...And So, the Dreamer Keeps Dreaming
In some ways, to be numb is to be free.
A crystal chandelier spins like a kaleidoscope. A room fills with swaying figures in paper masks. This is the way the world perceives to me at times.
Don’t let anyone in. Don’t believe everything you hear. If you drop your guard, that gaudy chandelier could plummet straight onto your head, a hundred crystal shards slashing away your flesh. And that will be it. Game over.
I’ve come to find that some of the people I know are overrated. Sure they’re amazing and sure I love them no matter what, but they can be so conceded and so inconsiderate and so fake.
It’s really sad to be so lacerated that you no longer feel the pain.
Hello again, it’s been a while. As I blow away the month or so of dust, I ponder on when I will write, if I ever decide to, again in here.
I wrote the words in italics months ago... and then decided not to post it. But in some ways they are still true to me. At times, like now, I feel as if I disconnect myself from my emotions as a self-protective mechanism.
If I don’t, I just might have an emotional break-down that would include, but not limited to: screaming, uncontrollable crying, tearing at hair, scratching at flesh, and the feeling that my ribs are going to cave-in on themselves.
Sounds like fun, hu? “Come on Heather, give the kids a show!” Oh I’ll give a show all right!
On a less sarcastic note- I know that sort of situation isn’t healthy. But, hell, we all have to experience pieces of the inferno so that we will unearth real peace and happiness in ourselves. I know that it sounds cliché and corny, but that’s just how life works.
And my life, well, to say the least, has been one hell of a ride. It’s been one never-ending spiral, a teenaged soap opera; where I’m the best friend, a side character, who only finds herself trapped in bizarre situations, love-triangles, and helping out the main characters when they need it. But then again, I have finally experienced some success this year for my constant vigor in art. My portfolio was named best of district and best of division four. Plus I won the Art Departmental Award. Wow. I’m still a bit in shock from it all. Despite what some of my loved-ones have said, I never found myself to be as fantastically creative or artistic as some of the artists around me.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with friendship issues and moving and the possibility that my dad is dying...
Yeah. My world sure does have a funny way of showing balance.
But that’s mostly behind me now. I know who my real friends are; and, in spite of occasional pensive moments, I regret nothing. I’ve come to find living in an apartment adventurous and liberating. And, thank God, it turns out that my dad has some sort of stomach acid problem, which is treatable and not fatal.
So, once again, everything comes out in the wash, keeping my optimism mostly in tact and disclaiming my need of a psychiatrist. The only marks left behind are the infrequent bitter loneliness, which I can cure by reading or watching a carefully selected material, or with a simple phone call to a trusty friend.
Which is exactly what I’m going to go do now.
Good bye! Au revoir! Ciao! Adios! Sayonara!
“So long, and thanks for all the fish.”