"What is to become of me?" Round 2
I need to start writing again.
Like, making the time and just doing it, dammit, and stop letting my head get away and letting it all get out.
I've had so much of my identity in writing for so long and recently I've felt it sort of slipping away. It's something I love, and when I do it, I'm happy -- but I don't know. I am finding happiness in other people, so much lately, that I'm forgetting to find happiness inside myself.
I wonder if that forgetfulness can become permanent - like my love of art, which has slowly dwindled into nothing.
My mom said something to me today, implying that she thinks I'm going to move the world. But I really couldn't care less. I'd rather just sit in my room and cry about the boy I want to marry and in whom I'd decided upon, for everything. And the truth is it shouldn't have changed this, my desire for this, but at some point it did.
Somewhere along the lines I got all screwed up and grounded so much in reality that I lost myself and my inspiration in the process.
But all the same, I miss someone:
You are like those scarves, those white beach waves -
I can't go near you, you're cold, my love, yet I long for you
Like, making the time and just doing it, dammit, and stop letting my head get away and letting it all get out.
I've had so much of my identity in writing for so long and recently I've felt it sort of slipping away. It's something I love, and when I do it, I'm happy -- but I don't know. I am finding happiness in other people, so much lately, that I'm forgetting to find happiness inside myself.
I wonder if that forgetfulness can become permanent - like my love of art, which has slowly dwindled into nothing.
My mom said something to me today, implying that she thinks I'm going to move the world. But I really couldn't care less. I'd rather just sit in my room and cry about the boy I want to marry and in whom I'd decided upon, for everything. And the truth is it shouldn't have changed this, my desire for this, but at some point it did.
Somewhere along the lines I got all screwed up and grounded so much in reality that I lost myself and my inspiration in the process.
But all the same, I miss someone:
You are like those scarves, those white beach waves -
I can't go near you, you're cold, my love, yet I long for you