I am a Plow

plow;
8. to tear up, cut into, or make a furrow, groove, etc. in (a surface) with or as if with a plow
-as defined by Dictionary.com

I am the plow. I don’t wait around for things to happen, and I certainly don’t let others do it for me. I take what is considered the norm, and I plow into it, shattering it all.

Am I the plow? Sometimes.

I definitely don’t follow the “normal” way of thinking, or acting, or a lot of things, I like talking about subjects that most people find taboo and I like changing people’s minds, I like all that a lot.

I don’t do all that on purpose or just for the heck of it, it just sort of happens.

I was talking to my friend one night and he asked how I was, and I replied “up until two minutes ago wonderful, but now, not so much”. Naturally he asked why and I explained; the subject was suicide. I think for many it’s a forbidden topic, especially within families. It’s viewed as an imperfection and that drives me absolutely crazy. I feel the need to talk about it in an effort to understand it more, although I never do think suicide can ever be understood. The conversation helped me get through that moment and it really meant a lot. Thank you.

Same thing with my friend Claudia, I come to her with all of my woes and when we talk about “big, hidden, family secrets”, or really anything, it helps. I just need to talk about it.

I may come off as strange sometimes, and Claudia can attest to that, but “normal is just a setting on a dryer” and I get her to join in with most that I do. I remember one summer we were going walking, it wasn’t anywhere close to being my best day so I grabbed a pack of Chips Ahoy, a Nestea and my iPod and walked out the door. I needed to vent and I chose to dance it out. So there we were walking down a busy street in my neighborhood, and I was singing and dancing with my Chips Ahoy and Nestea while barefoot (my feet really needed to feel the Earth, again, strange, I know.) She couldn’t count how many people looked, but she did note that a cop car gave us (ok fine, just me) curious looks. That was my way of dealing with it, far from the norm.

This is really scatter brained, but the gist of it is that a plow digs things up for other people to use; I open new ways of thinking and dealing with things for people use. That sounds rather full of me, and I’m really not, but I think that’s my metaphor. I think I just confused myself, and whoever reads this by trying to relate it all. But in my head, it makes sense. See? Now that’s proof I don’t think like all of you.

I, Haley Ray Thompson, am a plow.
(Please don’t spread that around.)