Go Away
I'm comfortable in my perfectly decorated room with the window cracked because it was warm today. I'm sitting on my bed facing the window that overlooks the football field. The sky is blue and people are out playing soccer, running around the track, and making Case seem like a typical college campus. It all looks so beautiful in the movie screenshot kind of way.
The pain's been stronger lately. I was doing well for a while, and I still am, it just hurts a bit more. It's frustrating not understanding why it matters to me anymore. You'd think a person would be able to choose. Yet here I am warring inwardly because all but one stubborn part of me has moved on. I wish I could identify that last part; it's little but it's damn strong. I want to pry away the fingers that grip the pain, holding it in place, but I can't find them. So I just sit here feeling it, feeling disgusted with myself. Nothing we had was worth this.
I'm supposed to be writing a paper about human trafficking in Thailand. I wonder how I could possibly succumb to this pitiful claim to pain when the world is full of nightmares like that. Then the shame sweeps over me again. I tried watching some documentary style clips on YouTube to get myself passionate enough to write but I found that when the clips ended I felt like I had just watched a movie. With my own pain sitting on my chest and tightness of the pretty college bubble immobilizing my integrity it just seemed unreal and therefore unimportant.
It's interesting that the same personal trait that should have me writing furiously about this issue is the same one preventing me from moving out of this slump.
I don't know if spitting this out into livejournal will help at all but I figured it's worth a try.
I'm still waiting to stop caring about something pointless and empty and trying to start living for something of value.
The pain's been stronger lately. I was doing well for a while, and I still am, it just hurts a bit more. It's frustrating not understanding why it matters to me anymore. You'd think a person would be able to choose. Yet here I am warring inwardly because all but one stubborn part of me has moved on. I wish I could identify that last part; it's little but it's damn strong. I want to pry away the fingers that grip the pain, holding it in place, but I can't find them. So I just sit here feeling it, feeling disgusted with myself. Nothing we had was worth this.
I'm supposed to be writing a paper about human trafficking in Thailand. I wonder how I could possibly succumb to this pitiful claim to pain when the world is full of nightmares like that. Then the shame sweeps over me again. I tried watching some documentary style clips on YouTube to get myself passionate enough to write but I found that when the clips ended I felt like I had just watched a movie. With my own pain sitting on my chest and tightness of the pretty college bubble immobilizing my integrity it just seemed unreal and therefore unimportant.
It's interesting that the same personal trait that should have me writing furiously about this issue is the same one preventing me from moving out of this slump.
I don't know if spitting this out into livejournal will help at all but I figured it's worth a try.
I'm still waiting to stop caring about something pointless and empty and trying to start living for something of value.