Thinking on a Saturday

So I was speaking to a good friend of mine about how he refuses to read my journal entries simply because I should be able to tell him what is going on in my life, without him having to read it.

My response was: Well, I wrote it so I wouldn’t have to tell you. hahaha.

Another friend of mine commented on liking to read my bme entries because what I wrote about gave him insight into me, and he always knew that if he didn’t have time to call me, or things didn’t figure appropriately into our lives, that he could read about it.

I wonder what the whole purpose of me writing in this shit is anyhow. No one comments on it. I am not hostile because my words don’t hit people with any kind of real force, but because I am like that, a limp flower who isn’t really fabulous at anything, but okay at most things.

It’s funny. I am one of those people that stands out like a sore thumb when I am out and about, and as J has pointed out, most people do look at me. He commented that he would like to implant thoughts into their heads sometimes to just chill out and understand they don’t know me, because most people are irreverently hostile to me. It could be a glance or a smirk, but I often feel the hostility in even the most basic energy that is thrown my way.

It’s funny, because I have basically turned the tables in some ways to what I was as a kid-invisible by sight and whispering to be heard. Now I can turn heads whenever I feel the need, but my existence, except to very very few, is completely trivial.

One of my biggest fears as a kid was not being heard. I guess it’s the same now. But what am I saying?

Nothing. And that scares me. I know I am supposed to feel like there is some other higher purpose to my existence, but I think it might be as simple as “at least your life isn’t this shitty”. I am here to remind you all that you need to take every opportunity extended to you, enjoy your life, your time, your health, your friends, your family, and the presents that life hands you, in whatever form they might choose to represent themselves.

The funny thing is that I am no longer angry about any of it, I have just settled into it. I really have no choice. The magical opportunity fairy totally neglected to stop by my doorstep. and not through lack of effort. not through lack of trying, or being impaled by karma. it just skipped out.

Oh that poor apathy-struck girl.

But this is my life, in synopsis, and although I am certainly not adverse to weird shit happening, this is what I have to exist within. This is my self-imposed container. I put it all in here neatly, because the rest of my life is a disaster.

I have no job, no savings, no stock options, no assets, no property. If materialism was a way to define success I would be SOL, but I think not.

I have heart problems that are progressively getting worse and my energy levels for some reason are decreasing almost exponentially. It is not depression, it is my stamina. It has been murdered, and I don’t know how to recreate it.

I have nothing to fall back on, spite a handful of random jobs I worked all in efforts to “try and save to go to school”.

I cannot afford school, nor do I have the endurance to even try and work full-time and go.

Now, I am not a fan of those self-deprecating super depressing mumblings about life sucking and this and that. Shit sucks, but it seems that for most people, there are always big ladders out. I feel fucked up to know that there really is nothing that I have found to hone and craft it as my own. Maybe this is because there are always other people around me who are better at those endeavors than I am. Maybe I haven’t found the right thing.

The thing is: I don’t have a clue how to find out what the “right thing” is, and I don’t really have the energy to try.

I have been strong, been fierce, stood up for myself and not let anyone kick me down. I have spit in the face of probability by walking away from 3 stupid surgeries in the first place, with very little to complain about. I have preached and talked and talked and talked about working hard, and getting what you want, and that dreams are always within reach. Dreams have been just that for me- fantastic little illusions that haven’t gone, nor are going anywhere.

The dream queen is dead.

And she isn’t coming up for anyone.

Good luck, all.

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