Even solid gold gets old after a while – time being the ultimate equalizer, no matter how pure or whole any element might be. My own golden trappings of this summer are much flimsier than just about any other sort of gold, assembled from the deepest and darkest recesses of the attic wardrobe and supplemented by the nonsensical sparkle of Amazon junk. At this stage, I’m ready to tear off all the golden masks and scratchy sequins, starting over from a place of minimalist majesty. Of course, I always say this, and the stripped-down bare-bones version of me never lasts – my preference for all that is extra invariably returns to rear its ugly insistent head; proof that fighting who you are is a losing, futile, worthless battle.
Perhaps we should be throwing away all the guises we assume to please others – the roles we feel we should be playing to be more acceptable – more loved – in the world. Maybe that’s the real garbage in our lives, these ideas that we should try to fit in and be like everybody else. What a stupid thing to desire – and how difficult it is to not want for the comfort of it. I’ve always considered myself a bit stronger than most when it comes to that – able to defiantly march to my own beat, in my own strange sense of style but even I know it’s often easier to make my way through the average day in jeans and a t-shirt than some sparkling golden ensemble that practically glows in the dark. There are more than enough battles to be waged – battles that will be thrust upon us without say or choice – why would we create any more?
That said, I still want to sparkle – and I will always want to sparkle – and I’m going to throw away all that ever inhibits that from happening.
