(no subject)
It's weird to think that i could sit at my desk wandering aimlessly through the internet...not knowing where each link will take me or what might pop up as the next page loads...its kinda like life isnt it?
I spend too many hours here at my desk, either thinking, doing homework, online, or even eating. Sometimes i wish i didnt have this desk, so that maybe i'd bring myself to go outside and face whatever is there waiting for me. Its comforting and yet stupid to know that at the end of my day i get to come back to my apartment and be able to sit and clear my mind at this desk.
I could have another place to go, like a place my the fountains on campus, or on the grass by the library, or even inside the many coffeeshops inside the buildings.
This is my place to hide.
To hide my fear, my achilles heel, if you will.
Here in my room, at my desk , in this chair, nobody has to see me struggle, fight my insides, or worry about how i am doing. At least they know im at least safe within these walls.
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All of this is at the same time is contradictory to the other part of me that is fearless and courageous.
On the track, i don't care if people see me at my worst or fighting to find that extra inch of stride. Here i am the gutsy person that i've claimed to be. My strength and will to push boundaries is most apparent here.
I could spend my entire day on the track field, either stretching, laying around, or even watching others workout.
Off the track, i wish i could travel to other states, countries, continents, even. Heck, i wish i could explore this damn city and find what its trying to show me. I know that Houston at times is not the place i'd rather be, but right now its what i call home, and i feel its my part as a student to keeplearning about it.
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There are times when i wish more people could read this journal. My parents, therapist, coach...maybe they would understand what i'm all about. or what goes through my mind during the week.
Right now, i wish my mother would read this. I have not spoken to her in almost a month. To keep it short, we got into an argument around the time i first found out that i was pretty much injured.
Torn, hurt, and worried, i reached out to her and all she did was provide criticism. So i hung up the phone (to protect myself) and texted her to not call me back. & that was the last time we spoke.
I wish she could be more like my dad and just listen, not give input and just empathize with what im going through. My therapist should not have to be the only woman that hears me cry or knows what has happened to me during the past week.
...I know that we have the power to change things around us, but do we really have the power to not only change ourselves but to change others too?
I spend too many hours here at my desk, either thinking, doing homework, online, or even eating. Sometimes i wish i didnt have this desk, so that maybe i'd bring myself to go outside and face whatever is there waiting for me. Its comforting and yet stupid to know that at the end of my day i get to come back to my apartment and be able to sit and clear my mind at this desk.
I could have another place to go, like a place my the fountains on campus, or on the grass by the library, or even inside the many coffeeshops inside the buildings.
This is my place to hide.
To hide my fear, my achilles heel, if you will.
Here in my room, at my desk , in this chair, nobody has to see me struggle, fight my insides, or worry about how i am doing. At least they know im at least safe within these walls.
---
All of this is at the same time is contradictory to the other part of me that is fearless and courageous.
On the track, i don't care if people see me at my worst or fighting to find that extra inch of stride. Here i am the gutsy person that i've claimed to be. My strength and will to push boundaries is most apparent here.
I could spend my entire day on the track field, either stretching, laying around, or even watching others workout.
Off the track, i wish i could travel to other states, countries, continents, even. Heck, i wish i could explore this damn city and find what its trying to show me. I know that Houston at times is not the place i'd rather be, but right now its what i call home, and i feel its my part as a student to keeplearning about it.
---
There are times when i wish more people could read this journal. My parents, therapist, coach...maybe they would understand what i'm all about. or what goes through my mind during the week.
Right now, i wish my mother would read this. I have not spoken to her in almost a month. To keep it short, we got into an argument around the time i first found out that i was pretty much injured.
Torn, hurt, and worried, i reached out to her and all she did was provide criticism. So i hung up the phone (to protect myself) and texted her to not call me back. & that was the last time we spoke.
I wish she could be more like my dad and just listen, not give input and just empathize with what im going through. My therapist should not have to be the only woman that hears me cry or knows what has happened to me during the past week.
...I know that we have the power to change things around us, but do we really have the power to not only change ourselves but to change others too?