Fuck, Fuck, Fuck
How fun was that? I’ve never said the f- word online. Fuck! If it offends you, go away. I understand, and I’ll love you from afar. On this trip AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE I have purple-highlighted hair, have smoked pot, tasted some crazy nightlife dancing, and added unreal experiences to my sexual resume. Why the fuck wouldn’t I allow myself to curse online?
Seriously, I’ve been such a good girl my entire life. I’m a family therapist with a Masters in Psychology and a radio show. And on the road, I’ve become so liberated, so naked and free. I can walk down the street and do whatever the hell I want and, guess what, NO ONE EVER KNOWS WHO I AM. So, why I do feel the consistent need to ‘contain’ myself online?
If you’re reading my blog, you are growing and experiencing with me. You’ve heard me talk about sex, sexuality, shitting in nature, hating my family, and now, you are ready to hear a few ex-rated words. And if you are of the weak-hearted, prim, proper, and contained; I bless you and will probably rejoin you someday. But not today, not now; and if you don’t feel comfortable with my level of openness, I understand. I would probably blush if I were a bit saner these days.
I love many remarkably inspiring travel blogs (including but not limited to The Great Family Escape, Family On Bikes, FamilyTrek. The Act of Traveling). I read them often and get reinspired to travel the world forever. I don’t think they have ever so much as muttered a grammatically-skewed phrase.
And then, there are those that draw me on a more primal level, those I’d love to smoke a joint with (Raising Miro, Almost Fearless, Todd’s Wanderings, the Minimalists) because they allow themselves to put their smelly feet on the table, to fart, to talk about those deeper screwed up things that everyone else is trying to hide under the rug, and…to curse. They give themselves permission to be, online, exactly who they are, also when it’s vulgar, overly-opinionated, inappropriate, and uncensored. I would like to develop that.
So, this too, shall pass. This new adolescent awakening that says, “I shouldn’t but I can, so fuck you, I will” will probably subside in its due time (or, it won’t). But, right now, God-damn it, I feel like cursing a whole fucking lot. (By the way, I only curse in the company of people I feel veeeeeeery comfortable around). So, congrats, we are now one billion steps closer, you and I.)
You see, I write for me, really. And I’ve grown ridiculously comfortable with all the adolescent awakenings I’ve had on this trip. And I’ve grown even more ridiculously in love with the new things I am experiencing and becoming every damn day. And, so, fuck it! I’m cursing and smugly smiling from ear to ear with every fuckin profanity that I type.
You know what my favorite line in Pretty Woman is? Cinda-fuckin-rella!
So, Good-fuckin Night! (God, this is liberating!)
Wanna curse back? Wanna tell me how offended this post made you? “Wanna fight?” said the grouchy ladybug? Wanna tell me what fucked-up awesome enlightenments and stupid shit you’ve done on the road? Wanna explain to me how badly I will regret this post in the morning?