I cannot focus to save my life.
Where does that leave me then? Stuck in the school's computer lab for another hour or so. This year has moved by so quickly, but as soon as I want it to rush forward, time resembles the wet, disgusting sludge outside we call snow. Perhaps, it's the caffeine that is doing this to me? or is it just my lack of self discipline? Mountain Dew this morning. The cap is a winner again: "Buy one get one free" taunting my sugar habit. I want to go home because maybe I'll be able to focus there.
I've gotten a part in the school's spring musical. I'm excited for it and I just hope that my work will not let me go and still give me hours. Yesterday, I wrote a family Christmas letter that was a little more than two pages long. Mom made me cut it down, but it was a bit difficult. For me writing is something that I just do. There's no planning involved unless I want to sit there biting my nails and stressing myself out for no flipping reason. Really, Christmas letters are such a drag anyways. People always send their Christmas letters with their tacky Christmas paper and the photographs of the family in their matching holiday attire. I wanted to make it slightly entertaining while making us all sound good. I believe my first sentence went something like this.." It has been a year full of busy schedules, frustrating weather patterns, and a strange family fascination with zombies." I feel that traditional is often overrated. Every year my Nana will send out a Christmas letter and will update everyone on her grandchildren. I think last year I got two sentences of the whole thing and, although its difficult to write about someone you only see two months out of the year, you'd think I'd get a little more since my other cousins and uncles, etc are spread out across the country like marmalade. It made me feel like the footnote in a twenty page essay.
...I always feel like I have so much to say that would sound thoughtful, valuable to everyone else. Get the invisible people who read this think a little. Then, I start typing on here and only whine and curse and laugh about my own day. Terrible. Its like the worst comedian in the universe. Speaking of comedians...watched a special on Bo Burnham. Youngest person to get a special on Comedy Central. It was hilarious and I want to see more really soon (okay Bo? I hope that message somehow is transmitted to you on a cellular level). I could never be a comedian and for two reasons: 1) I am not funny. unless we're talking unintentionally funny like making a comment I meant to keep in my head or tripping over myself, and 2) how awkward it must be. Just standing up there on stage, alone...not knowing if you are really going to make anyone laugh or not. Besides all of that though, you still have to deal with transitions. Perhaps, its not as terrible as I'd think it would be but I don't know if I could just smoothly sail from one thing to the next....another reflection of the lack of organization in my life.
I am waiting and waiting and waiting. That's all I do lately. My mind sputters from one thing to the next like an old nickelodeon in black and white. My mind is like one of those nickelodeon movies- the music in my life seems to be directing me from one scene to the next while the camera's picture flickers with jittery anticipation of what is to come. Christmas, graduation, eighteenth birthday, college...but then what? I'm so lost sometimes I don't even know what I will be doing in an hour. Quite troubling....quite troubling, indeed. I miss people too. I miss my family all of the time, whether I see them every day or not. I miss my best friend and I miss the person who feels like my other half sometimes. Its extremely confusing (or maybe I just make things too confusing)- too discover someone and tell them anything about you in one night. I have trust issues and you'd think I'd feel more vulnerable like usual. Rather, I only feel hesitant when I have the chance to think about it. Once I began talking to them again though, it feels okay and I want to smack myself for ever thinking it wasn't.
"No faith," I jokingly say to my mother, but its more like I'm saying it to myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment