What does it mean to be a train-wreck?
(According to Dictionary.com )
train wreck
noun
1.
an incident in which a train is severely damaged
(According to Urban Dictionary )
train wreck
noun
2.
a total f**** disaster ...the kind that makes you want to shake your head.
Which ever definition you casually choose to go by on a daily basis, I am assuming a common consensus can be formed: 'train-wreck' is not a pleasant term. Not even pleasant sounding. T-R-A-I-N W-R-E-C-K...... nothing harmonious 'bout it.
It is with humble regards to note that for the sake of this post, Urban Dictionary will win in validity (yay) and will be honored with sophistication and credibility. (Because made up dictionaries of fake terms deserves some recognition, am I right?)
To be considered a 'train-wreck' is almost equivalent to to being considered a disease, but fear not reader, for there is a savior amongst out midst that will shoo us away from approaching such terrors. As you may already be aware, the life of the average millennial has been taught, scorned, and manufactured by an oh-so significant entity that goes by the name 'Society.' 'Society' veers said average millennial far from the life of a 'train-wreck;' working diligently to lead youth to embrace a life that is founded on some fairly simple yet important premises: be pretty, get married, be perfect, have a cool job, make lots and lots of money, be perfect, feed the poor, have cute kids, wear flannel, be perfect.
'Society' becomes the friend that offers us the salvation it declares we need.
Not to mention it always has the wisest ways of teaching one how to find success in achieving such awesomeness: One must go to school, study hard, be great, have awesome friends, wear awesome clothes, and pretend not to care how others perceive them, because they are just too awesome.
Then, one is allowed to enjoy an Instagram-approved life. Right?
As with anything else, there is a seemingly insignificant catch that may sometimes be hard to come by: it doesn't exist. (WHAT?!!?!!???!?!)
Real life is not like the aesthetically pleasing and carefully crafted lives I see on Instagram all the time?
I introduce you, reader, to the not-so cliché and robotic version of life which is as follows:
In the case you may still (somehow) be unaware, life is actually a complete and utter mess. It is chaotic, unapologetic, unorganized and sometimes extremely unpleasant. The idea that life is 50 shades of perfect is an unfortunate lie, and whoever feeds such lie needs to carefully and swiftly excuse themselves from cloud 9.
I have made the fall from the cloud myself (many times) and what I have realized is this:
1. I have a resting bitch face.
2. My definition of flawless when I 'wake up' is hair twice the size of my face and a new neighbor resting on my right cheek that goes by the name Zit.
3. Sometimes I have the energy to go on a 25 mile run (exaggeration noted: 25 miles is 25 miles. I rest my case.) and sometimes my journey to the gym is a long and nasty parade of quiet cursing and unrelenting instances of banging my head against hard surfaces. (no exaggeration here. Sadly.)
4. My 'water-resistant' eyeliner lies to me.
5. Time is my friend only when there is nothing to do, and then packs its bags and disappears when my list of to do's becomes greater then my capacity for sanity.
6. Some people are just.....not nice.
Even as I sit to write this post, I must note that there is about 3094706 other priorities that I am pushing to the darkest depths of my mind, and they will maintain suffocated there until life offers me a cruel reminder that I need to get them out. Example: My car needed an oil change, but Netflix rudely distracted me. My car now does not start.
It is through the madness and the trying tribulations of these first world problems, that a realization often surfaces.A realization that not every moment is Instagram post-ready, and that not every hair falls into place where you want it, when you want it, how you want it. (Damn hair.)
But it is like the ever so wise Amy Schumer says:
“The moments that make life worth living are when things are at their worst and you find a way to laugh.”
For me, the term train-wreck has taken on new meaning. The term, I find, stretches far beyond its original assumption when used to describe someone. (Deep I know.) A train wreck can be anyone, at anytime. No one is immune to messing up, to feeling insane, and to wanting to do so much with so little.
I am in many ways, on many occasions an absolute, way in over-my-head, out-of-this -world train wreck. My mornings are not always bright, and my cup of coffee is not always big enough. Yet something amazing comes out of living in a not-so perfect world; when something does go right, or when my hard work does pay off, or when life actually decides to be somewhat kind, I can appreciate it so much more.
Yes my (perceivable) rant of negativity is actually attempting to breed something positive: life can be a mess, but life can also be awesome. From this contradiction is born: an awesome mess.
SO, What does it mean to be a train wreck? Not always Instagram- ready, (taking 62 selfies and finding the perfect combinations of filters is both tedious and mentally exhausting) and not always the way our good 'ole pal 'Society' tries to sell it. To be a train-wreck is to forget to put on your alarm the night before for work, to cave in and eat eleven double chocolate chip cookies instead of the one you promised you were going to stop at, to cry in your best friends arms after a rough night in town, and to wear white linen pants on the day your period decides to drop by.
To be a train wreck is to be human. And I would not want it any other way.
SO, What does it mean to be a train wreck? Not always Instagram- ready, (taking 62 selfies and finding the perfect combinations of filters is both tedious and mentally exhausting) and not always the way our good 'ole pal 'Society' tries to sell it. To be a train-wreck is to forget to put on your alarm the night before for work, to cave in and eat eleven double chocolate chip cookies instead of the one you promised you were going to stop at, to cry in your best friends arms after a rough night in town, and to wear white linen pants on the day your period decides to drop by.
To be a train wreck is to be human. And I would not want it any other way.
And with that I sign off,
XO-Adri
(P.S: No, Amy Schumer's feature in my post about what it means to be a 'train-wreck' is no coincidence.)
