I’m scared shitless, every single day.
“go into art…seriously.”
this is the reason i believe in words, no matter how mangled they may come out some days. this is the reason i remember to write.
In honor of this final semester of academically-guided adventure, I’ve decided to resuscitate the fight within me…I’ve decided to keep going.
Tunnel Glimpses.
It’s been years. Years. I shouldn’t feel old enough now to say things like, “Oh, it was years ago.” But it was.
New car. New boots. New coats. New goals. New fears. And the same old tears remain hidden in the ducts that reactively respond when I drive past the streets I walked so many times. I walked without purpose, without guilt. The smell of the morning air never made me sick-it made me free.
I tried to find that freedom in my half-blended midnight chocolate shake I sipped as I passed the streets, but distraction overwhelmed and I looked at the same trees, patches of grass, awkward side roads, and idle lights in windows of neighbors I don’t know, but love none-the-less. I traced the way back to you.
You’re not there anymore. This I know.
It probably smells the same. It’s the only thing that’s remained for so long.
I won’t feel guilty for using it as a daily source of inspiration.
It’s been years, and there’s still a light at the end of the tunnel.
The Truth:
If I could, right now…I’d drop everything:
buy a typewriter,
lease an apartment with a view (in Scotland),
chop off all my hair and then spike up the remaining pixied pieces,
call all of the ex-friends, boyfriends, and family members I’ve learned from, but in the hard way,
put all the money I have (which isn’t much) in an old shoebox I’ve had for too long,
buy a really nice pen, and some really old paper (the kind that smells musty)
and find every possible outlet (short of climbing Edinburgh’s inactive volcano and screaming to my lung’s extent) to explain to the world how much I’ve learned, haven’t figured out yet, and planned to understand in the following months of writing, listening, dreaming, and talking to foreign corners of my room and people at the store.
Unfortunately, today’s not the day for that.
Tomorrow’s not either.
But someday, you’ll know when, I’ll make myself clear.
Must. Be. Efficient. (Or not…)
I absolutely loathe those weeks in life when you’re more unmotivated than you’ve ever been in the history of your existence. I’m amidst one of those weeks, calling me back to bed at the worst time possible. WHY can’t I convince myself to do anything remotely productive? That is…besides updating my tumblr and requesting the Internet acknowledge me as a member of the immense number of distracted worldwide citizens attempting to detach themselves from the eternal to-do list.
Inspiration. Now. Or I’m rolling over and falling back asleep. :(
