October 24, 2007. I don’t know what made me pull up this date randomly on my old blog over at the long-defunct Myspace. But what shocked me is how this exact thing. This exact thing. Not a little different. The exact same fucking thing is going on in my life right now.
It really does repeat itself. What a fucking trip…
October 24, 2007….
I don’t like change. I’m a creature of habit. Once, when I was about 5, my mother moved the furniture around while I was gone.
I came back and tearfully tried to push the furniture back to it’s original location.
It’s a weird manifestation, really. I live in this dream world, this superficial realm that isn’t based on anything in reality. In my eyes, I’m still 20 years old…just graduating college…and enjoying everything that comes along with that.
Let’s see…I want to look back for a second. 20. I had just gotten my degree. My first *paid* gig in radio (which is still the one I’m at…only it’s different now. I’m not the noob.). I was beginning a new relationship with one of the most compelling people I had ever met…there was a lot of glitz, a lot of glamor…trips, drinks, people, things that I…presumably, had never experienced before.
I spent most of my “adult” life being the girl who wasn’t like every other girl. My friends were into things that I wasn’t…but we loved each other nonetheless. I didn’t pay any attention to things like dating during my teen years…I had far too much going on between competitions in band, marching band, symphony, wind ensemble, debate, and then finally…my passion….competing on speech team doing prose and radio commentary. If there was a boy, he was there…if not, I had other interesting things to do.
Most of my friends were wrapped up in their own little personal soap operas, I didn’t care for that. It seemed much too…fake.
I’ve uprooted everything I know twice in my life. Well, almost twice. And “both” times were extremely profound discoveries in my life. That’s what you get when you’ve only spent one year since you were seventeen outside of a long term relationship. But that was my choice. I don’t regret it. It made me who I am.
But…it doesn’t make the change part any less easy. Or hard. As I look to what my life has dwindled to as of lately…my day to day life…I wonder how everything can change so much in just a few short years.
When every day to you…is the most important day of your life (like I try to treat it), looking back blows you away. You get such a mix of everything…happy, sad, angry…shock at how far you’ve come…and dismay at how far you still have to go.
But, living in the past is like living in a dream. And I need to stop doing both. This is what it is, this is how it is. And only I can make the final decision as to what my next step will be. Which sucks. I don’t like that position at all. In my world of smiles and music and huge sunglasses, drinks and friends…nothing is serious. Nothing is final…and everything works itself out in the end.
Kind of idealistic, no?
I guess it’s part of growing up. I guess it’s that time in my life where nothing makes sense…and everything isn’t sunshine. The drinks are watered down, the music is horrid…and the smile is only flashed when it’s genuine…instead of all the time.
I don’t like it. I’m a calculated person. I think of life as a chess game…one strategic move at a time. That’s how I’ve slowly accomplished EVERYTHING. Every little tiny victory pumps up my ego to the size of a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade Balloon. Only the people have lost the wires on me…and I’m slowly floating above the skyrises, past the buildings…and up into the clouds.
But yet, for some reason…I feel more grounded than I ever have in my life. It’s real. It’s not some dreamworld I’ve been creating in my head. It’s not some wonderful utopia where I can conquer the world with the drop of a hat…and where my heart controls the inner workings of the universe.
I’m selfish. And selfless…if that makes sense. Selfish because I live in this make believe world inside of a realistic one…and selfless because I would do anything for those close to me.
But most of all, I’m lost. And confused. Remember- I’m still that girl…that one with the dorky vintage tshirts and more video games than anyone I’ve ever dated. The girl who compulsively rides her bike and picks a cruiser made out of solid steel instead of a more realistic street bike.
I’m irrational. I’m idealistic. And I’m stylistic.
But as for the idealist in me, I’d rather stand for something that would make the world a better place…than nothing at all. And I’d rather be totally irrational, instead of apathetic. The fight against the machine goes on, my friend.
But in the end, I fear I’m still that little girl. That one that comes home from her Grandmother’s in tears…trying to push back the furniture to where it was. To put everything how it was before it got all jumbled up. That little girl was in a world where everything stays happy, where the unicorns dance on rainbows and there’s a choir singing somewhere..and I’m just in the middle of it all doing what I do best- smiling.
Life isn’t like that. And I have to come to the stark realization that life has a certain amount of grime…an ugly side. Where everything doesn’t explain itself…where you wake up on a couch in the living room that you’ve thrived in for the last few years wondering, in the middle of the night…wondering what got you to the particular position you’re in today.
Some of it is me. I know the parts that got me where I am this very second, at least the ones I contributed to. Some of it is no one in particular. It just happened that way.
