The older we get the more cautious we get. Well most of us anyway. When you have suffered the loss of parents, family, friends to illness, drugs and random acts of violence, you learn quickly what matters in life. It also makes you careful. Sometimes I don’t want to be careful. Sometimes I want to be reckless!
Reckless. I just love the word. It describes itself beautifully. Reckless abandon! Even better. Sometimes my older self wishes she could just wake up, tell people what I am thinking without worrying about hurting their feelings. Fuck who I want without worrying about who gets hurt or if it is moral and ethical to do so. Tell someone they are being too sensitive without worrying about hurting their feelings. Tell someone what I need and demand they pay attention to me, without worrying about stressing the other person out.
Reckless. I don’t want to be reckless like driving down the highway in the wrong direction. Sometimes I want to be reckless for the benefits it may bring me, and not worry about the impact it has on others. It always makes it seem selfish to me. I am not used to being selfish. That isn’t my thing. I am always looking out for others, sometimes to my own demise. Every now and then I think of ways that I could step a little outside the box. Take that weekend getaway that seems silly and overly expensive. Fly to an unknown city alone and just explore. Maybe have a one night stand with someone I will never see again. (That may be a little extreme, but you get it). Sometimes being average is boring. Sometimes you just want to step out of the box and be someone different if only for a day, a week, a month?
Sometimes, I just want to be reckless.