Every time I stay at my parents house in Nebraska it happens. I wake up to one thing staring me straight in the face, taunting me from my past, the most horrific thing you could imagine…
A cork board of medals. One of many actually that still resides in my old room to ensure that I am haunted by my past determination and drive. Each gold medal whispers “loser” into my ear when I wake up in the morning and am reminded I am no longer winning fifteen medals a week. Why don’t we get medals in the real world I wonder? I feel like that would really motivate me to get up and get shit done.
High school me was a hard ass. She was up before 6:00 a.m. for basketball practice and sometimes not home until after 7:00 p.m. after five other practices. She was focused. She worked out, practiced every sport, ran suicide lines in her drive way (seriously I did this) studied to make sure she got all As and Bs, and was in bed by 9:00 p.m. every night. She didn’t have time to dick around on things like Instagram or Facebook, I mean they weren’t around then, but even if they were she would have thought they were dumb. She had more important things to do, like kill her Sims characters in a fire…
So when 2014-me comes home I can feel her harsh rays of judgment on my back every time I step into the room that belonged to her. This girl does not look kindly on weakness.
*this photo collage was “professionally” made for my high school graduation, so obviously it still remains a conversation piece in my room today… #lacesout #diedan #finkleiseinhorn
Highschool- me listened to rap because she was a thug like that. She could relate to everything Dr. Dre and Snoop had to say. They just got her. Growing up in Nebraska, in a middle class home, surrounded by a loving family who gave her as many basketball shoes as she wanted… The struggle was real.
The only thing bigger than the KU mens basketball shorts she wore to school every day were the Duke hooded sweathshirts she wore that hung to her knees. She wore tear-away pants, you know in case she ever needed to unsnap her meshy black pants in a matter of two seconds to play a quick game up pick up basketball. It was about utility not fashion.
So even though I think high school- me was pretty scary, and pretty mean, and I actually understand more and more all of the time why she didn’t have a lot friends, I can’t help but respect her determination and focus. She would laugh in my face right now if I told her my current “struggles.” That I don’t know where my life is going, and I can’t get motivated to finish what I start, and boo who who… She’d give me a swift kick in the ass and tell me to toughen up and stop being such a pansy. And that’s exactly what I need at the moment.
My birthday is just about one month away. And I can admit I’m not where I want to be in life at this age, but I know I’m getting closer. It’s time to get shit done and bring back the rap music. Like I always say,
“No matter how many times I get shot with bullets, I keep coming back. That’s just who I am. I seen shit you wouldn’t even believe, grew up in a place no child should. But it’s made me who I am. No one, or no gun, can keep me down. I’m me.” -Taylor
(That’s actually a 50 Cent quote, but it might as well be about my life as well.)
Circa 2005. #thuglife