Floating
I'm not sure if any of this makes sense, but I wanted to put it out there anyway.
I have that feeling of unreality again. Like I'm not quite all here or maybe just not quite myself. Like the universe shifted a few inches to the left and I haven't readjusted to it, or like I'm a fictional character suddenly being written by a different author who hasn't quite got my voice down. It's not a bad feeling, on the contrary there's a certain sort of surreal floaty-ness to it. Often when I feel this way it's accompanied by a sense of foreboding, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This time is different, there's no associated gloom and doom. Instead, there's a sort of annoyance at all the people harshing my buzz, trying to tear me away from enjoying this life that isn't quite mine, wanting me to think and feel deeper than I'm capable of right now. I'm sure some of this can be attributed to actual shifts in my universe - going back to school (which in some ways is like being a freshman all over again every semester just because everything changes, especially on a big campus), trying a new major, trying on a new role in the world to go with the major, attempting to apply for "adult" jobs with CVs and cover letters instead of just filling in applications... some things are different. But the things that aren't different and should anchor me aren't: my home, my family, my friends, my activities. I feel a bit detached from all of it. The only things that seem unchanging are intangibles - ideas, inspirations, stories, things that exist as no more than letters or images if at all. So I'm floating. The view up here is pretty neat though. I don't have to come down just yet, do I?
I have that feeling of unreality again. Like I'm not quite all here or maybe just not quite myself. Like the universe shifted a few inches to the left and I haven't readjusted to it, or like I'm a fictional character suddenly being written by a different author who hasn't quite got my voice down. It's not a bad feeling, on the contrary there's a certain sort of surreal floaty-ness to it. Often when I feel this way it's accompanied by a sense of foreboding, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This time is different, there's no associated gloom and doom. Instead, there's a sort of annoyance at all the people harshing my buzz, trying to tear me away from enjoying this life that isn't quite mine, wanting me to think and feel deeper than I'm capable of right now. I'm sure some of this can be attributed to actual shifts in my universe - going back to school (which in some ways is like being a freshman all over again every semester just because everything changes, especially on a big campus), trying a new major, trying on a new role in the world to go with the major, attempting to apply for "adult" jobs with CVs and cover letters instead of just filling in applications... some things are different. But the things that aren't different and should anchor me aren't: my home, my family, my friends, my activities. I feel a bit detached from all of it. The only things that seem unchanging are intangibles - ideas, inspirations, stories, things that exist as no more than letters or images if at all. So I'm floating. The view up here is pretty neat though. I don't have to come down just yet, do I?