Thanksgiving

Late last night, under the influence of a potent mixture of drugs, I got up off the sofa to go to sleep. I must have got up too quickly, though, because the next thing I knew I was lying on the floor being awaken by my roommates. I had fallen flat on my face, with my jaw taking most of the damage. My bottom lip was gashed completely open by my two front teeth, which suddenly felt as if they had been rigged with sharp thorns. I picked myself up as quickly as I could and did my best impression of sleep for the next seven hours or so.

When I did rise out of bed this morning, I couldn’t help but smile. I like to try to be like Laura Ingalls Wilder, who just had to crack a smile in pictures when it was fashionable to pose with a serious frown. She probably had no rational reason to grin, as everything I used to read by her chronicled an infuriatingly dull life in the nineteenth century frontier. Her books are all as annoying a chore as churning butter, but nobody could accuse her of not being happy.

In that same spirit, I refuse to let a damn toothache deter me from enjoying this Thanksgiving. It’s easily one of my favorite days of the year, for reasons other than the fact that it celebrates the genocide of the Native American. I really do like the tradition of going around the table and saying why you’re thankful. Instead of the video games we expect on Christmas, we here give each other verbal gifts that mean a lot more. I wanted to take the opportunity on Thanksgiving to tell you all what I’m thankful for in hopes that you’ll share the same with me.

I love the breeze. I like the way it whips my hair around, and it often moves me to walk or run with my arms stretched out like wings. Many people like to act as if someone wearing an iPod is cutting himself off from the world, but I think the damn thing actually brings me closer to the Earth. With my favorite music in my ears, I can notice little yellow butterflies, uniquely green leaves, and happy black labs with so much ease.

Speaking of music, I think those of us who really do enjoy it are constantly being inspired by what we listen to. Nothing gets me more in the mood to realize my ambitions than a Coldplay song. Nothing makes me more confident than a Roots rap giving me a thousand different wordpictures why I’m the shit. Nothing pricks me with the importance of details like Coltrane and Davis together on the same track. In the end, I too know that I have my books and my poetry to protect me.

I didn’t always feel this way about my books. I would sit in the library in high school, day after day, trying to figure out the curse that made me want to shut out my surroundings and pore over pages and pages of readings. I grew so tired of always being the one who raises his hand with the correct answer, but I couldn’t stop doing my homework for the life of me.

It took me so long to realize that my desperation to read comes not from a need to make grades or sound smart but a yearning to be shocked by new perspectives. Sitting in a chair and reading to me really is like exploring, and I’m glad of it no matter if I seem like a cheerful choir-boy for knowing the answers.

I’m also thankful for the moments that can make one feel so connected. The first time I laid naked and sweaty with another, I realized that life is too amazing to ever be sad about. Each of the times a friend and I experience something together confirms that we are not alone in the world. And emotions, whether they’re good or bad, are the only way we know we’re alive.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’d be even more alive if I had love, a fact I’ve known in my bones since I’ve been into girls. I know that the day will come soon because it’s inevitable, and I definitely think it could be tomorrow. Some people claim that women are too complex, but I really couldn’t be more thankful that the process doesn’t have objective criteria like a job interview or some shit. If finding someone were that simple, there’d be nothing fun about it.

A lot of people have very little of this type of fun in their lives because they are oppressed by the individualism of others. Someday we’ll all realize that we’re better off working together than in a dog-eat-dog society. I really believe the only thing we’ll have to lose is our chains.

And, lastly, I’m thankful that I split my lip so violently. It’s good to not feel rational, to be reminded of how unpredictable the world can be. I also think I deserved punishment for making my mother eat Thanksgiving dinner without me, so really it was probably karma. I hope everyone realizes how connected you and me and everyone else is this Thanksgiving.