Jump Right In

"Jump right into my pickle jar," said the Devil. What does it take? Courage? Desperation? Stupidity? Liquor? A push. Don't look back to thank them, just fall and glide over the abyss and try to land as softly as possible when you touch down. Be the insect, form part of a cloud, escape into - what is it they call that - the atmosphere. Of course you don't have to jump to shift your perspective on things. You can fall instead and fall hard at that. Bruised knees, a bruised ego. When you jump right into humiliation, it is how you treat that moment that defines you. My advice? Laugh as loud as you can at yourself and mean it. Laugh at your human condition. Write something real starting NOW, Jenni. This is tired rambling. Jumping is an exciting thought. Jump up, jump up and get down. Jump around. A smoky, sweaty dance hall pleads for you to surrender to the beat. Sex drives the crowd to madness. Neon lights pour over you and you are showered in light. You see dust and then glitter in the dust. For an instant, you're happy - you're God. Why must the words God and Devil begin with capital letters? Who decided that it had to be that way? Why can't the word "it" begin with a capital I? Someone, somewhere, makes all the rules, crosses all the t's, makes phoney laws that mindless sheep baaaaaaaa to. BAaaaaaaa. bAAAAAaaaa. Watch this! jUMpRIGHtINTomYPICkLEjar. How's that for rebellion?? What about if I use the digit key "0" as the letter "O" to form a sentence: "Payph0nes should not cost money." Looks like copyrighting is out of the question. I just fucked with the English language. It is so fun to break the rules. Speaking of which, never mind.