Sometimes I Hit Things

So obviously, I took today off so I could sit inside all day and get good and fucking drunk and celebrate because BARACK

I can't even finish the sentence. Love it.

Not to go around, you know, poking fingers at the sunrise, but this kicks ass, it's historic, there are obvious conclusions about the impact of this thing that we are all drawing simultaneously, and I was there.

I was there, and it happened, and in some ways, that's enough. It will never be enough, but it's edging towards it, slowly, and I know it, because I was there, and I wanted to hit things.

The night was riotless, however, and I was actually kind of upset, because I think everyone was getting pissed off at me since all I wanted to do was smash something. This is how I show joy, man. It was like fucking House of Pain of up in there, with idiots jumping around, wildebeast stampedes and hugging and screaming crying laughing and I don't think I've ever seen more high-fives in my fucking life.

"I just want to fucking shake something. HARD."

Schmee, being down for anything, turned towards me. "DO IT."

So I grabbed her shoulders and shook the crap out of her. Then I slapped Phil, and punched MoLinder, and poked the Random Guy That Gyna Knew Named Travis real hard and apologized because I could not believe it, but I knew it, and I could not believe it. And everyone was getting very frustrated with my aggression. So I bit CrazyLiz on the bicep, just because she told me not to. Sometimes, I regress.

Then there were speeches, and then there was Obama, and then there was silence. The audience collectively waited for him to speak, and pause, to give us the go ahead to jubilize the fuck out of ourselves. We did not want to disrupt him, he deserved his words. It was the most intense, respectful, anxious, and most lemminglike night of my life.

And then when it was over, we all walked out, calmly. Elated. In complete shock. We were a colony, migrating amongst office buildings, I fucking work here and it's dead and it's singing with life. The city blocked off all of the streets for a three mile radius for our walk away from the park, giving us time for the yakking away and climbing on things, but only to cheer, never to fight. And then one person would scream, and then everyone would scream, and strangers were friends and friends were closer. When you accidentally ran into someone, you would laugh and apologize, and they would laugh and yell, "OBAMA" and you'd respond in kind, and then hug. Am I a fucking hippy now?

Throughout the night, the crowd cheered in unison, moved united, stood up and sat down as one. It was moving, and it was fucking scary.

I've always felt extremely uncomfortable in situations where everyone in the room was acting as one. I do not like the sameness of that mindset, of those actions. Freaks me out.

In all honesty, I'm far more comfortable amongst tension and anxiety, where emotions collide. Apparently, I'm high strung. I couldn't think straight at all, and I'm always thinking about something. That's a lie. Clearing my mind is rarely a problem. The dichotomy is strange: rarely rushed, always slow, and simultaneously cranking away at all times. When the brain can't work, the body overcompensates and works harder. I'm not used to this chill, this acceptance, this complacency. But it was wonderful.

In there, at the time, there was no conflict, and everyone was all getting along and smoking pot that we found on the ground (I know, I know) and it was like goddamn Bonnaroo up in Grant Park, but instead of doucheass jam bands and drum circles we had Wolf Blitzer and Anderson Cooper.

It was the first time I've ever understood how faith works. The stereotypical Evangelicals, who I've never been able to fully comprehend or identify with, have this profound, erratic understanding of belief that looks absolutely maniacal to outsiders, and now I understand.

Not that Obama is god, or in any way divine, or representing a higher power.

Do not misunderstand.

But honestly? This is the first time I've felt so inspired, so hopeful, so fucking relieved by someone who is, in all sense of the word, an authority. And I've never been accepting of that before. Ever. Not of an employer, or a manager, a judge or a cop or a political figure, or a teacher. It's not because I don't respect them. Recognizing another's dominant status? Never been good at that. But Barack gives the impression that he's none of those words, but aspires to learn what he can about all of them. The man is this eternal student, and there is nothing I have more respect for than the pursuit of knowledge in all forms.

He seems to hold a philosophy similar to mine: where there is no right and there is no wrong. There is you, and there is me, and we exist, and we are different. Our heads may clash, but that's how ideas, fuck it, worlds are born. Clash is good. He seems, at least for now, to hold this view not just of our country, but of the world.

He's completely human, and he's way better at it than I am.

And he's going to be The Boss.

And for the first time in my life, I am completely comfortable with that, and I can't think of anyone else better for the job.

How scary is that?

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