The Status is NOT Quo.

Labels. Lay-BELLS. I don't know anyone who pronounces it like that, but I'm sure there is someone who does. Like (pseudonym) BekkaBenz, for example, who says "iron" like "I-rawn." Please. And people still make fun of the way I say "water." I'm not a hillbilly. I don't say "WAAAAAHHHH-terrrr." I was raised by New York natives who simply say "water" as "wutter." Is that a crime? I've had people tell me I have a New York accent. They obviously haven't met my extended family.

What were we--what was I--talking about?

Labels. Right.

I hate 'em.

I despise labels. The minute you try to label me, I WILL prove you wrong. Then, being an American (most likely), you'll attempt again to label me as this or as that. I will again contradict you. On and on will the pattern go until you can only label me as "other." This I am content with, actually. Just be warned.

I mean, how can you possibly categorize me? What am I? Sometimes even I don't know.

To quote The Sound of Music, "How do you catch a moonbeam in your hand?" You can't. So you don't. Contrariwise, with labeling, one CAN label me as something--as anything. Whatever they perceive me as. But they will be wrong every time--so they shouldn't.

I'm not talking about regular labels, like "friend" or "cousin" or "confidant" or "book reader" or "singer" or "rower." I'm talking about the cruel ones that have ever struck a nerve with the victim of a labeling. "Jock." "Nerd." "Ho."

I've never been called any of those, actually.

Moving on. I honestly don't think anyone's persona can be put into words in the English language. A few cases are obvious: Lady GaGa, me, Chuck Norris. Labelers think they can generalize other people, however. But no one on Earth--I repeat, NO ONE--can have a personality that is so easily pin-downable as paper on a bulletin board.

Get your heads checked, everyone. God made each and every one of us special. Yes. God. He exists. Get over it. After all of these years, it's a shame that we still need to get people to believe in God. By now, we should have all have had the epiphany that--surprise--a greater power than we can contradict is watching over us (and NOT making us make mistakes!). As long as we all believe that something, somewhere, is keeping the world from crumbling, then we can get somewhere. Even if you believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Or if you're a Wiccan. You get my drift.

Even if you believe aliens made the Pyramids and what not.

Okay, done. I don't want this to turn into a Sunday School Class.

Speaking of: Confirmation. 1 year and 2 months to go, approximately. Confirmation name? Anthony.

The kind of label I like. That of a saint.

n_q_t