I like people who have scars, are dirty, rough around the edges, scuffed up and smudged. It’s the shiny people who worry me. I don’t know what to make of them. Individuals who are always trying to convince others they have it all together, always giving advice, always have the right answer. Those who look pretty, act right, speak eloquent words dripping with condescension are the ones who scare me.
I want to be around people who have hit rock bottom. I want to hear their story. However, these are the ones who are reticent to talk of the path they’ve traveled for fear you may be overwhelmed at the depth of their depravity. The shiny ones are always ready to tell you something about them, ready for you to be impressed when you they whip out their credentials, all polished and glowing.
I like being around people who say the wrong things at the wrong time. Someone who isn’t comfortable with the shiny ones, who stands in the corner knowing they don’t fit in, is the person I want to hang out with, become friends with, share my life with.
I don’t want to journey with the satisfactory, adequate, reasonable, quite good, fair, decent, good enough, sufficient, sufficiently good, fine, not bad, all right, average, tolerable, passable, middling, moderate folks.
I want to be with those who are more like me.