shoveling, bitches. 

I’m no angel in this fight and I’m not supposed to be. That duty wasn’t branded on my ass at birth. I knew fighting life’s evils would require guerrilla tactics; shortcuts, collateral damage and sometimes leaning on others to finish the job. In the end though, I was never bound to become an evil person. As always, I wake up in the morning and start moving, if not for myself then for others. I hold people accountable past, present and moving forward. I treat friends and family like a triage unit at times because after the last couple years of breaking my body and mind down to it’s rawest form, I need to “pack light” in order to soldier forward and seek out what is right in the world.

Eventually, you’ll get tired of being angry or hating some people, places or things and you’ll start forgetting what the hell made you so mad to begin with. Does this mean you forgive and forget those who have done things so very evil in your own life…fuck no. Fuck those people. But you have a job to do and a war to fight and you can’t be dragging all that around with you at all times. It gets heavy. Keep the little things, the tiny trinkets for when you feel like snarling your nose and getting that blood pumping. Being angry is more useful than being depressed. But let me close with this thought. As you continue forward in life, remember that all those that have unapologetically hurt you in your life will get old; begin to lose value in the world market and struggle to move as they once did in their youth. One day, they will die…and the waves will wash away their existence and in time no one will remember them. This alone, should comfort you. 

However, if they deceptively took something valuable of yours, it’s your duty to take it back, because you’re the Asshole…and you don’t take shit from anyone.