by T. Ripton
This isn’t a last-ditch effort from a dying girl attempting to placate her own woes or worries. This essay is written in celebration. I say this unlike most all others have ever said or meant it before: in the most non-religious sense but … It’s time to leave the dead to bury the dead.
Long live those who insist upon dancing, especially while the rest pretend they’ve no choice but to toil. Long live the actual thinkers, who highlight the human brain (and the mind) as worth more than a salary and energy as worth more than some meaningless task at hand. Long live those who couldn’t ever be bought. Long live whoever’s out there that is actually alive.
Long live those who could never express all of what’s inside them with just these meager languages to work with but try endlessly anyway, almost as if someone might care or relate ?. Long live those whose understanding of things like love, joy, empathy, expression, passion, connection, communication, and strength stretch so far beyond the boundaries of modern understanding … acceptance, that people think they are either crazy or headed there. Long live the actual realists.
Long live those who smell shit when they step in it. Long live the ones skating on silver linings in a world laden with stinky shit; still genuinely as happy as they ever should’ve been and always have been. Long live those that carry even sadness with grace, somehow more like a skewed reflection of only happiness itself. Long live the simultaneous, and the stable throughout change. Long live those that can handle the tough shit and face anything forever shining. Long live the beacon in the dark. Long live those who fuel their own fire.
Long live the ones full of more than hope. Long live those full of all the everythings. Long live those who are so much more vast than their physical body, yet do not feel trapped within the bounds of their tangible form. Long live the truly beautiful. Long live those who haven’t a need to break free for they see only open space everywhere they look. Long live those who are always transcending.
Long live those that both hear and listen. Long live those who think before, during, and after they speak. Long live those with no excuses and nothing to live up to.
Long live the ones who don’t humor delusion.
Long live the peaceful until necessary. Long live those who recognize more than time and place. Long live those who remain fully intact to the point of pristine (without a crack) even after constant attempts at being broken in two, after having to break others in the process, and even after eventual physical decomposition itself. Long live those that don’t fear transition … death, because they know they really need only now to live forever. Long live those who inevitably already will.
T. Ripton is 27 years old and lives in Nebraska. The youngest of five children, she is originally from northern Maine but her mother entered the military when she was young so she grew up all around. She loves to write, read, draw, laugh … and a lot of other stuff. She’s had a sweet boyfriend for about 8 years and an awesome dog she’s been loving for about 5. She has 10 nieces and nephews and yes, she tends to agree with Guy McPherson’s outlook for humanity.
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