Hasta La Vista or Let the Good Times Roll
I haven't posted in this journal in a few years. It's weird to look back and read things I posted when I was 19. Things about boys. Some bits about life in general. And a ton of shit about TV shows I watched. I have so many things to say to that little pseudo_meat, in a condescending grown-up-but-not-matured-up fashion. So I'm going to say those things now:
Hey there. I know things suck where you are. Or I know that you think they do. I base this on all the "locked" posts I'm seeing, despairing about boys and friends and all that. But I'm here to tell you, little sweet psuedo_meat, it's going to get so much worse. You're going to become lazier than you could ever imagine. And you're going to develop this terrible habit of only eating once a day because you'll be too irresponsible to have any respect for your own health. And most of what you'll be eating is carbs. Tons of mashed potatoes. You'll have fun with it though, throwing in the occasional vegetable. You're going to stop watching as much TV, as hard as that is to fathom (hate to break it to you, but House and Cuddy break up). And you're going to develop an affinity for hard apple cider. But one night you're going to drink too much and it will do interesting things with your bowels the following day. You'll make some friends. You'll lose some friends. And you'll learn from it while at the same time being desperately afraid that you won't. Afraid that nothing is to be gained from something so painful. But I'm going to tell you, that you'll figure it out. I am in the unique position to know this because I figured my way around all the problems you're currently having.
You'll set your sights on becoming a writer. Which is a big decision for you. You think it's what you want now but one day you'll read Black Swan Green and you'll realize what it means to really want it. But your laziness will be your greatest foe here. And as someone who has yet to best that beast, let me tell you, it is a sunuvabitch. But a series of particularly horrible consequences will set you on the path of self-awareness. I write to you in that very state, myself.
In a few years time, you will still have yet to get over your miserable penchant for losing things. Important things. But fortunately your mother will come to accept it. And when you call her, crying because you left your car keys somewhere in the airport. And then again a few days later because you dropped your license somewhere on campus, she will tell you, with great hope for your future, that there are things about yourself that you must accept. And love yourself in spite of. But she will never cease to remind you to stop putting your foot in your damn mouth. And to take a good look in the mirror every once and a while. And this will lead to more than one heated argument between you. Here's a tip: Don't kid yourself, she's right.
Which brings me to my final point: your laziness isn't so much your biggest problem as it is a symptom of it. It isn't that you don't like to "do things", as you put it. You only like to do the things you want to do. You do what you want, when you want, with the stubbornness of a hippopotamus (which, as you will learn, is a much more frightening and territorial animal than you thought. Also chimpanzees are awful and will rip your nose off so stop thinking they're cute). And you've developed a way of interacting with the world that enables you to live unchallenged. You are stubborn. Everyone will tell you this. Your friends. Your family. And you won't accept it at first. Or you will accept it secretly, in the dark recesses of your brain where you admit things only to yourself. You put so much weight on being a good person, that falling short of perfect is, for some reason, heartbreaking to you. Don't do that. You're not perfect. And you're not anything like the person you wish you were. You're not quiet or reserved or in any way mysterious. And you are most definitely not a morning person. You're a loud, chatty, night owl. Deal with it.
You will be angry with your peers for pointing out your flaws, and unwilling to accept that they could love you anyway. This will depress you instead of change you. And you will begin to see yourself from the outside looking in. Like astral projection. And you'll notice every insensitive comment. And neglected opportunity. And spend nights crying, wondering why you feel so powerless to change. And something in you will start to grow. Maybe it's something that has been there all along. In any case, it will be there and you will know it. It'll be watching you. Waiting for its moment. Your body will be host to it like the fluke-man episode of the X-files (which, by the way, you will always love). And as it grows, you will become less and less satisfied with how things are going. With who you are. And you'll be unsatisfied with your choices. And unsatisfied with your thoughts. And the growing, nagging, tumor of a feeling in you will start pushing you to do things. Go places you that you can't go now. And make friends you'd never know.
You don't like yourself. But you will. And as I write this, I realize I don't know that for sure. I'm not writing to you from the end of the story. I'm writing to you from the beginning. I'm not that different from you. And I have the same misgivings. But today, I was in the car outside my building and I couldn't decide whether to go back to my apartment and do the same things I always do. Or to go get a milk tea. And drink it on the hood of my car because it felt so nice outside and because I never go outside. And suddenly, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers was coming out of the speakers. As I made the decision to actually do something different, a song started that was like the soundtrack to that moment. The moment I decided to go instead of stay. And as I turned the car around, I was filled with an overwhelming feeling that things were looking up.
Hey there. I know things suck where you are. Or I know that you think they do. I base this on all the "locked" posts I'm seeing, despairing about boys and friends and all that. But I'm here to tell you, little sweet psuedo_meat, it's going to get so much worse. You're going to become lazier than you could ever imagine. And you're going to develop this terrible habit of only eating once a day because you'll be too irresponsible to have any respect for your own health. And most of what you'll be eating is carbs. Tons of mashed potatoes. You'll have fun with it though, throwing in the occasional vegetable. You're going to stop watching as much TV, as hard as that is to fathom (hate to break it to you, but House and Cuddy break up). And you're going to develop an affinity for hard apple cider. But one night you're going to drink too much and it will do interesting things with your bowels the following day. You'll make some friends. You'll lose some friends. And you'll learn from it while at the same time being desperately afraid that you won't. Afraid that nothing is to be gained from something so painful. But I'm going to tell you, that you'll figure it out. I am in the unique position to know this because I figured my way around all the problems you're currently having.
You'll set your sights on becoming a writer. Which is a big decision for you. You think it's what you want now but one day you'll read Black Swan Green and you'll realize what it means to really want it. But your laziness will be your greatest foe here. And as someone who has yet to best that beast, let me tell you, it is a sunuvabitch. But a series of particularly horrible consequences will set you on the path of self-awareness. I write to you in that very state, myself.
In a few years time, you will still have yet to get over your miserable penchant for losing things. Important things. But fortunately your mother will come to accept it. And when you call her, crying because you left your car keys somewhere in the airport. And then again a few days later because you dropped your license somewhere on campus, she will tell you, with great hope for your future, that there are things about yourself that you must accept. And love yourself in spite of. But she will never cease to remind you to stop putting your foot in your damn mouth. And to take a good look in the mirror every once and a while. And this will lead to more than one heated argument between you. Here's a tip: Don't kid yourself, she's right.
Which brings me to my final point: your laziness isn't so much your biggest problem as it is a symptom of it. It isn't that you don't like to "do things", as you put it. You only like to do the things you want to do. You do what you want, when you want, with the stubbornness of a hippopotamus (which, as you will learn, is a much more frightening and territorial animal than you thought. Also chimpanzees are awful and will rip your nose off so stop thinking they're cute). And you've developed a way of interacting with the world that enables you to live unchallenged. You are stubborn. Everyone will tell you this. Your friends. Your family. And you won't accept it at first. Or you will accept it secretly, in the dark recesses of your brain where you admit things only to yourself. You put so much weight on being a good person, that falling short of perfect is, for some reason, heartbreaking to you. Don't do that. You're not perfect. And you're not anything like the person you wish you were. You're not quiet or reserved or in any way mysterious. And you are most definitely not a morning person. You're a loud, chatty, night owl. Deal with it.
You will be angry with your peers for pointing out your flaws, and unwilling to accept that they could love you anyway. This will depress you instead of change you. And you will begin to see yourself from the outside looking in. Like astral projection. And you'll notice every insensitive comment. And neglected opportunity. And spend nights crying, wondering why you feel so powerless to change. And something in you will start to grow. Maybe it's something that has been there all along. In any case, it will be there and you will know it. It'll be watching you. Waiting for its moment. Your body will be host to it like the fluke-man episode of the X-files (which, by the way, you will always love). And as it grows, you will become less and less satisfied with how things are going. With who you are. And you'll be unsatisfied with your choices. And unsatisfied with your thoughts. And the growing, nagging, tumor of a feeling in you will start pushing you to do things. Go places you that you can't go now. And make friends you'd never know.
You don't like yourself. But you will. And as I write this, I realize I don't know that for sure. I'm not writing to you from the end of the story. I'm writing to you from the beginning. I'm not that different from you. And I have the same misgivings. But today, I was in the car outside my building and I couldn't decide whether to go back to my apartment and do the same things I always do. Or to go get a milk tea. And drink it on the hood of my car because it felt so nice outside and because I never go outside. And suddenly, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers was coming out of the speakers. As I made the decision to actually do something different, a song started that was like the soundtrack to that moment. The moment I decided to go instead of stay. And as I turned the car around, I was filled with an overwhelming feeling that things were looking up.