Come back for more. Do it again.
So it's been a while.
How're things?
For me, things are kind of shitty. I'm just hanging out in my room listening to () by Sigur Ros and wondering when I'm going to figure anything out. When I'm going to figure out exactly what my hook is, what my downfall is, and what my gray-matter is. I want to figure out how I work, how I fit into all of these other people's lives, because I barely fit into my own.
I've been thinking on a pretty cosmic level recently. Literally. The cosmos, the expanding universe, the space-time continuum, the existence of God and of Man and of Whatever Else is Out There. It's gotten me pretty down, for the most part. I think it's just the knowledge that I, on a large enough scale, amount to nothing. My writing comic books or teaching English will do nothing to stop the galaxy's drift into explosion. And maybe that's the sick joke of it all. Maybe we're tested to move faster and harder, to produce bigger and better, and then it's all cut out from underneath us when the radioactive energy from the sun can't heat the liquid-hot magma under the earth's crust. Or maybe that's just how my life works. Or maybe I'm being melodramatic.
So far, being back is not good. I'll just throw it out there. I miss my friends from this summer, my friends who loved me and called me and wanted me around. I hate the fact that we had such little time and way too much fun. I hate the fact that I feel the only way to have fun here is to drink, or to be in situations when I'm so anxious that I have to remove myself from them. I also hate being judged by people who have spent one year with me, and they think they know me. They think I'm some kind of charicature who can't really "make it" on my own. That I'm impulsive, and naive, and uncreative. I don't know why these people bother me. They just do.
Being an RA is equally frustrating. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that I am a narc. My job is to rat out people for doing the same things I used to do and, often, wish I were doing when I'm busting them. It's not that I want to get shitfaced every weekend. I just don't want to have to feel guilty for the few times I do it. Is that unreasonable? Am I going to get in trouble for writing this? Are the people reading this only doing it to catch me in my huge mistake, my constant error: my confessional?
I want to break down and cry, but I can't. I want to hug someone, but I can't. I want to kiss someone, but WOW I can't. Because there is so much in the way. I miss home. I miss my Mom, and my Dad, but mainly my Mom's fantastic way of putting things in perspective for me. For some reason it doesn't work over the phone. Maybe cuz I can't hug her afterwards. God, I'm such a fucking baby sometimes. I want, I want, I want. I need, I need. All these things overpower that one thing I should be saying: I MUST. I MUST do things for myself, and not to hide from other people in this shell of a person I am at Wheaton College.
Happy Labor Day.
--Me
How're things?
For me, things are kind of shitty. I'm just hanging out in my room listening to () by Sigur Ros and wondering when I'm going to figure anything out. When I'm going to figure out exactly what my hook is, what my downfall is, and what my gray-matter is. I want to figure out how I work, how I fit into all of these other people's lives, because I barely fit into my own.
I've been thinking on a pretty cosmic level recently. Literally. The cosmos, the expanding universe, the space-time continuum, the existence of God and of Man and of Whatever Else is Out There. It's gotten me pretty down, for the most part. I think it's just the knowledge that I, on a large enough scale, amount to nothing. My writing comic books or teaching English will do nothing to stop the galaxy's drift into explosion. And maybe that's the sick joke of it all. Maybe we're tested to move faster and harder, to produce bigger and better, and then it's all cut out from underneath us when the radioactive energy from the sun can't heat the liquid-hot magma under the earth's crust. Or maybe that's just how my life works. Or maybe I'm being melodramatic.
So far, being back is not good. I'll just throw it out there. I miss my friends from this summer, my friends who loved me and called me and wanted me around. I hate the fact that we had such little time and way too much fun. I hate the fact that I feel the only way to have fun here is to drink, or to be in situations when I'm so anxious that I have to remove myself from them. I also hate being judged by people who have spent one year with me, and they think they know me. They think I'm some kind of charicature who can't really "make it" on my own. That I'm impulsive, and naive, and uncreative. I don't know why these people bother me. They just do.
Being an RA is equally frustrating. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that I am a narc. My job is to rat out people for doing the same things I used to do and, often, wish I were doing when I'm busting them. It's not that I want to get shitfaced every weekend. I just don't want to have to feel guilty for the few times I do it. Is that unreasonable? Am I going to get in trouble for writing this? Are the people reading this only doing it to catch me in my huge mistake, my constant error: my confessional?
I want to break down and cry, but I can't. I want to hug someone, but I can't. I want to kiss someone, but WOW I can't. Because there is so much in the way. I miss home. I miss my Mom, and my Dad, but mainly my Mom's fantastic way of putting things in perspective for me. For some reason it doesn't work over the phone. Maybe cuz I can't hug her afterwards. God, I'm such a fucking baby sometimes. I want, I want, I want. I need, I need. All these things overpower that one thing I should be saying: I MUST. I MUST do things for myself, and not to hide from other people in this shell of a person I am at Wheaton College.
Happy Labor Day.
--Me
2 Comments:
Will. I believe we all feel this way sometimes. I know that I do. Here's the thing though..there are people around you who want to get to know you. There are people around you who are worth getting to know, who don't judge you, and who won't judge you for feeling the same way that they feel. Maybe you're looking for something that is right underneath your nose. And maybe, it will just take time. Someone very wise once told me, use your resources. So use them. :)
will- - - -
it's lis. nice 'blog' (as you insist on calling it). i don't know of anyone who doesn't like you/has said negative things about you...except for maybe everyone associate with Little Miss Sunshine, but you had that one coming. i sort of know what you mean about being put in this place with people you don't mix well with and having no choice but to coexist with them for four years. but you seem to have a lot of friends, judging from the short time i've known you...and if you don't, we should hang out more then, bitch.
so there's my comment for you. eat it up.
Post a Comment
<< Home