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the story of the suicidal llama.

sometimes you have to be able to lean back and laugh at yourself. no matter what’s wrong, laughing always helps. i’ve learned that over the years, and you can see it when you look at big comedians. they usually have shit lifes. but they turn it into something that makes the world laugh, and forget about how much shit sucks. people that are really good into turning shit into gold make good comedians.

when i was in high school i had a friend i called llama. llama was always depressed. he was short. he was geeky. he wore glasses, and they didnt look very good on him. he was shy and quiet. he didnt stand out in a crowd, a wallflower. but he was a really sweet, caring dude. i got to know him because i wasnt exactly outgoing for a good bit of high school either, unless i was wacked out on cough medicine. but that’s a different story for a different time. when our ninth grade english teacher put us in a group together, we clicked instantly and became very good friends.

llama was a good writer. he wasnt very good at talking and expressing himself, but when you put a pen and paper in front of the kid, he could pour out his heart and make you feel every bit of what he was feeling. llama never wrote anything happy. it was always about the most recent girl to break his heart, the emptiness of being alone, being stuck in his own head, those sorts of things. this was something we had in common, our sorrowful way with poetry and lyrics. we often shared our writings, giving each other criticism and praise accordingly. when the poetry course of our english class came up, we were both excited. we liked to share our writing, but both of us were shy and embarrassed, even though truth be told neither of us had anything to be worried about. we had an assignment where we had to write a couple poems to turn in, and pick one of them to read aloud in class. llama was nervous. he wasnt used to vocalizing his feelings. people didnt notice him, much less how miserable he was. so, right before it was his turn to read his poem outloud, i spoke outloud, “mrs. lister, put this kid on suicide watch. just listen to his stuff. he’s gonna kill himself man. best watch out. just listen. listen.”

now, this might seem like a bitch move. it might seem like i was making fun of him. and i sort of was. but i wasnt. and he knew it. he knew we were both just as unhappy and pathetic as each other, so i understood. i wasnt really making fun. he read his poem, and realized how true my joke sounded. and he laughed. yeah, it sucked, but he was looking at the negatives. sometimes, you just have to laugh at yourself. that’s the day his name evolved from just llama, to suicidal llama.

years later, he told me i was one of the two friends he had, that kept him living thru high school. i’m glad i “made fun” of llama. he learned to laugh at himself. and i think that’s something everyone should take a lesson from. stop whining, step back, look at yourself from an outside point of view, and just laugh your guts out, if only for a few minutes. i promise, you’ll feel better.

#blogging

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fuck food tonight. instead, nicotine, marijuana, riddlin, painting, and working out. yeah. sounds good.

#blogging