Sometimes
Sometimes I think that when you finally become confortable with yourself, you lose track of who you are. You forget the little things that you love or hate, like how, often times, you contradict things you've said before, or how you can't remember the last time you cried, and you can't figure out whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. Because when you are comfortable with yourself, you stop striving for change, you stop analyzing yourself. Comfort, in a way, becomes stagnant, like stewing in your own image, your own being. It's like when you're going to bed and you find the most comfortable position to sleep in, but a few minutes later you find yourself rolling around because your neck hurts. Routines become old, but so hard to break. I can't bring myself to go out on Sunday nights. I can't bring myself to stay in on Friday nights. I can't bring myself to stop window shopping. I can't bring myself to stop liking bright curtains and longing for new bedspreads.
Every new school year, I go into it thinking that this year is going to spawn the birth of "a new me", but to my horror, I am always the same. The changes that I put effort into are merely on the surface, shallow, allowing me the luxury and illusion that things have, indeed, changed. Buying things while window shopping and getting new bedspreads have always been the change I help to fuel. Do you think if I bought a new alarm clock, I would find it easier to get up in the morning? Would it make me want to go to class?
Every new school year, I go into it thinking that, over the summer, I have made some sort of personal progress, that I will finally be able to walk confidently down main roads and raise my hand in classes. But every year I get there, and I'm never what I thought I was. Every summer I build tall monuments of my ideal life in my brain, and I spend all winter realizing that nothing will ever live up to the bricks inside my head.
Every new school year, I go into it thinking, "How could I have been sad last year? Life is great! I'll be fine." And then I read The Bell Jar or Baudelaire, and I'm done.
Life is made up of cycles, of circular motions that bring you back to times in your life where you feel the same about things. You can't go back to a time, but you can go back to how that time made you feel.
I run around in circles in my basement to Beatles' songs, thinking about Paul McCartney and John Lennon, but wanting to be like George Harrison.
Would it have been different if I had started over again two years ago?
I want to run a straight line.
Probably not.
-Katie
Every new school year, I go into it thinking that this year is going to spawn the birth of "a new me", but to my horror, I am always the same. The changes that I put effort into are merely on the surface, shallow, allowing me the luxury and illusion that things have, indeed, changed. Buying things while window shopping and getting new bedspreads have always been the change I help to fuel. Do you think if I bought a new alarm clock, I would find it easier to get up in the morning? Would it make me want to go to class?
Every new school year, I go into it thinking that, over the summer, I have made some sort of personal progress, that I will finally be able to walk confidently down main roads and raise my hand in classes. But every year I get there, and I'm never what I thought I was. Every summer I build tall monuments of my ideal life in my brain, and I spend all winter realizing that nothing will ever live up to the bricks inside my head.
Every new school year, I go into it thinking, "How could I have been sad last year? Life is great! I'll be fine." And then I read The Bell Jar or Baudelaire, and I'm done.
Life is made up of cycles, of circular motions that bring you back to times in your life where you feel the same about things. You can't go back to a time, but you can go back to how that time made you feel.
I run around in circles in my basement to Beatles' songs, thinking about Paul McCartney and John Lennon, but wanting to be like George Harrison.
Would it have been different if I had started over again two years ago?
I want to run a straight line.
Probably not.
-Katie