(no subject)
it seems like so long since i was but a mere child of 6 and i ran around attached to my mothers leg, wanting every toy we passed as we strolled through the stores and malls. asking, "whats that?" every time i saw something i had never seen. a deafening 14 years later and i still find myself wanting that pleasure. to be carried around and taken care of. but then again, i'm somewhat sick of being irresponsible. i want to be older, but not much older. 25 is a good age. i can stop there. no more growing old after i get to 25. so, im buying a house. and moving out, this time for good. no more coming back home, retreating. its going to be me and my bed. alone and alone. seperately together. i'm starting to think about the future more and more. more than i did before. it used to seem so far off, but now its like it's right around the corner. thats scary. work things are going well. the friend department is always dwindling and refilling and dwindling again. its sad. all my friends that ive made in the past two or three years are all graduating from high school and i feel so old. and left out somehow. they're all talking about commencement and the last day of school. and i wasn't there for either of those things when i graduated. and ever since then (graduating) i feel like i've been stuck in some sort of vegetative state. pondering, something more than can be accomplished, or could be accomplished if i ever gave it the attention it deserved. like school for instance. i wish i could go back to school full time. take classes, study, do homework and write papers. but it seems that as more and more time passes, i have less and less time and ability to do these things, and i fear that, if i wait too long, i'll never get to do them. i mean, i dont want to work at home depot for the rest of my life. its not a carreer. its a jumping off point. i need release. i want to take pictures and write articles. and draw things and design ads and posters. but i feel that i dont have enough creativity. i want to take a vacation. but i cant. i want to just drive somewhere. maybe nebraska or montana and just be free in every sense of the word.
but as someone once said in a song by a band that no longer exists, "complications, complicated everything".
and yes these complications have left me staggering and and trying to remember how it feels to be loved and truly cared about by someone other than my mother. i think im growing more scared of being alone. im afraid of beautiful people, and feel looked down upon, like i could never live up to anyones standards. and yet i think of myself sometimes as better; better than, well, everyone. and im not. im starving for humbleness and sincerity. i want to do things because i want to do them, and not because i think that's what everyone wants me to do. i want to write sentences that have meaning and aren't just pretty because i wanted them to be. i want them to be truly beautiful. i want my music to be the same. undeniably beautiful.
sleep hasn't been going so well. it always seems like such a struggle to fall and stay asleep. always being tired and just looking dead is old. i feel so empty inside. like there isn't anything that really matters anymore. all my friends are moving away in the fall. and im still stuck here. why? im not sure. but i want to find out.
its 11:30 and i have to be up at 5 to go to work. again, why? im not sure. so ill call it a night and seal this letter with a sigh. and let down shoulders. they are heavy they are weak.
im re-falling in love with the cranberries
but as someone once said in a song by a band that no longer exists, "complications, complicated everything".
and yes these complications have left me staggering and and trying to remember how it feels to be loved and truly cared about by someone other than my mother. i think im growing more scared of being alone. im afraid of beautiful people, and feel looked down upon, like i could never live up to anyones standards. and yet i think of myself sometimes as better; better than, well, everyone. and im not. im starving for humbleness and sincerity. i want to do things because i want to do them, and not because i think that's what everyone wants me to do. i want to write sentences that have meaning and aren't just pretty because i wanted them to be. i want them to be truly beautiful. i want my music to be the same. undeniably beautiful.
sleep hasn't been going so well. it always seems like such a struggle to fall and stay asleep. always being tired and just looking dead is old. i feel so empty inside. like there isn't anything that really matters anymore. all my friends are moving away in the fall. and im still stuck here. why? im not sure. but i want to find out.
its 11:30 and i have to be up at 5 to go to work. again, why? im not sure. so ill call it a night and seal this letter with a sigh. and let down shoulders. they are heavy they are weak.
im re-falling in love with the cranberries