As my journey progresses, I've decided to change my angle a little bit. Not that I ever really had an angle in the first place, but I guess then it's a step in a new direction. I've decided I want to find other silver people. Recently, the words from the poster have been echoing around my head, and in particular, one specific line of it, "Life is about the people you meet and the things you create with them, so go out out there and start creating."
It's just so... true. When your days are up on this planet, what will your possessions, your money, your looks have really meant? You will be remembered for the things you do and the things you create, a lasting legacy that you can leave behind. And the beautiful thing is that it doesn't have to be alone. The real beauty comes from the combined creativity of multiple human minds who can create something spectacular, and they can be the minds of the most unexpected people.
For me, it's a terrifying thought that I could expire without meeting every single person I possibly can. I know this sounds weird, (but you should know by now that weird is my norm) but sometimes, I get really down to the point of actually being distraught at the fact that I can not meet every single person in the world. That I cannot read every single book, listen to every single artist or watch every single film before I die. Out there somewhere could be that one book, film, place or person that changes my life forever, remaining lost in the boundless ambiguity of the world, and I might never stumble across it. That saddens me to tragic depths sometimes, and I'm not even entirely sure why.
I resolved that the best thing I can do, is to go out there and meet as many of these people as I can. Travel to as many countries, read as many books, go to all the museums, walk through the forests, dance in the cities and travel every road, and squeeze as many experiences into my set amount of days, that I possibly can.
When I was younger, I remember saying something really, really terrible to my Mother. I was very young, I must've been around 7 or 8 , and was reaching the end of the perpetual innocent happiness of childhood, and just learning about badness in the world. I hate myself when I think about what I said, but I will never forget it.
I remember listening to someone telling another about this friend of theirs who'd just been diagnosed with cancer. The cancer was terminal and ravaging, and this guy had next to no hope of even surviving the next year. But this man had taken this and created beauty with it. He sold his house, quit his job, effectively ended life as he knew it, and took on the world. He visited all the places he always said he would, did all of the things he hadn't even dreamt he would ever do, and then wrote a book about it.
I remember that stuck in my head for a long time, because... I was jealous.
And then, I went up to my Mother, and how this memory has haunted me since the second the young naive me said it, and I said.
"I wish I had cancer."
It pains me to write this. But I can't deny the memory.
Obviously my Mother was absolutely horrified and sat me down and gave me a very stern talking too, but... there's something quite poignant about that, I think. Because the seven-year old me saw something that her small little head couldn't quite understand - man's endless slog of mundane meniality, despite the fact that time is running out. It's as though there is a giant blazing meteor that we can all see heading straight for us, and we're out in the garden mowing the lawn.
Can we only start to begin life, when we realise that we are at the end? Like some sort of desperate salvation from Captain Hindsight and bastard retrospect? If we start living the dream in our final days, maybe we can atone for the precious days we wasted before? Life is a terminal illness. As soon as you're born, you start dying.
But that's what makes it the most beautiful thing in the world.
I believe that every single person is born with equal potential to achieve greatness. Obviously there are circumstantial and economic factors, but by birth we have all the resources to go forth and learn, and grow, and you have (let's say for arguments sake) eighty years to do your best. Imagine life as an assignment. Everyone knows what the assignment brief is, they have access to the resources to do it, and they all know they have a deadline to do it by. In that time between the now and the deadline, it is completely down to them what they do with it, and what each individual can achieve by the time comes to hand it over. Every birth comes with a death sentence... and I for one, refuse to let the time between now and then slip through my fingers.
So, I began my hunt to find people to create beauty with. The first person I happened across has turned out to be greater and more inspiring than I ever could've imagined.
If you recall, many, many posts ago, I spoke of my friend Shauna, who changed the way I look at life, just through her sheer determination. She managed to achieve her dream of studying abroad in Australia, despite the world doing it's best to stand in her way. Whilst in Australia, I mentioned to her that I'd written about her and she read Scarphelia. Then she said to me "Katie... I have met the most silver person in the world. You need to meet her." This silver girl was on study abroad in Australia from Indianapolis, a blogger, and had read my blog.
When I first spoke to her I just beamed. Her name is Lara Parker, and if ever I was concerned that I couldn't meet everyone in the world, that perhaps I'd never be able to find silver people, then just by existing she has laid all these concerns to rest. We spoke of the universe and shared near identical thoughts, fear and dreams, and I realised that this whole world is full of unknown extraordinaries, and if Lara is anything to go by, then I want to find the rest of them. I then saw the music video to a song which just completely summarised every frustration and aspiration I have in the world, I sent it to her, and she just... got it. The video is linked below, please watch it! I then told her I shall now refer to her as SYSIS, my Stranger Yet Sister in Silver.
I urge you, if you get the chance, please take a look at her blog, and you'll understand.