(no subject)
When I was in grade school I spend the interim between the end of school and the beginning of dinner at the local library. Every day I rode the bus to a stop two blocks from downtown. I hated the smell of the bus and I always sat alone. I would sing to myself in my seat, and continue to sing to myself on my short walk. Perhaps I was too young to be self aware, because I don't ever remember it occuring to me that if I were not the odd girl singing to herself...I might not have been sitting alone.
When I got to the library I would do my homework, and then read. And read. And read. I loved the smell of the library. I wasn't afraid of the people there and I didn't always sit alone. I felt proud of myself often - for loving something I could never have a claim on.
Since my last update here, and perhaps long before that - I lost track of myself. I have slipped into all the most treacherous parts of adulthood. I do my job without complaint. I pay my bills. I keep myself fed. There is very little art in this, but I thought it would please other people. It seems that most of what I do is a direct result of provocation. Newton's Law as applied to society. I am a citizen of the mundane. I commit no crimes, but feel no passion. I am absolving one but not myself.
At the local book sale, held in my after-school sanctuary I found the marble statue that I would once pour over. I traced the turtle at the hand of a woman frozen as stone. I feel potential. I am uninspiring and there is much I should have said. I cannot continue saying nothing.
When I got to the library I would do my homework, and then read. And read. And read. I loved the smell of the library. I wasn't afraid of the people there and I didn't always sit alone. I felt proud of myself often - for loving something I could never have a claim on.
Since my last update here, and perhaps long before that - I lost track of myself. I have slipped into all the most treacherous parts of adulthood. I do my job without complaint. I pay my bills. I keep myself fed. There is very little art in this, but I thought it would please other people. It seems that most of what I do is a direct result of provocation. Newton's Law as applied to society. I am a citizen of the mundane. I commit no crimes, but feel no passion. I am absolving one but not myself.
At the local book sale, held in my after-school sanctuary I found the marble statue that I would once pour over. I traced the turtle at the hand of a woman frozen as stone. I feel potential. I am uninspiring and there is much I should have said. I cannot continue saying nothing.