Status: this is ongoing....
Girl Named Song
Reflections (August 31, 2011)
It’s a new beginning; a new life. Again, I’m at the bottom, that’s no change from before. What’s changed is that I’m now responsible for my every action, even the ones I can’t control. I can’t control what’s going through my mind, what I think, what I see, and what I witness that makes me break down like I do. I can’t change the fact that, as much as I want to start fresh and to forgive and forget, I’m still me and I’m still bloodied and scarred. The littlest words and actions can bring me down, and the littlest highs can bring me back up. The ignorant girl inside of me wants to believe that when I’m on high nothing can bring me down, but it’s just the opposite. I’ve more recently found that I’m more down than I am up; the glass is half empty not half full.
Today I sat down with myself and just thought. Thought about who I am, who I want to be, and who others want me to be. These, no matter how similarly sounding they are, are three polar opposites. Everybody expects the over expressive hockey freak, but I see the quiet yet lyrical choir girl who stands in the shadows of others, just as willing to be there as she is to move to let others in. Who I want to be is somebody I don’t even know, just another stranger to pass on the streets, although “want”, I suppose, is too strong a word, referring to the childish desire to have something that is likely not even needed. I aspire to be somebody who is simply content, at the least, with the life she is leading and the people she surrounds herself with. This is not me, not at all, this is only who I one day dream of becoming. How I will get to be that person, I have no clue. At this very moment, the thought of someone to make me feel beautiful and loved seems so far out of reach.
If there is one thing that I can say out loud without a doubt, it’s that I don’t belong here, although I’m questioning whether or not I belong on any place in this world. I suppose the natural teenage mind questions so much more than a displeased father referring to the sour flavor of the words that come out of my mouth. Nobody appears to be content with me, let alone proud to be in my presence. Unwilling to call attention to myself, every day I stand in the background yet again, waiting and hoping that somebody will impel me to feel somewhat important to this senseless society.
I feel like I don’t have forever to wait to find somebody exemplary to my expectations of what people in this particular civilization can bring up. I don’t have much strength left in me to sort through the rejection and pain to look for the brightest star in the sky. For now, I’m taking things day by day, minute by minute, letting whatever happens happen, even if it means losing more than my hope.
Today I sat down with myself and just thought. Thought about who I am, who I want to be, and who others want me to be. These, no matter how similarly sounding they are, are three polar opposites. Everybody expects the over expressive hockey freak, but I see the quiet yet lyrical choir girl who stands in the shadows of others, just as willing to be there as she is to move to let others in. Who I want to be is somebody I don’t even know, just another stranger to pass on the streets, although “want”, I suppose, is too strong a word, referring to the childish desire to have something that is likely not even needed. I aspire to be somebody who is simply content, at the least, with the life she is leading and the people she surrounds herself with. This is not me, not at all, this is only who I one day dream of becoming. How I will get to be that person, I have no clue. At this very moment, the thought of someone to make me feel beautiful and loved seems so far out of reach.
If there is one thing that I can say out loud without a doubt, it’s that I don’t belong here, although I’m questioning whether or not I belong on any place in this world. I suppose the natural teenage mind questions so much more than a displeased father referring to the sour flavor of the words that come out of my mouth. Nobody appears to be content with me, let alone proud to be in my presence. Unwilling to call attention to myself, every day I stand in the background yet again, waiting and hoping that somebody will impel me to feel somewhat important to this senseless society.
I feel like I don’t have forever to wait to find somebody exemplary to my expectations of what people in this particular civilization can bring up. I don’t have much strength left in me to sort through the rejection and pain to look for the brightest star in the sky. For now, I’m taking things day by day, minute by minute, letting whatever happens happen, even if it means losing more than my hope.