Don't mind me...
I wrote this earlier today when I was in an...odd mood. Still, looking at it now...it holds all too true. I tried to explain it to someone but...I failed. Horribly. I can't seem to articulate my words when I need them most. I suck at life. -------
I’m considering beginning an essay on the feeling of only being half a person. This is…a little odd I know. I know I’ve tried to explain it to a few people but have gotten reactions such as, “No no you’re not half a person at all, or geez Jessi don’t be so hard on yourself” etc etc. I can understand this. Perhaps I expect this reaction, even now. It’s just…this is the way it is. This is the way it has always been. This is the way it will be.
But it’s not a bad thing. It’s something I can work with. Something I can live with. Something I have to cooperate with or forever struggle against. I’m not up for that though, that’s bullshit. I’m adaptable, incredibly adaptable…
Ever wonder why my sister is amazing at math, numbers, science while I stare at it like it’s a foreign language. No, I can learn a foreign language. There is a possibility there. There isn’t with numbers. Srsly. But here I am with words and books and poetry and all the things she wish she could do but just…can’t. I mean, of course she can read and write and all those things but for some reason I got the natural talent.
As womb-mates, we share a lot of similarities and differences and yes yes…all this can be accounted for by the fact that all siblings are this way. But…this is different. Because I feel it. And I know it. I gleam. I’m a gleamer.
When I am around people, I gleam what makes them THEM and I take it. I fucking steal it because I am always looking for that other half. I don’t even have a sense of self, I feel like this thing floating through time and space. I used to do this thing when I was a kid, let’s say 10 or so. I would have thought about reality and my place in it, and I would think about my thoughts, the act of thinking, and it would snap something in my head and I would feel like I was about to vomit. It’d be like going down that first giant hill on a roller coaster but I’d panic, stop the ride, beg to get off.
I want back on. I want right the fuck, back on. Now. There was something THERE some important bit of information I was suppose to know and I panicked, I fucking failed to know what it is that I was so close to knowing. Perhaps I’d understand why I feel like I do. Why I am only half a person.
But life isn’t over. I have another chance. I won’t run this time. I will embrace it because it is what I am, whatever that is. I have a million halves to chose from, and I switch between them ALL THE TIME. Haven’t you noticed, dear friends of mine, how I switch so quickly? Hyper Jessi, quiet Jessi, Nervous as all fuck Jessi, Slut Jessi, Bitch Jessi, Guru Jessi, it goes on and on and on…the list does. Perhaps it’s subtle. Perhaps my friends just thought I was having a bad day. But in my head things TWIST and TURN and they change. I know they’ve changed…but…only a bit. It’s…fucked up. Which Jessi am I right now? Fuck. I don’t know. No…I do know. This is the Jessi I gleamed from the scum pond of the writerly world. This is the Jessi I inhabit when I do my best work. Although this is not my best work. This is a musing. A consideration. A ponderation. There is little real writerly thought going into the words here. I just need to put them out.
That’s the point of a blog anyway, isn’t it?
This blog is weird, I know. But it’s important to me. It may be part of a puzzle I’ve been trying to piece together for longer than I can remember. It explains so much and yet leaves so much open. I think I know the next step from here is learning to control which half I’m currently inhabiting.
I’m considering beginning an essay on the feeling of only being half a person. This is…a little odd I know. I know I’ve tried to explain it to a few people but have gotten reactions such as, “No no you’re not half a person at all, or geez Jessi don’t be so hard on yourself” etc etc. I can understand this. Perhaps I expect this reaction, even now. It’s just…this is the way it is. This is the way it has always been. This is the way it will be.
But it’s not a bad thing. It’s something I can work with. Something I can live with. Something I have to cooperate with or forever struggle against. I’m not up for that though, that’s bullshit. I’m adaptable, incredibly adaptable…
Ever wonder why my sister is amazing at math, numbers, science while I stare at it like it’s a foreign language. No, I can learn a foreign language. There is a possibility there. There isn’t with numbers. Srsly. But here I am with words and books and poetry and all the things she wish she could do but just…can’t. I mean, of course she can read and write and all those things but for some reason I got the natural talent.
As womb-mates, we share a lot of similarities and differences and yes yes…all this can be accounted for by the fact that all siblings are this way. But…this is different. Because I feel it. And I know it. I gleam. I’m a gleamer.
When I am around people, I gleam what makes them THEM and I take it. I fucking steal it because I am always looking for that other half. I don’t even have a sense of self, I feel like this thing floating through time and space. I used to do this thing when I was a kid, let’s say 10 or so. I would have thought about reality and my place in it, and I would think about my thoughts, the act of thinking, and it would snap something in my head and I would feel like I was about to vomit. It’d be like going down that first giant hill on a roller coaster but I’d panic, stop the ride, beg to get off.
I want back on. I want right the fuck, back on. Now. There was something THERE some important bit of information I was suppose to know and I panicked, I fucking failed to know what it is that I was so close to knowing. Perhaps I’d understand why I feel like I do. Why I am only half a person.
But life isn’t over. I have another chance. I won’t run this time. I will embrace it because it is what I am, whatever that is. I have a million halves to chose from, and I switch between them ALL THE TIME. Haven’t you noticed, dear friends of mine, how I switch so quickly? Hyper Jessi, quiet Jessi, Nervous as all fuck Jessi, Slut Jessi, Bitch Jessi, Guru Jessi, it goes on and on and on…the list does. Perhaps it’s subtle. Perhaps my friends just thought I was having a bad day. But in my head things TWIST and TURN and they change. I know they’ve changed…but…only a bit. It’s…fucked up. Which Jessi am I right now? Fuck. I don’t know. No…I do know. This is the Jessi I gleamed from the scum pond of the writerly world. This is the Jessi I inhabit when I do my best work. Although this is not my best work. This is a musing. A consideration. A ponderation. There is little real writerly thought going into the words here. I just need to put them out.
That’s the point of a blog anyway, isn’t it?
This blog is weird, I know. But it’s important to me. It may be part of a puzzle I’ve been trying to piece together for longer than I can remember. It explains so much and yet leaves so much open. I think I know the next step from here is learning to control which half I’m currently inhabiting.