I Am Revolution
I’ve been talking big for years. Growing up, I’d tell my mother,” I’m going places, momma. Just you wait and see. I’m going to be big.”
My first step was to get out of what I like to call, the “wet social rectum of Colorado” that is Longmont. My second step was to move in with stable friends, and maintain a constant financial constant. My third step was to climb the dance scene, and become one of Phunk-E-Elements most notorious go-go dancers. My fourth step was to move to the big city: Denver. My fifth step was to get clean, and leave a life of drugs behind. My sixth step was to move to a nicer apartment, and get a respectable job, that I could be proud of. My seventh step was to get into college. My eighth step was to drop out of college, and find one that better suited my needs. My ninth step…
My next step is undetermined. I’ve been thinking of my next move for months, now. I am just so incredibly indecisive. I lie in my bed at night, and my mind just screams, New York! Miami! San Francisco! Seattle! When in reality, I am too terrified to even think about the consequences of moving to such a large city, without any friends, any connections, anyone at all.
On the other hand, my life has been a horrible shade of taupe. How amazing would an adventure be, right about now? I’ve been looking through old blog entries, and really taking time to myself to figure out what’s going on with my life. After months of being blown off by my “friends”, and never really having anyone that I could constantly trust and confide in, I’ve found that I’m in the perfect position to start a new adventure; to start a personal revolution. I don’t have any real ties to living in Denver, or any personal connections keeping me here. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it kind of feels like a natural step for me.
I had a really hard time when I first moved here. However, through perseverance and constant belief in myself, I created a livable life that I was happy with. Was, being the key word. I think that now, I’m ready for the next step. There has to be more out there, than this daily frustration. As Elle Woods says,” If the fabric doesn’t work with you, then don’t work with the fabric!” So, when you’ve done your best and it just doesn’t work, then move on, and try life somewhere else.
Eric said that I would never leave. He said that I would never leave Denver, for a bigger city, and that I would end up living in Colorado.
Well for some of us, mediocrity doesn’t suffice. He almost made me feel bad for wanting bigger and better things. Hey, if he wants to live the same life of, waking up, Triple Iced Venti Vanilla Latte, driving to Hamburger Mary’s, working, stopping by a friend’s house, doing some drugs, driving home, creeping through the door so that he won’t wake up his mother, and slinking into bed, so be it. Who am I to inflict my personal goals on others? All I know is that I am destined for more. I will not live a lackluster life of tedious, wearisome, monotony. I’m better than that.
I’m not saying that I won’t come back. I don’t even know if I’m leaving. What I do know, is that I am going to make some big changes. In fact, I’ve already started.
Matty B.
Bottom on Top?
Not days before my roommate and I decided that I was to move out at the end of the month, I finally unpacked my last few boxes: one of which containing my old computer, that I haven’t used in almost a year.
I sat there for hours, looking at old pictures of past friends; at my past life. As I scanned the folders full of pictures of me and my “best friends” dancing at raves, drinking at BBQ’s, swimming during the summer, and the legendary “morning after breakfast’s” at Denny’s (post party, concert or rave), I couldn’t help but to feel this incredible pit in my stomach.
Dilated pupils, lock jaw, sweaty, blurry faces, grinned back at me from the brightly lit screen. I remember looking through music magazines when I was younger, seeing all these fabulous people dancing with the exact same expressions... Except the feeling that occurred was very different form the one that I have now.
At the age of 13, I remember ripping pictures of these fabulous people out of Happy Magazine and Flaunt. It filled me with and endless amount of optimism, because I would lie there listening to the electro-pop album that came with the magazine, picturing crowds of people scream my name, as I danced my little heart out.
Living in a sheltered suburb of Colorado can definitely be deter you from a dream of fame. It was only a matter of time, before I found myself re-applying on facial glitter, and blotting the beads of sweat from my face with a stage hand’s t-shirt.
I had a little flash from the past last Thursday when I was working the floor at TRACKS. Two adorable kids ran up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and stared up at me wide-eyed.
“Are you beautiful?” The thin, attractive twink asked me.
“Excuse me?”
“What he means is, are you Matty B.eautiful?” Screeched the thrilled fag-hag companion.
I stopped and stared at them for a beat.
“I suppose I am now, aren’t I?” I hesitated.
The two exchanged glances, immediately screamed at the top of their lungs, and tackled me.
A bit confused, I stood up, adjusted myself and grinned at them; confused.
“You are a LEGEND! I can’t believe you work here! Are you dancing tonight?! When’s your next show? Are you still dancing with Bliss? Where have you been? None of us have seen you for, like, a year! Are you dead? How are you? I heard another dancer broke your leg to get your slot dancing for Phunk-E! Oh my GOD! The picture of you dancing at Ultra World that I got off of Denver Underground is on ALL of my friend’s myspace!”
I was completely taken aback. I quickly collected myself and shook the stunned look off my face. I gave them a brief catch-up on the past year, delicately leaving out the drug addiction, horrible break up of the Boulder Raving Crew, and the destroyed mess my life had been until about three or four months ago.
The boy was completely mesmerized by my life, and couldn’t stop staring. I told them to come to me if they needed anything, and politely excused myself; directing them to run along and play nice with the other kids. As I retreated to the employee bathroom, I couldn’t help but be complexly overwhelmed by the entire situation. I took a moment to myself, grabbed a Red Bull, and headed back out to the floor.
As I finished looking at the pictures from past raves, I felt this incredible sense of qualm. According to my 13-year-old self, I had it all: People screaming my name, being recognized on the street, girls and guys wanting to fuck me, much less be me, and an entire crew made to assure a positive experience at raves and parties. What more could I want?
The downside of taking unmarked pills that came in a little baggie, is that is doesn’t have a “side effects” label, detailing the result of your consumption. My personal side effects label is incredibly lengthy; which was the deciding factor in changing my lifestyle.
I certainly don’t know where my life is going, or where I am going to be. However, I am quite confident as to where I have been, and where I will not be again.
Maybe I traded my glow sticks for a mop and broom, and perhaps I gave up fame at parties for the humble life of floor staff at TRACKS. What’s important is that I am living a life where honesty, being clean, and good old fashioned hard work is earning me a healthy, positive future. It may not be the most glamorous life, but I figure any situation can be a glamorous one, if you throw on a little glitter.
Matty B.
Not days before my roommate and I decided that I was to move out at the end of the month, I finally unpacked my last few boxes: one of which containing my old computer, that I haven’t used in almost a year.
I sat there for hours, looking at old pictures of past friends; at my past life. As I scanned the folders full of pictures of me and my “best friends” dancing at raves, drinking at BBQ’s, swimming during the summer, and the legendary “morning after breakfast’s” at Denny’s (post party, concert or rave), I couldn’t help but to feel this incredible pit in my stomach.
Dilated pupils, lock jaw, sweaty, blurry faces, grinned back at me from the brightly lit screen. I remember looking through music magazines when I was younger, seeing all these fabulous people dancing with the exact same expressions... Except the feeling that occurred was very different form the one that I have now.
At the age of 13, I remember ripping pictures of these fabulous people out of Happy Magazine and Flaunt. It filled me with and endless amount of optimism, because I would lie there listening to the electro-pop album that came with the magazine, picturing crowds of people scream my name, as I danced my little heart out.
Living in a sheltered suburb of Colorado can definitely be deter you from a dream of fame. It was only a matter of time, before I found myself re-applying on facial glitter, and blotting the beads of sweat from my face with a stage hand’s t-shirt.
I had a little flash from the past last Thursday when I was working the floor at TRACKS. Two adorable kids ran up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and stared up at me wide-eyed.
“Are you beautiful?” The thin, attractive twink asked me.
“Excuse me?”
“What he means is, are you Matty B.eautiful?” Screeched the thrilled fag-hag companion.
I stopped and stared at them for a beat.
“I suppose I am now, aren’t I?” I hesitated.
The two exchanged glances, immediately screamed at the top of their lungs, and tackled me.
A bit confused, I stood up, adjusted myself and grinned at them; confused.
“You are a LEGEND! I can’t believe you work here! Are you dancing tonight?! When’s your next show? Are you still dancing with Bliss? Where have you been? None of us have seen you for, like, a year! Are you dead? How are you? I heard another dancer broke your leg to get your slot dancing for Phunk-E! Oh my GOD! The picture of you dancing at Ultra World that I got off of Denver Underground is on ALL of my friend’s myspace!”
I was completely taken aback. I quickly collected myself and shook the stunned look off my face. I gave them a brief catch-up on the past year, delicately leaving out the drug addiction, horrible break up of the Boulder Raving Crew, and the destroyed mess my life had been until about three or four months ago.
The boy was completely mesmerized by my life, and couldn’t stop staring. I told them to come to me if they needed anything, and politely excused myself; directing them to run along and play nice with the other kids. As I retreated to the employee bathroom, I couldn’t help but be complexly overwhelmed by the entire situation. I took a moment to myself, grabbed a Red Bull, and headed back out to the floor.
As I finished looking at the pictures from past raves, I felt this incredible sense of qualm. According to my 13-year-old self, I had it all: People screaming my name, being recognized on the street, girls and guys wanting to fuck me, much less be me, and an entire crew made to assure a positive experience at raves and parties. What more could I want?
The downside of taking unmarked pills that came in a little baggie, is that is doesn’t have a “side effects” label, detailing the result of your consumption. My personal side effects label is incredibly lengthy; which was the deciding factor in changing my lifestyle.
I certainly don’t know where my life is going, or where I am going to be. However, I am quite confident as to where I have been, and where I will not be again.
Maybe I traded my glow sticks for a mop and broom, and perhaps I gave up fame at parties for the humble life of floor staff at TRACKS. What’s important is that I am living a life where honesty, being clean, and good old fashioned hard work is earning me a healthy, positive future. It may not be the most glamorous life, but I figure any situation can be a glamorous one, if you throw on a little glitter.
Matty B.