Life is like a Mosh Pit

I was talking to my friend, complaining about my general inability to get to anyplace or go anywhere or my lack of friends, and he was busily trying to convince me to just ride my bike downtown and sit in a coffee shop or play my ukulele and just talk to strangers. He explained his life and an analogy for how life is like a mosh pit. Sometimes you got to risk hopping in because it’s just so much fun, and sometimes you got to take a break from dancing, and then get back in the pit. Nobody is trying to hurt you, they’re just dancing too, but you got to try the pit! You have to take risks, and nobody is going to kill you or run you over on your bicycle and it will be so much fun.

I thought about it. I wondered if I might just stand outside the Mosh pit and watch the people dance and listen to the music, and he said that people do that, but basically I have to jump in the Mosh pit because otherwise I’m going to be a hermit and die friendless and alone (friendless hermit dying part were my words, not his).

So I decided to jump in this metaphorical Mosh pit. I would get someone to drive me downtown on Saturday morning, to the outdoor mall or something, and I would bring my ukulele and a book and chill in a coffee shop. Maybe play some music if I feel so inspired. So I asked my Mom.

“What are you doing tomorrow morning?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could drop me off down town.”

“Why?”

“Just to chill in a coffee shop or something.”

“Are you going to meet up with someone?”

“No.”

“You want to go to downtown alone? You’re not like, secretly meeting up with someone? Like one of your “fans” or something?” (She was referring to the people I mentioned who liked my music last night.)

“No! I just want to go downtown and hang out. Like, get some coffee or read a book or something. Maybe bring my ukulele.”

“You’re going to play your ukulele downtown for money?”

“No, I just want to go down town.”

“That doesn’t sound safe!”

“To go downtown…in the day time….and drink coffee?”

“Yeah, you’re going alone? You’re not going with your cousin? What is Jenelle doing tomorrow?”

“MOM. I just want to go down town. In the DAYTIME. In PUBLIC. And maybe drink coffee in a shop or read a book or something.”

“Well….I don’t know….ask me tomorrow….”

At that point I said nevermind and texted my cousin Jenelle.

I’m twenty-two years old and my Mom is scared for me to leave my house alone. This kind of explains why I’m afraid to leave my house a lone. I think I should move out. But then I need a job….and a car….and a license….Which my power to get lies in the hands of whomever has free time to teach me to drive. WHICH IS MY MOM.

I am trapped. Being the youngest of eight and having surgery last year is not working in my favor.

If life is like a Mosh Pit, then I think I might currently be being trampled by my Mom’s loving arms and desire that I remain safe and protected from the outside world for as long as possible….and so I have to crawl out of that pit and join the smokers who are standing apart and just enjoying the music on the outside.

– cdukulele

Side note, I love my Mom and I do not intend to take up smoking, just escape the Mosh Pit of crushing love. I also don’t blame her for my complete lack of independence entirely. I recognize my fault, but she is not helping me be independent.

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