Not only did i destroy the pieces preserved from my past. I destroyed the blockade which kept me from destroying things harmful in my life. And after today, I've destroyed the daemon in me which caused the mess of confetti in the first place.
EX boyfriend alert. They will be mentioned in this praxis. If whiney emotional praxis is not your thing, then wait till next time when i do awesome things to mess with strangers
(for your listening pleasure. Ironically, introduced to me by one of my many ex's)
I thought it would be disrespectful to the people who once loved me to destroy the things they've given me. Why destroy the records and labors of love? Surely these must always be preserved!!! And thus, the records of past relationships started to be kept.
I don't know when i started to put them in file folders. But i did. And i kept them all together, organized chronologically. Each boy had a folder. I didn't display the things, they were tucked away for the days when i would haphazardly rediscover them. They were a constant reminder of the virtues of the people whom loved me, why the hell i dated them anyway. I'd reread, and often times fall inlove with them again, just for that moment. Sometimes i'd cry. Inevitably they'd be tucked away again and left to age and fade.
When i went to college, I stayed with my high school boyfriend, whom i love very much. Inevitably (as it goes of woman with week spirits and high libidos) I ended up cheating on him and seeing as i felt guilty about it, broke up with him. It was a messy break up in the middle of my first winter term of school. I was taking 21 credits. I was not a cheerful pixie. It was also the time i started playing the game.
Since then, i've been quite inhibited. Many people pursued me in college. I dated the boy whom i cheated with for awhile, but ended up cheating on him. I was smart enough not to try to comit after this. Many have perused me. I ended up pushing all of them away. I was a serial cheater. I found love in many places and cared for many people, but tried to avoid the twin traps of my addiction to relationships and my need for physicality. I avoided open relationships, because they don't appeal to me. I want to be in a normal closed one. I want to be able to. There is no reason why this should be so hard for me!
In the interim of floating, I found someone i adored. He became a close friend but rejected my advances he showed me The Darjeeling Unlimited and we had a long conversation. I was a self fulfilling prophecy. I feared things enough to sabotage them. I had too damn much baggage.
So i decided to do this task. Ironically enough
(despite the original inspiration for doing this being soundly out of my life)
it took about 5 months after that conversation for me to get maniacally depressed enough to do it, but I took each of those file folders and over the course of two days, i ripped them to shreds. I did it naked and unencumbered. I read some notes and ignored others coldly. The sheer quantity was astounding, reminding me at once how loved i was/am and how... crazy people can be. I broke CD's. I ripped all the pages out of all the notebooks and ripped them till you couldn't read any more (pictures and video on the bottom.) I burned the only copy of my prom picture. I Ripped up (with my bare hands) the fabric of an ex's tee shirt. I put on a shirt of my own making (which i made at a rather troubled time in my life) to take a picture, then destroyed that as well. One notebook which i'd emptied of everything related to the memory i kept around for paper, but the rest got shoved into a large black purse and sat ominously waiting for me to truly finish the task (which will be explained later.) Out of the back of the notebook fell the last remnants of something wonderful. Those i burned.
Still, I was not done. The papers sat in my room in a large black purse for a long time, waiting to become part of something bigger. I wanted to take all of the pieces of things and turn them into an epic art project, something to represent taking my past and having it make a better me.
(Creating wings was my idea, chalked full of symbolism and shit.)
Which was a great idea and all, but it never happened. The purse just sat in my room, mocking me whenever i tried to clean my room. And while I struggled to be faithful, it got harder and harder, and i got closer and closer to completely destroying the relationship and myself.
Then i got on a plane and went to Texas and actually met my boyfriend, which gave me some idea of the future i wanted to create and i learned a MUCH more important lesson. While the idea of turning everything from my life into a grand art project is incredibly beautiful, it's not as important as followthrough. I want to live my life beautifully, so I can look back on it and reveal at my experiences, but there is something more important then that.
It's our decisions.
It's not pretty, and it's not romantic, but today I took the black purse down to the dumpster outside my dorm and threw it away. Yeah, it's anti-climactic, but at least it's done. (despite taking 6 months. If you want proof, the video at the end show that i actually went threw with it)