Who is Arthur?

Today I met Arthur in scrubs. Otherwise known as a 6ft 6 inc gentle giant consultant who looked after my “one stop shop” care today.
Does that include dinner and “coffee”?! I thought.
L will know that I have a strange attraction for intellectual gentle giants. There is nothing flash or in your face about them but I always seem to connect to them. The doctor, the writer, the editor……

They seem to turn up in moments when I least expect them and provide me with a smile as they awkwardly chat. Their social skills always slightly missing as they live so high up in the clouds.

Obviously doctor/patient was a completely different thing. But as he gently pushed my hair to one side and was feeling my neck I had to remind myself that this wasn’t one of those many fantasies that live inside my mind but in fact a real life examination to make sure I was fit and healthy.
3 hours later I left Mr Whippys with a good to go but we will monitor you. I will see you for a repeat appointment in a few months to check on things.

Can I fantasise that as a second date? Fock it yes I can 😊 We have to find our happiness wherever we can in these crazy ltimes.
Im beginning to feel more frivolous as I adjust to not having to be the good parent every single day and instead just being an independent woman who likes having fun.

As for gentle giant Arthur, he is almost the equivalent of the infamous porno secretary who removes her glasses and lets her hair cascade down in a wanton manner. My gentle giants are the intellects that seem to have the potential and promise of something more primal hidden beneath all their serious clever. I love the idea of that. Can the two things exist alongside each other?
I guess it’s the perfect version for me intellectual porn that is so attractive in being able to connect on a level beyond Neanderthal but with a little throw down Christian Grey style.
There is something much more sexy for me in it being hidden away and not very obvious under all that logic.

In reality the Arthurs always become my friends. The initial attraction of imagining what lies beneath never materialises as they hold all their thoughts and emotions inside and that drive to throw down just isn’t quite there.
I’m always left with a really beautiful and interesting friend which is probably much longer lasting but in a romantic relationship would always leave me frustrated.

Besides at this point I’m looking for something different.
I don’t want anything that is going to impede on my freedom. I want something where I can retain my own life and be who I am and let them do the same.
Being able to enjoy the pleasure of being with someone else while being free to do my own thing.
I’m not sure if that’s even possible.
But I do know that I have no wish to compromise in that.

And hopefully there will always be Arthur’s out there to make me smile and be my friends.

Teenage boy dreams

Tonight I needed something to distract me so I’m reading and writing about nothing.

Firstly .. I was helping P with all the stuff he needed to sort out for his new job. Yes good news, half decent money and a little good feeling about himself. Progress. Although as we were trying to sort stuff I was trying not to laugh and he could see that and therefore was getting more annoyed with me.
I think these are the moments when I realise what a pampered life he had with me. I took care of absolutely everything. As he got pissed off and stressed about the little bags of stuff that needed to be filled with a couple of medical bits (I’ve had more intricate hand luggage toiletry bags when I’ve been on an overnight flight) I was busy cutting up bar codes and trying to keep him from exploding. He’ll be great chatting to people as he is very friendly and likeable but all this practical stuff.. it feels like he is rebuilding St. Paul’s cathedral.
He is a really intelligent man who is knowledgable on so much. I’ve seen him talk to those educated uni types with fancy job titles who have instantly talked down to him as though he must be as thick as shit, and are then left with nothing to contribute as he talks effortlessly about London history and architecture or worldwide history and politics or anything else that captures his interest. Or seen him become an international diplomat with cab drivers and waiters and bar staff of the world as he connects with them through the international language of football. Its beautiful to listen to. There is a confidence that hides underneath him which has over time been pushed down in this modern world where no one really talks about anything of any substance.
His cab was his bubble where he could have interesting conversations. He loved chatting with tourists and I imagine they loved talking with him. Getting the real deal as they say.
I grew up having so many interesting chats with him. He knows facts and I know feelings.
I think he would actually make a brilliant teacher for disengaged teenage kids. He would have more in common with them than he would with other teachers and those kids would relate to him on a level that would be helpful rather than those teachers that try to be “cool and down with the kids” but are usually completely clueless. He has the same frustrated rebellious don’t give a shit attitude as the kids with lots of hidden potential and they would relate to. Plus he’s a blokes bloke so he would laugh with them in the same way he does with his mates like they are all still 18 years old.
They can talk a lot of shit. They defy Darwins theory of evolution. Their boyish charm I suppose.
Anyways eventually I left him to it. It felt a bit like leaving him to sort Christmas. Where’s the turkey?!

I was also thinking about my appointment at the hospital in the morning. I finally started with a little self care 2 weeks ago when I visited the GP with the lump in my neck that has got bigger. They fast tracked me to tomorrow morning for a scan and that thing they put down your throat. I am sure it will be fine.
I’ve been really tired a lot and put it down to stress but just to be safe and sound I decided I should get it checked and so did the GP. The original Harley street doctor (that was free through my then job so you didn’t have any time out of that dealing room) that first clocked it when I was younger and told me to always get it checked for any changes. There are so many lymph nodes that they can easily become cancerous he said. Nice thought to carry along. Too much complication to have it removed they said so this will be my forth check in 20 years. I always feel a little anxious. Perhaps because I never want to be complacent.
I am without car as I have lent it to P for his job so he said he will drive me.
Sometimes life feels so very strange.

Anyways my distraction was star signs. I started reading about them in more detail which made me laugh so much especially as me and P are the same star sign and we could not be any more different.
I found myself reading other ones and thinking he is more like a Sagittarius and I feel like a Libra with a bit of Scorpio and a bit of cancer and a bit of Pisces, and a bit of Virgo
In other words it all felt like a lot of bollocks the more I read. A bit like going to a fortune teller and them saying you will meet a mysterious stranger 😂 is there any other kind. … For Scorpio it’s you are very passionate and love sex. Wow yes I do. And I do wake up every morning thinking like a teenage boy 😂 is every teenage boy a Scorpio?
In fact it turns out that every other star sign loves sex too, would you believe it?! Perhaps I will start wearing pvc and cracking my whip so that I can fit in yet another box. Anyways it made me laugh and on that note and I will go to sleep ..
Teenage boy dreams await 😊

Light it up!

Amazing what getting wasted can do once in a while.
I think life has been so full on for me with so many pressures piled high on top of me that I have been completely buried underneath them all.
I may have embarrassingly had a good old rum fuelled blub in the middle of the high street but I sure do feel better a couple of days on.
Feeling a rising confidence in the woman I am.
Having read a few thoughts from my sweet friend who held my hand, I found myself feeling lucky in moving back into a period of freedom where the choices I now make are driven by me and me alone.
I can’t remember a time when I had the ability to be so in control of my own life and choices.
Skint I may be but I’m resourceful.
And despite all these restrictions once again being put in place I don’t give a shit.
I’m tired of being restricted in what I can or can’t do. I’ve done or am doing all the things required of me and I feel I can look in the mirror and feel like I’ve lived my life in a way I can feel proud of. There is nothing cheap about me. I have never been bought. And my moral compass is in tact. Not that I care about others judgements anymore.
I have always been a good and loving mum and a good and loving person. Never walked over anyone, never used anyone. Always loved and cared about other people and I always try to take care of others especially if they are in need.
But I no longer have to worry about the sensible plan. And I can throw away the ticking clock. Time is my own. Whatever I do or don’t have time to do, I have done most things that I set my heart on.
Having my girl being the big one and how lucky I feel in that. She is awesome!
And I did take a risk in love. I felt it in a way that gave me butterflies and I went for it. Like a crazy girl maybe but who wants to just be normal.
And even though they didn’t take that same risk back it doesn’t matter. Regret what you do not what you don’t.
There are still responsibilities but they are gradually easing. I felt completely worn out last week. 19 years of putting another person first and making sure her life was the best it could be has been exhausting. I gave it my everything. And I feel super proud of that. Every time I talk to her on the phone and hear her throwing herself into something else that’s new I grin from ear to ear. It was all worth it. Every ounce of blood, sweat and tears.
All the risks I took in allowing her to feel free and not holding her back have helped her to create her own happiness and then share it with me. Love that she chooses to share it with me. Could not wish for any more in love.

But now I’m starting to see the freedom I have to seek out the pleasures in my own life.
They may look a little harder to come by right now in this strange and crazy time but I have nothing to lose. My life is my own and I can do whatever I like without feeling any guilt or shame.

And where there is a will there is definitely a way for me.
My friend asked if it is true what they say about Scorpio’s.
Ive never paid much attention to this stuff but I looked it up.
Passionate people who throw ourselves mind body and soul into everything we do, are loyal and full of mysterious hidden depths.
We know how to create fireworks.

Well that certainly sounds true.. I have passion running through my veins and it is the season of fireworks.

I think I’m starting to feel ready to light this sky up and reveal what I’m made of.

The bridge to a new season

I vaguely remembered crying the other night but then questioned if it was part of a dream I had.
As I cried someone I trust held my hand.
I don’t remember why I cried but grief and loss, hurt and sadness and a sense of aloneness in feeling I don’t quite fit in this world because I care so much, would have all been swirling somewhere in the mix.
With enough booze consumed like an Irish navvy (I feel my grandad would give me permission to say that as it describes him perfectly) I was able to share those tears rather than hide them. I may not remember anything beyond my hand being held but I do remember feeling safe and warm and cared about.

On my way that morning I noticed a poem on the tube, just as I travelled through Blackhorse Road station where my Nan and Grandad lived.
It was written by an Irish poet. I loved it so much I took a photo.

“Note – Leanne O’Sullivan.

If we become separated from each other this evening try to remember the last time you saw me and go back and wait for me there.
I promise I won’t be very long, though I am haunted by the feeling that I might keep missing you, with the noise of the city growing too loud and the day burning out so quickly.
But let’s just say it’s as good a plan as any.
Just once let’s imagine a word for the memory that lives beyond the body, that circles and sets all things alight. For I have singled you out from the whole world, and I would – even as this darkness is falling, even when the night comes where there are no more words, and the day comes when there is no more light.”

My day was spent in the most beautiful place with a truly wonderful and thoughtful friend that I love. It held everything I could wish for, was the perfect place to be, in the overlap of the seasons and allowed me in that moment to be the carefree and happy young dreamy girl that always lives quietly hidden inside me.

Gosh

A random post today as something captured my attention. It happens sometimes when something or someone fascinates me.

Today I discovered Romain Gavras, a French/Greek filmmaker, as I lay on the settee listening to music. Initially I was led there purely by chance and randomness. But as I watched Gosh I felt it resonate with me on some level.

I couldn’t even tell you how, other than it was interesting and it created a reaction in me. It had something to say and it was being said in a way that made me sit up. The accompanying music kept me in there. Wondering what was their intended message versus my own take. I found myself investigating who he is, along with some other offerings of their work.

I think the word Gosh was exactly what filled my head as I watched Born Free and Stress.

I found myself not sure how I felt about the content other than it was certainly powerful. It appears that controversy tends to be a big part of his film making.

A part of me wishes I could unsee what I had seen. I’m not good with violence. But I’m also very real next to the dreamer. They sit side by side. They make the whole me. And as much as I love the fantasy of Disney I also love the grittiness of real. I think there is a purpose in both.

Keeping it Real

It’s 4am. I couldn’t sleep. Too much going round in my head. A big moment of change where I should be feeling a sense of freedom. I’m not.

Instead I’m feeling rooted to a place of helping someone else to try to keep moving forward. They see their life disintegrating before their eyes with no control over anything, feeling like they are completely worthless and trying to find some sense of purpose for being in this world.
This fucking unforgiving world where people don’t give a shit about each other. Climbing over each other and stabbing each other in the back all for the sake of a pound note.

Seeing someone’s livelihood being taken away over time has been difficult. The final nail with corona. Feeling first hand what that frustration has looked like. All that anger misplaced in someone who cared.
Regrets a plenty in that but it’s impossible to turn the clock back.
And yet I am still very protective knowing that at his root he is one lifes proper good guys.
Life has fucked him over and I am part of that too.
Not intentionally but I have to own my share in it.

I’ve written about this before but I’m saying it again just for P.
I heard some people talking about black cab drivers the other day on the radio as though they were pieces of shit. Glad they have lost their jobs they said. Why would someone say that? You realise these are just normal people like you and me. With bills to pay and families.
Believing the hype and media that paints them as racist luddites.
Who owns the media?
How many cab drivers have you actually met?
We just swallow a version because someone tells us.
The truth is these cab drivers are just another victim of this world of control where those at the top need to own everything. Those cabbies were one of the few relics of an age gone by when people actually had control of their own lives. You kids won’t even know what that looks like.
But Imagine .. If they worked hard enough they could earn a decent wage to look after their families. Working unsociable hours away from their loved ones and often with drunken and rude people to contend with, but they had the ability to try to provide the best life they could for their kids.
Only people don’t like that. You’re only cab drivers whereas I work in an office. Why should you earn the same as me and not have some arsehole telling you what to do.
People talking about them as though they are a lesser breed from some stereotype they read.
Actually anyone could do the knowledge to become a cabbie. There’s no entry requirement as there is in many other professions where privilege makes that journey a little easier. No distinction in the knowledge between black or white, man or woman, Christian or Muslim, abled or disabled. If you were willing to put that 3 years of work in (is that the equivalent of a degree?) While doing all sorts of other shit jobs while you studies, then anyone could do that job and with hard work earn a decent wage.

Of course like any profession there are some arseholes. Got any in your offices? But the ones I know, and I know quite a few, are really good people who look out for others and are generous with what they have and are decent human beings.

I wonder what would happen if we suddenly had uber lawyers? Although of course that will never happen because those lawyers will know how to enforce the law to protect themselves. Where as for the lowly cabbie, who gives a fuck about what laws were flouted in the name of control. If you want to know what quietly corrupt and underhanded politics, business and media looks like in countries like ours then here is a good starting point. Because be under no illusion, while we laugh at other countries with their crazy dictators, we have our own hidden issues. How easily the wool is pulled over our eyes. We believe anything if we receive a £10 off discount with it.
Who wants to pay the price that things are really worth. Let’s Instead pretend that we are all for equality by paying people a pittance for driving us round. Could not feel any more the opposite of equality. Whose really benefiting? The only equality here is in those Uber drivers also being shafted.
Knowing the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Remember that in years to come when your kids and grandkids also feel the progress of that philosophy.

In p’s case there is a need to just keep him going for now. One day at a time. To not let him be swallowed up in the sadness of his dad and the loss of his livelihood. Looking for other jobs but feeling like he has been thrown on a scrap heap.
I get why he is really feeling the sadness in the disappearance of his girl who created meaning and happiness in his world.
In short right now he just needs some kindness and care. We all deserve some of that don’t we?!

I looked for a little myself as I thought I would take advantage of the free counselling service through my work. 6 free sessions. I just needed a safe place to share.
What I got was a robotic cbt therapist who was going to fix it all in session 1. All I needed to sort my life out was to become more like her by investing in this book on change, take up yoga and meditate and watch Brene Brown on utube. Never had I felt so patronised and been less heard and less understood.
Of course my politeness kicked in as I thanked her for her time and took the responsibility of it not being for me.
I’m sure she walked away feeling like she would have changed my world if only I were ready.
If nothing else it did remind me that I was pretty good at that job and perhaps at some point I will find my way back to it.

So instead I found myself sharing with a friend. Only because they had provided permission in asking and saying it wasn’t a burden. After I sent my thoughts I immediately wished I hadn’t but it was too late. I felt stupid. Why? I’m not really sure.
When they replied I felt less stupid. I did feel as though they got it. Well definitely more than that counselling bird. And I also think they have an awareness that the men who inhabit my world aren’t that middle class type who are in touch with their feminine side and love to talk emotions.
Anyways I’m not sure how much it really helped other than to not feel completely isolated in my thoughts but It did leave me wondering about part of their response. They saw more of who I am to others and who I am to myself.
I know how a lot of people perceive that and I guess in some ways it’s my blind side.
How am I to myself?

Yesterday Morning I commented to one of my besties on her new what’s app profile pic. She had changed it. it was in black and white and she was wearing a really pretty dress, her hair looked really nice and she looked so happy.
She’s had some sadness recently and I loved seeing her so smiley and also as I said to her, looking like a beautiful and glamorous movie star.
Her response was to laugh.. “hardly babe”
Actually she looked every inch the movie star with oodles of charisma. I told her to accept the compliment and run with it.
She messaged me back in the evening to say “ I ran with it. And I had a really lovely day today babe”. It made me smile so much. I proper love her. Little things like that make my days.

I received a picture of a swimming pool in Bolivia from a friend of mine. I love swimming and this pool was like a beautiful well placed puddle surrounded by a pastel landscape that looked like a dream. It can’t really exist can it. But I let her know I’m available should she ever plan on swimming there herself.
I have realised lately how my life has allowed very little time for investing as much as I would wish in friendships. I just don’t have that mountain of friends like others. But the ones I have are really special to me. I’d do anything for them.

The truth is being a mum has taken most of my time and attention. Working so hard behind the scenes to try to help pave the way for her dreams. working hard for money to provide opportunities. No one has ever given me a step up. It’s all been off my own back. Seeing her off to university on Sunday was a moment of quiet celebration.
For her in all her efforts to get there and for me in feeling like I had managed to give her what she needed from me.
Feeling like I had done a good job. Despite all the struggles, and the sacrifices and the fuck ups.. I only ever wanted to be a good mum. Not always easy to do that every single day or even every other day. 6899 days to be precise. Days that are filled with a whole lot of other life too. And balancing it all out in a way that doesn’t affect her. Of course it affected her. Im only human. Trying my best. Doing it in the only way i know how. Trying not to fuck it up but without question fucking it up.
Maybe I should have read all those books. But let’s face it, life doesnt care about the theory and it’s impossible to be flawless in this. It’s fucking life. You make choices and sometimes they pay off and sometimes they are completely fucking disastrous but no one fucks up intentionally. And despite all mine she still found her way to a happy new moment of independence. I hope that all of that effort and care and importance I had placed on just trying to make her feel safe, happy and loved just as she is has played a part in that. How beautiful to see her reaching out on her own and following a path of her own choosing. Three days in I am already seeing her confidence growing. She has hit the ground running. My once very quiet and shy girl who laughed all the time, loved to be twirled and happily sang to herself as she was pushed along in her buggy has found her voice in a new place and is making friends all over campus.
Her first moment in singing for her vocal coach was met with cheers from other students which she said gave her a feeling that perhaps she deserved to be there. You deserve to be there I said.
She was positively glowing as she chatted.
I know her well and have no doubt she will have a run in with home sickness at some point, but right now she is embracing it in every way. Throwing herself out there.
I feel emotional as I write this in feeling so very proud of who she is. I could not feel luckier in life than being a part of her journey.
Of course I miss her. Goes without saying.
I’m her mum and I’ve put my heart and soul into being that. And just for a second in the early hours of this morning before life starts demanding more of me again, I just need to be able to feel that.
To pause and take a breath and have a little cry before I keep on going.

Rise of the Hidden Woman

I posted this earlier and then removed it shortly after, when I realised that my rise was followed very closely by a little fall again in confidence. Slowly does it. But I decided to repost, as this morning I felt stronger which means I’m heading in the right direction and that feels worth noting..

Today I woke up not feeling small but with a quiet and gentle power surging through me.

To fall all the way back down to the very place I started, right down at the bottom where it was hard to see a way out and feeling exactly the same as in that time gone by, has required something bigger to get back up again.
I feel myself rising again.
But this time I’m rising like a woman with the same big heart of that girl.

People underestimate what they can’t see, don’t have and don’t understand.
I underestimated myself.

But the element of surprise is everything….

The Somebody

The other week when I visited family I was reminded that I think too much, I’m too sensitive and I need to care less. I know it came from a place of wanting me to get to my happiness but I really wasn’t in the mood for that feeling of being an idiot for caring because other people don’t.
I get it. I know it. Some people don’t give a shit.
Good for them!
But am I supposed to aspire to be like them too?!
My girl came out of her placid place and batted it back with force “Thats what makes my mum so lovely”
She raised a couple of eyebrows.

I remember defending my mum with force once when I was really little and I shouted at my dad to “get out of our home. You don’t live here anymore”
I did a Wonder Woman twirl before I ran up the stairs to where he was shouting at my mum and stood there “big”. I remember his face was so shocked in me that he didn’t even react. He just walked back down the stairs and out of our house and never came back again. I can’t remember my response after he left.

Caring too much. A phrase that has been said to me many many times in life by many many different people.
A lifetime of being told
“You’re too sensitive. Stop Caring so much”
You mean stop being me?

Those 3 years at college really put it through its paces. The closest I have come in this life to putting myself first. I certainly achieved more and did stuff for me but with massive losses and it’s the least I’ve ever felt like me and the most uncomfortable I’ve ever felt in my own skin. In fact in the end I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I got completely lost in I before being pulled unceremoniously down to the bottom.

I’ve always been a champion of others. Especially the underdog, those that fall through the cracks or are put down. That was who the girl was who walked into that room. And she was very happy being that.

You will never see my feisty side come out as much as if I think people are trying to make me or others look small or inconsequential.
But somehow in that room I lost my ability to do that. I’m still not sure why. Perhaps because in that room we all became children again and my quiet fighting spirit started developing the day my dad walked out of our house.

I always try my hardest to look out for other people and have a real sense of loyalty to people I care about.
Like when someone mentioned something that involved my friend a few weeks back at another friends place. (Although actually I would class those people as acquaintances. Definition of acquaintance.. people I pass time with.
Definition of a friend .. people I love and care about, are important and special, and really mean something to me.

Anyways as she was talking, it started to step on the feelings of a friend of mine who wasn’t there. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and go into protective mode. I was ready to kick their arse if they overstepped. I made a comment about how amazing my friend was as a show that I had her back. The conversation fizzled out.
Don’t ever mess with my friends because I will take you down!
It’s a reason I’m so discerning with who I have around me and spend time with. I am an avoider of conflict. I don’t like it because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I know what that feels like when people hurt mine. It’s not nice.
Perhaps my friend would not have known but I would and in my eyes it’s the same thing.

But of course I see how this world functions. Having each other’s backs is less of a code for many.
In fact it’s even easier with social media now where you can say things that you would never say to someone if they were standing in front of you. A bravery that comes from being hidden behind a screen.
I feel it with my own blog sometimes. Venting in moments about things that I wouldn’t say in real life. It’s the cowards way. Or even in a text message to someone where it feels easier to express what I want to say without them really seeing the hurt that sits behind it.
Its easy to hurt someone else with thoughts and feelings without having to be part of the impact that it has on another if they are right there in front of you.

Having conflicts often just lead to someone getting hurt and the other person not caring. Both people have to care otherwise what is the point. One person is left feeling sad and the other strolls off forgetting about it five minutes later.

So the question then is if someone doesn’t care what is the point of having them in your life at all. No point. It’s all about respect and care and without it you are alone anyways.
And sometimes you have to stand up and be counted and fight for what you believe in. I’m a lover not a fighter but don’t push me in what’s really important.

The other day all of life’s challenges caught up with me. When I think of sorting out all this shit right now it literally is that. P”s dad is very poorly and struggling with the basics. It’s hard to see someone you love and care about deteriorate to a point where it invades his self dignity. I see him disassociating himself from what is happening to him in order to cope. Cancer is the fucking shit.
As I sat at the kitchen table and cried because It all feels so hard and tiring I received a message on my phone from P.
The other day told me Im the kind person he has ever known and that his dad said he likes talking to me. The message contained a poem

I wish I could show you,
when you are lonely or in darkness,
the astonishing light of your own being.
Persian 14th century poet, Hafez.
“Thought it was rather apt for you.”

It made me cry even more because for all that I have found myself fighting through over the past few years I had a moment of feeling like it really counted. That it was’nt all in vain. That I hadn’t lost who I was. That all I was trying to do was valued.
And in that moment I really needed to feel that.

I know that it’s much easier to get whatever i want in life by taking care of Number 1. It’s the easy route.
My dad has always been the shining beacon of that for me. He “has it all.” Well at least by others standards. He is the type that others would admire and describe as a real somebody. Charming, wealthy with an interchangeable set of young birds through the years and a life well travelled. And yet despite the fact that I will always love him (he’s the only dad I will ever have) I have absolutely zero respect for him. He’s walked over everyone through his whole life to get what he wants including his own kids and mum. What a somebody!!!

He is without question the most vain and self centred person I’ve ever known. And he really would think Carly Simons song was about him. Sometimes even I have to wonder?

I’m not quite sure what my point in saying that is other than to provide a possible explanation for the fact that i I try so very hard to take a very different road. A road that isn’t just about me.

Yesterday I over reacted to a friends thoughts. I had that very same response of feeling like an idiot because I care. I went back all guns blazing in feeling small only to find that i had misunderstood. Nerves were touched showing that sensitivity that Ive constantly been criticised for.
But in that moment I also remembered that although on the surface I might look so much less than the average persons version of what a somebody looks like, I also hold a very different view. My version of a somebody is about how they treat others. That holds way more weight and value than all that other superficial shit that just leaves you surrounded by superficial people.
Because life is unpredictable especially the older we get and the more responsibilities we have and when the shit hits the fan and perhaps life throws a few curve balls where life is not quite so amazing, all those hanger onners disappear to something more sparkly. But I’m the friend that will still be around looking out for you and having your back.
And believe me, as someone who has felt a few curve balls all Hit me at once, know the value of those people who have my back.

They aren’t the nobodies. They are the somebodies, the everybodies.,

And I am a somebody too!