waitin' for a superman
i was lifting a box full of books last week and realized i'm not strong enough. it's a time of revelations, this one. i'm not strong enough for many things.
i'm not strong enough to get over feeling emotionally challenged, nor strong enough to persist in this condition.
i'm not strong enough to carry great weights nor strong enough to ask someone to help me.
isn't it silly? i considered just sitting around somewhere, waiting for some superhero to pull me out of my feeling so worthless and inconsistent, and ended up feeling entirely pissed off at myself because that is not the sort of girl i want to be.
on the other hand, what kind of girl do i want to be? i've tried throwing myself into work and it got me nowhere, dedication to strong idealistic notions left me clueless, traveling only has the effect of making me believe i've finally changed when i'm on the other side of the planet just to drift back into my old melancholic self once at home. i picked up acting and dropped it, chickened away from my piano and abandoned my journal and writing altogether. i've avoided all the answers i used to have when i was younger in order to avoid disappointing myself now that i know i cannot be that sort of person anymore, and i thought this would show me which way to go from here.
but it hasn't, and whereas before i was tired with being me, now i'm tired of not knowing who i want to be.
deconstructing yourself to reveal your real you sounds so great and zen, but probably we're not all equipped to manage that sort of shit. or at least, i definitely am not. i feel like an ikea piece of furniture right now, tried to build myself up, thought i followed all the instructions, but the final result doesn't seem that great and besides that, why are there three screws and a plastic panel left over?
but there, there, it's not that i'm seeking sympathy or answers here. i guess i need to write this stuff down somewhere, get it off me, become a stranger to it, an alien who reads it for the first time, and perhaps at that point i'll have a nice and clear point of view that will set everything in the right place. or perhaps not, but at least i'll have updated this journal, reminded myself to check out my long abandoned friends page and had a laugh at my older entries and all the junk they're packed with.
it's not that i've become a cynic. it's just that i don't know where to bump my head anymore. i feel a bit as if i castrated myself: won't wait for superman to save me and at the same time not strong enough to become superman. must i therefore resign to be a mere human who will never get rid of the ghosts and scars and will never know which way to go? if we exist to live, then we should strive to make our lives worth living, but how the fuck are we supposed to do that if we don't know where to start from? i'm not just having problems figuring out what would make me happy here, but also wondering who the hell is me. so far i've just proved to myself who i'm not. i have people saying that that's already something, but it's not a result i can rejoice in. at least not for over six months. i was hoping to get a bit further by now, dammit.
so it happened that three weeks ago a friend of mine suggested that i think too much. i looked right into her blue eyes and decided she was right. since then i've been going out on every possible occasion trying hard to get drunk everytime. but you see, that can't possibly be the right solution, can it? maybe i do think too much, but really, not thinking hasn't made me feel any better, and usually the means i go through to prevent annoying thoughts to pop up also prevent me from being active in other ways.
and time's ticking, even this journal that i have neglected so often is proof for it. how have i changed from when six years ago i started it? apparently the only difference from then is that i grew slightly taller and thinner, and somehow this doesn't really make me feel an accomplished woman. i need to watch movies even to get the notion of what an accomplished woman is. drat.
[picture lyrics © the Flaming Lips]
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