i just pretend i'm a star.
this past week has been really rough for me. there's no real tangible reason. I can't point the finger to one or two people and shriek that they're upsetting me, I can't point to a bad grade or a man who stole my seat on the bus and pissed me off. but it's general frustration, I think. Ran suggested I might be going through a serious funk. she's quite right, I think. last night my mother and I were in Georgetown, and in the car I felt like crying, but I didn't. only because I would have to explain to her why I was upset. and I didn't feel like doing that.
I just suddenly feel like this incredibly dry . . . incredibly dull . . . incredibly boring person who also happens to be incredibly repetetive. I know the last, at least, is fact. I am extremely repetetive, and it rarely bothers me -- because I, frankly, usually don't encounter my usual . . . "repetetiveness." but looking at everything I've written . . . I feel like I've been saying the same things over and over recently, which is incredibly frustrating. I don't like feeling as though I'm the exact same bored person I was a week ago. I don't like to feel like no one is listening. I don't like to think I'm not saying anything worth listening to.
I can draw one thousand miniature portraits of myself. but they all look the same. it's nothing new.
that upsets me.
in addition to that, I think I'm in a number of unhealthy friendships. and I'm not sure if I'm strong or weak. I cannot possibly be weak, because I don't take shit from people. but if I don't take shit from people, how is it possible that I let the same handful of people walk all over me day after day, time after time and piss me off again and again? I have always been the doting good person people could count on to swoop in when they're feeling bad to make them feel better. I've always been the one who could will herself to isolate the good in a person's heart and praise the hell out of them until they feel better about themselves . . . but when it comes to me I automatically feel worse. the Christmas season always heightens this feeling, and I generally love this month.
I've come to some awful standstill where I can't say in any plainer way who I am and what I want to do with myself. there are only so many times I can say "Rachel Marie Douglas wants to be an actress, filmmaker, and wants to write." eventually I'm confronted with how. and I can sit around and will myself not to imagine little fabulous moments for the future I'm determined to create for myself for hours on end, but I'll continue to do it. I can get rid of this journal and get a new screen name and pretend to be someone else for a while, but I'm only going to turn out unhappy and frustrated, and I'll still be on the same soul search, only without a forum to do it aloud.
shit, man.
I just suddenly feel like this incredibly dry . . . incredibly dull . . . incredibly boring person who also happens to be incredibly repetetive. I know the last, at least, is fact. I am extremely repetetive, and it rarely bothers me -- because I, frankly, usually don't encounter my usual . . . "repetetiveness." but looking at everything I've written . . . I feel like I've been saying the same things over and over recently, which is incredibly frustrating. I don't like feeling as though I'm the exact same bored person I was a week ago. I don't like to feel like no one is listening. I don't like to think I'm not saying anything worth listening to.
I can draw one thousand miniature portraits of myself. but they all look the same. it's nothing new.
that upsets me.
in addition to that, I think I'm in a number of unhealthy friendships. and I'm not sure if I'm strong or weak. I cannot possibly be weak, because I don't take shit from people. but if I don't take shit from people, how is it possible that I let the same handful of people walk all over me day after day, time after time and piss me off again and again? I have always been the doting good person people could count on to swoop in when they're feeling bad to make them feel better. I've always been the one who could will herself to isolate the good in a person's heart and praise the hell out of them until they feel better about themselves . . . but when it comes to me I automatically feel worse. the Christmas season always heightens this feeling, and I generally love this month.
I've come to some awful standstill where I can't say in any plainer way who I am and what I want to do with myself. there are only so many times I can say "Rachel Marie Douglas wants to be an actress, filmmaker, and wants to write." eventually I'm confronted with how. and I can sit around and will myself not to imagine little fabulous moments for the future I'm determined to create for myself for hours on end, but I'll continue to do it. I can get rid of this journal and get a new screen name and pretend to be someone else for a while, but I'm only going to turn out unhappy and frustrated, and I'll still be on the same soul search, only without a forum to do it aloud.
shit, man.