Every time my journey into the land of the living is delayed
by traffic, weather, or mechanical malfunction, I wonder why I can’t seem to
make any headway in my travels. I am
perpetually reminded that even though I want out, I am stuck in Survivaland: The place where life is replaced by existence
and dreams give way to reality. It’s a
place where the only aspiration is to wake up in the morning, with no greater
ambition than, only to maintain shelter and food. Survivaland is the place where the once aspirational
and idealistic settle. Survivaland is a psychological
continent for people who can’t let go of the wrongs they have committed and those
that have been committed against them.
It’s a realm of past injustices and transgressions. In Survivaland, you
don’t have to live, you just need to exist.
I know about Survivaland.
I’ve been there for years. I’ve been
doing that thing that we do here. In
Survivaland, we wake up early in the morning and get our kids ready for
school. We go to work. We shake hands and make nice with other
people. We take out the trash and do the dishes and
sweep the floors. Not every day, just
the days that courtesy requires us to do so.
Here, we don’t do much. We just survive.
Here, we don’t realize that the key to living isn’t surviving, it’s
letting go.
When you live for survival, you are bound to the things you
can’t let go of. Sometimes you cling to
the best times of your life. Sometimes
it’s the worst memories you have that make you remember. Regardless, you are just breathing one breath
at a time. Day by day is too much to deal with.
So, you don’t do that. In
surviving you become complacent; comfortable.
There is no hope and no future. You
have nothing to look forward to, except Wednesday night when you take out the
trash. Or maybe sweeping the floor for a
last minute guest. The only thing you
have is what has been. And to be quite
honest, what has been means nothing if you can’t let it go.
Some of us can’t let go of the past. We can’t let go of the boy we had a crush on
in college. We can’t let go of the time
the mean girl made fun of us. We can’t
ever forget the people who watched us the time we fell off the curb the first
time we wore high heels. Some of us will
never be able to let go of the first girl who broke our hearts…Or maybe the
last girl who did. We will never be able
to let go of the friend who, as it turned out, couldn’t be a friend to anyone. We can’t let go of the belts or wooden spoons
that our parents disciplined us with. We
can’t let go of the lunches we couldn’t make with our cousins or the times we
got bounced from bars because of the people we love had two more shots than
they needed. It’s fucked up. All of it. It’s fucked up.
Let it go. Let it
fucking go. Whatever it is, LET IT
GO. It’s not worth it. Mean girls and bad boys and friends who don’t
know how to friend. Let them go. The family who turned on you because they
didn’t understand who you are or what you stand for. Let that shit go, too. The friend’s who get too friendly with
bartenders who expect good tips. Those
people are all living in Survivaland.
Let them go. Let it all go.
If you don’t ever experience it for yourself, take it from
me. I’m the girl who can’t let go of
what has been. If I let go of what has
been, I wouldn’t be able to suffer. If I
let go of what was, I wouldn’t be able to live for now. I can’t enjoy life because I am too busy
abusing myself for the indiscretions of my past. I’m the girl who puts on a woman’s facade because
I have too. If I could let it all go, I
wouldn’t live to survive.
Like a sweet sunset in Georgia, Let it go.
Like the fear that grabs ahold ya, Let it go.
LET IT GO...
-Inner Peas
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