It just won't work today.
You know what I wish?
I wish people had a pact between them, that whenever one person needed a break from life - just to figure things out - just to think for a few days without being interrupted - that everyone would leave them alone.
Why is physical health so much more important than mental health? Or spiritual health?
"Sorry, boss, I have a real bad case of insecurity. I'm not going to be able to make it to work today."
"That's alright, Jensen. You take your time and get some rest. I don't wanna see you in here if you're not feeling up to it, I don't want any of my workers not giving their best. You take all the time you need to get over this thing, I don't want it innerfearin with your work, you got that Johnson?"
"Yes, sir."
"Anything else, Johnson?"
"It's Jensen, sir."
"What?"
"Nevermind. I'll see you in a few days."
We know why it's this way. We can't see it.
We even doubt someone is really physically ill if we can't see the signs.
"No fever? Sorry, bud - you're going to school today!"
Turns out you need a kidney transplant and an antibiotic for walking pneumonia.
What is this obession with seeing things, anyway? Why don't we ever trust ourselves, our friends, our strangers? We don't believe them unless we see it for ourselves. How often do you see something for yourself, in order to prove it's real? Some people don't believe in spirits, robots, or dinosaurs - when any sane human being knows full well that these things are perfectly real.
I wish I could just call in and tell them I'm not up to getting out of bed today. I want to think, I want to linger, I want to figure things out so I don't feel so crummy in that spot beneath my ribs on the left side of my chest. I just hurt, and I need some rest.
I have three midterms to take within the next three days and two final papers to draw up within the next week. I'm scared out of my wits to even get started on any of it because I feel like I'm just going to fail - and once I fail, there's no going back. There's no time to study a few more hours before the test, there's no chance to re-write and proofread and make other people read my drafts over and over again. There's no time for it, no chance for it - grades are simply too concrete.
I don't want to go to school today. The sun is shining and the outside air is crisp and dewey. I want to go on a long Wordsworthian walk - musing to myself and tying up all these ideas in my head.
I want to drive away. When I was home in Washington on days like these I'd get in the car, drive to school, turn in my homework and excuse myself from class.
I'd drive.
I'd come back to Lake Sammamish park and sit in the middle of those four trees in the field. I'd throw my coat out over the ground and look up into the leaves, trying to make shapes out of the branches as they framed the sky. Then I'd walk along the sand next to the lake without shoes on - no matter how cold the water was, I'd always dip my toes in. I'd watch the mist evaporating off the top of the lake and wonder how something so huge could have so few ripples.
Then I wonder if anything I do makes any ripples.
And I throw a rock into the lake.
And it ripples.
So I get in the car and drive home.
These are songs that I've been listening to, to try and make me feel like I've come out on top.
They are songs that make me feel good about being me.
Watching the Wheels - John Lennon
Here I Go Again - Whitesnake
I'm A Cuckoo - Belle & Sebastian
Queen Bitch - David Bowie
Oh! You Pretty Things - David Bowie
Teenage Wasteland - The Who
The Inner Light - The Beatles
And that is all that matters, I suppose.