Sometimes I really do wonder about all this stuff floating around in this head of mine. Every day, something new. Sometimes I fear that more of my head is filled with the lyrics of hundreds, maybe thousands, of songs than it is filled with anything else. That sort of scares me, but then I start to think (and the fact that I can think about it shows that my head isn't filled up yet, right?) about just how my mind is working up there. Maybe I have infinitely much space for song lyrics to fit, for the "...if I don't get some shelter, ooh yeah I'm gonna fade away..." and the "...you know she was a dancer, she moved better on wine..." and the "...Monday warrior: mean mean stridw; today's Tom Sawyer: mean mean pride..."
On top of that, I have plenty of brain left to worry about ducks (specifically ducklings, but we'll get to that later) and cats and squirrels and the air in the trees and the trees on the quad and the quad on a new summer's day. Has it really even been summer yet? I don't know. It's felt like it at least.
Today I took something like a nap on a park bench twiddling my thumbs the whole time through.
I want to be a sophomore and still be here and still be in the computer-based honors program so I can be a part of a research project, spend hours in the library, spend hours hunched over a terminal so I can create something and feel invested in it and feel important in that way. Doesn't that just sound miserable? I hope not.
I want to sing. I play Rock Band, sure, but what does that amount to? I sing in the shower, in the car, in the room (especially letting you know that I'm never gonna give you up, let you down, run around or desert you). But I ought to make something out of it, oughtn't I?
I want to read. I have so many books to my name that I have still failed to grace the pages of. That is a shame. I am waiting on the summer to convict myself to pages upon themselves.
Most of all, I want to get hold of who I really am.
I find myself a two-face at the worst times. Sure everyone acts a little different around the different people they know. Other times, a three-face maybe? More than that?
It isn't always in a bad way, either, just.. how do people become the people they are for the rest of their lives? It is just mind-boggling. I want to always be able to joke about some of the things I do, I want to always think about the things I do now, at least on some level, but... I want to be someone fit for being an adult, too. Trust me, if I think of myself as an adult now, it is only on a very small scale. I don't think of myself as ready for nearly anything! Except to take those first few important steps.
I'm trying to do that every day. I know I'm going to crash when I have my first real job interview. I know I'm going to crash when I first really live truly alone. I know I'm going to crash when I first feel old, when everything that comes with being older comes around. Of course I'm scared, shouldn't I be? I hope it's alright, because I don't think it's going anywhere anytime soon.
Will you come with me? I hope so. I need some friends, some ears to talk to, some hands to hold, some hearts to be free with.
I promise I'll try and tell you more soon. I've been in a sort of "rut," I suppose, wherein my mind has just been rolling to any number of things, and have found it hard to express them, I guess. Maybe not even express, because it's not like the whole world surely need hear everything my crazy brain can come up with, right?
But I like sharing, I do.
Stay Woke
4 years ago
