I want to choose everything. I want to drown in choices. I want to choose where I live, want to choose what language I speak, I want to choose who I love and how. I want to choose who to become and I want to choose to not remember certain things and make up others. I want to choose what kind of loneliness I can bear, and what kind of fears I get to keep. I want to choose the shade of happiness I prefer and I want to choose how late into the night is too late. I want to choose to leave everything behind if I think it’s best and I want to not feel guilty all the time for wanting to choose these things. I want to erase all the things I didn’t choose and then choose them again if I see it fit. Or choose the complete opposite. I want to reinvent things, and myself mostly and be more and be less and be everything and nothing. I want. All the time.
Sometimes, I think that my desire to get rid of my accent is so people don’t know that I’m not a native English speaker. Like, sometimes, I have this weird desire of wanting to erase where I come from. I don’t want people to know that my first language is not English. I want to change my name, and I want to live far away. And it’s not because I’m ashamed of it or anything. I just want my self to be built of only things I have chosen.
I don’t know. Sometimes, I don’t understand this strong desire people have to stick to their “roots”, the expectations to always carry this cultural baggage with you. I like being uprooted.
I see a pretty person that makes my insides turn, I want to punch them in the face. How dare they be so beautiful. I talk to SleepyBear on Skype, I want to smash his face on his keyboard because I miss him too much. How dare he do this to me. I read a particularly good story, I want to shred it into pieces, or throw it across the room. How dare it be so well-written and remind me of my inadequacy. I hear a song that moves my heart, I want to break my iPod in two. How dare it make me cry.
How dare anything or anybody make me feel so much. I am leaking everywhere.
But it’s a good thing. I just really really want to punch something too.
“You don’t have to get a job that makes others feel comfortable about what they perceive as your success. You don’t have to explain what you plan to do with your life. You don’t have to justify your education by demonstrating its financial rewards. You don’t have to maintain an impeccable credit score. Anyone who expects you to do any of those things has no sense of history or economics or science or the arts. You have to pay your own electric bill. You have to be kind. You have to give it all you got. You have to find people who love you truly and love them back with the same truth. But that’s all.”—
I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him I miss him
Do you ever like the whole world is crushing you? As if all the wickedness and the melancholy and the violence just weighs you down, like an anchor? And you find it so, so very hard to face the day, and the people, and just life? Like you can never change, never emerge from your cocoon? I feel like this so very often and I don't know what to do anymore.
Yes I do. I think everybody does at one point or another. Some feel it more than others though.
I am not quite sure what to say to help you though. Do things that make you happy. Small things. And don’t let yourself be anchored down by big meanings and grand problems and existential questions. Keep it small. And go forward one day at a time, slowly. And you’ll grow and learn and expand.
If this feeling continues though, you might want to see a psychologist to a professional at least. They might be able to help you more than my meaningless words.
Imagine how much younger I would look if I actually took care of my skin and stuff (like washing it with proper soap and moisturizing it and wearing sunscreen and not tanning all the time as soon as I get in the sun).
Like, I could be one of those young cops that look young enough to go back to high school undercover and secretly protect the daughter or son of that very important foreign dignitary who is in protective custody because he has promised to testify against a drug warlord. Or something.