Thursday, September 29, 2011


A new, tiny, miniature goal of mine is to write something every day.

From a single sentence to a novella.

Here goes.

Life is crazy. News to no one. Things change slowly, and they change fast. Our minds twist and bend in exotic ways until we read a journal entry from tne years ago and roll our eyes, blush with embarrassment and, hopefully, chuckle. Christ, I'm only 22. I'll probably roll my eyes at this tomorrow, because I NEVER feel like I adequately express emotion with words, spoken or written. And I'm a writer. Or, I want to be. I'll always write, even if I'm never paid a dime. I freelance! Does that count? Sure! Stream-of-conscience, A.D.D.....The rain stopped!

Oh, yes, I'll be rolling my eyes at this.

Tuesday I took my mom out for her (belated) birthday dinner, and we both realized the last time we'd been to that restaurant was last year, for her birthday. And while some things have changed, too many things are still the same. Which is a tired old broken record I am sick to death of singing/hearing.

Change: I moved out!
Same: Same job. Same person.

Occurrences: I went to Iceland! And Harry Potter World! I lived a summer in a basement with one of my most favorite people! I did stuff!

...But I'm still the same. I'm still me. Sometimes, I think, I haven't changed at all.

And the sad stuff. That I can never bring myself to mention outright to friends and acquaintances, so I tuck it into a tiny box, hoping to forget.

Why is it that when you're alone, the sad stuff is all that you think about? My head always writes the sad story. It dwells, it takes forever to let go. My head is a bitter old person, harping on the past and how she was wronged. (Yikes. That was a terrifying sentence.)

I'm struggling with the idea that who I want to be and who I am are drastically different, perhaps separated by an uncrossable chasm. I am impatient and unsympathetic with others because I am impatient and unsympathetic with myself. I am stuck. So stuck.

I know life will get better eventually, and I also know that it will happen when I make it happen. It's just the when. When. When. When will I get up off the couch and change myself and my life. When will I demand better for myself? When will I make things change?

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