(no subject)
At 6:05 in the morning, after a full night of equal parts hard work and dedicated procrastination, thoughts of the sort that are usually ignored have a habit of entering my mind, persistant in their want to be acknowledged, their need to be discussed.
So at 6:07 in the morning, when I should most certainly be focused on the work at hand and the large amount I've yet to do, I instead take a moment to shroud myself in this e-blanket of pointless prose, the words slipping like cool salve from my fingers. Theraputic vowels, commas, consonents. Tired. Torn.
In all my 19 years, I have never felt more afraid-- or more alive-- than I do now. I can't tell if that's a good thing. I can barely even tell how I feel about it at all.
I don't mean that I fear the things around me or any specific event. I mean that I fear the decisions I must face, the pain that will inevitably ensue, and the possibility of taking the wrong path along the way. How can I know? How can anyone know?
I've noticed a calm confidence hidden within me in the past few days (or is it weeks?) of which I wasn't previously aware; if nothing else, this is at least one positive byproduct of the whole ordeal. I didn't realize that I could face situations with such a collected air, despite all that is twisting and turning within me. I didn't know I could say the words I feel, no matter how much they may frighten me. I didn't know I could continue on and not be broken, but I can. It's really quite empowering.
Of course, that's not to say that I don't have my moments where all seems lost or I panic as the darkness of the future seems to close in around me. I had one earlier tonight, so filled with anxiety that I could not swallow for fear of throwing up; and even still, this knot in my stomach remains, a constant reminder of my pressures and worries.
Unlike other times of difficulty, however, I somehow seem to understand this feeling. Sure, it's there. Sure, it will be. But will it kill me? No. Will it defeat me? No, certainly not. Will it break me? No. I am learning. I am pushing. I am continuing. And most of all-- through it all-- I am breathing. Breathing. As long as I am doing that, I am okay.
My hands are sweaty, perhaps a result of the late hour or my lack of sleep... or maybe it's yet another side effect of my nervousness, of my wonder and worry. I realize how cryptic I'm being and I do apologize; for whatever reason, I refuse to go into full details on such a public domain. If you're truly interested in the details, you're free to ask me, though there are no guarantees on whether I'll actually be in the mood to explain it all. It's a hard time for me...a hard time for many of us, I suspect.
Nose to the grinding stone, back to the mill of work and trudgery. I return-- yet again-- to an article, a monologue, etc., etc. Life saunters on, no matter how I attempt to slow it down. I guess I'm slowly learning to understand that.
Day in, day out, up, down, and all around, emotions rise and fall, cry and laugh and shout and scream. This is life. This is what I'm doing, what I'm living. I don't get it now, and I doubt I will anytime soon, but eventually, I'll grab ahold of what it all means. What it all is. Who we all are. What we all-- any of us, some of us, all of us, every one of us-- want from it, this, or anything else. It'll come.
It's not the meaning of life that I'm searching for; I honestly don't think that the answer to that ever really comes, at least in this world. I search not for the ultimate answer or clue, but for the answer to each situation, and each hardship in life as it is presented to me. Those lessons, ideas, thoughts, enlightenments, are something that come through time and reflection, eventually surfacing over the memory of past predicaments like bright beacons of crystal-clear light. Beautiful. Joyous.
And I'll get there eventually. I know that. I really, truly, completely, entirely do. No matter how muddled I get now or how impossible these times seem, I know that someday, I will look back and understand why anything, everything had to happen as it did. Life fits into itself like pieces of a puzzle; incoherent, incomplete pictures when scattered about on their own, but logical and comprehensible, even satisfying, when all joined together. Without one piece, there is no other. Without the past, there is no future. Without what is now, nothing else could ever be. It all connects, inevitably, in the end. I'll never stop believing that.
Sweaty palms, darting eyes, distracted mind; all must be put aside in favor of more educational, productive things. As I said, life doesn't wait for me to catch up. It continues its crazy whirlwind as usual, dragging me up inside of its dangerous, delightful, terrifying, beautiful ways. If I close my eyes, I can at least take a minute to inhale, calm my nerves, and if not be okay with everything around me, then accept it as it is. For really... what else can you do?
Breathe. I can breathe. I am-- I will be-- I will forever be--
breathing.
Always breathing.
...and continuing on.
So at 6:07 in the morning, when I should most certainly be focused on the work at hand and the large amount I've yet to do, I instead take a moment to shroud myself in this e-blanket of pointless prose, the words slipping like cool salve from my fingers. Theraputic vowels, commas, consonents. Tired. Torn.
In all my 19 years, I have never felt more afraid-- or more alive-- than I do now. I can't tell if that's a good thing. I can barely even tell how I feel about it at all.
I don't mean that I fear the things around me or any specific event. I mean that I fear the decisions I must face, the pain that will inevitably ensue, and the possibility of taking the wrong path along the way. How can I know? How can anyone know?
I've noticed a calm confidence hidden within me in the past few days (or is it weeks?) of which I wasn't previously aware; if nothing else, this is at least one positive byproduct of the whole ordeal. I didn't realize that I could face situations with such a collected air, despite all that is twisting and turning within me. I didn't know I could say the words I feel, no matter how much they may frighten me. I didn't know I could continue on and not be broken, but I can. It's really quite empowering.
Of course, that's not to say that I don't have my moments where all seems lost or I panic as the darkness of the future seems to close in around me. I had one earlier tonight, so filled with anxiety that I could not swallow for fear of throwing up; and even still, this knot in my stomach remains, a constant reminder of my pressures and worries.
Unlike other times of difficulty, however, I somehow seem to understand this feeling. Sure, it's there. Sure, it will be. But will it kill me? No. Will it defeat me? No, certainly not. Will it break me? No. I am learning. I am pushing. I am continuing. And most of all-- through it all-- I am breathing. Breathing. As long as I am doing that, I am okay.
My hands are sweaty, perhaps a result of the late hour or my lack of sleep... or maybe it's yet another side effect of my nervousness, of my wonder and worry. I realize how cryptic I'm being and I do apologize; for whatever reason, I refuse to go into full details on such a public domain. If you're truly interested in the details, you're free to ask me, though there are no guarantees on whether I'll actually be in the mood to explain it all. It's a hard time for me...a hard time for many of us, I suspect.
Nose to the grinding stone, back to the mill of work and trudgery. I return-- yet again-- to an article, a monologue, etc., etc. Life saunters on, no matter how I attempt to slow it down. I guess I'm slowly learning to understand that.
Day in, day out, up, down, and all around, emotions rise and fall, cry and laugh and shout and scream. This is life. This is what I'm doing, what I'm living. I don't get it now, and I doubt I will anytime soon, but eventually, I'll grab ahold of what it all means. What it all is. Who we all are. What we all-- any of us, some of us, all of us, every one of us-- want from it, this, or anything else. It'll come.
It's not the meaning of life that I'm searching for; I honestly don't think that the answer to that ever really comes, at least in this world. I search not for the ultimate answer or clue, but for the answer to each situation, and each hardship in life as it is presented to me. Those lessons, ideas, thoughts, enlightenments, are something that come through time and reflection, eventually surfacing over the memory of past predicaments like bright beacons of crystal-clear light. Beautiful. Joyous.
And I'll get there eventually. I know that. I really, truly, completely, entirely do. No matter how muddled I get now or how impossible these times seem, I know that someday, I will look back and understand why anything, everything had to happen as it did. Life fits into itself like pieces of a puzzle; incoherent, incomplete pictures when scattered about on their own, but logical and comprehensible, even satisfying, when all joined together. Without one piece, there is no other. Without the past, there is no future. Without what is now, nothing else could ever be. It all connects, inevitably, in the end. I'll never stop believing that.
Sweaty palms, darting eyes, distracted mind; all must be put aside in favor of more educational, productive things. As I said, life doesn't wait for me to catch up. It continues its crazy whirlwind as usual, dragging me up inside of its dangerous, delightful, terrifying, beautiful ways. If I close my eyes, I can at least take a minute to inhale, calm my nerves, and if not be okay with everything around me, then accept it as it is. For really... what else can you do?
Breathe. I can breathe. I am-- I will be-- I will forever be--
breathing.
Always breathing.
...and continuing on.