Crazy, I have so much work to do right now. Just back, like fresh back, from Scotland. Yet, I will carve time out of nowhere and everything to write a “wee” bit about where I am at this moment.
At this moment, I am frustrated.
With civilization and it’s discontents (Freud).
With my living arrangements…it’s definitely time to stop this communal living mess. I want a permanent space that’s always there…a house, I guess?
With my university and the bullshit of the day. SO glad I can have an existential moment and be away from it all.
With my fellow Americans because being stuck on a bus with them for a whole weekend made me realize just how f***ing ANNOYing “we” are. I mean really, calm the shit down.
With my family. With my parents. With a parent. I can’t even put it into words what I feel. It’s beyond anger. Beyond tears.
For a time in my life, I would like to experience a coexistence with someone who considered how I feel for longer than a millisecond. My shoulders are heavy with the past. I realized over these two weeks, from sharing bits and pieces with other people, that some wounds will never heal. When I recount some instances of not too long ago, choices of others and my own that all bring me to this moment, I bite back the tears, realizing in clarity that time won’t fix everything, only love.
With myself because my brain functions at a disgusting frequency.
On to greener pastures, Scotland was beautiful. Pictures to come. The highlands were miracle after mountainous miracle and our tour guide was a joy (?) despite his consistent jokes about sexual relations with all the sheep that we saw. Gross, I know.
The second day leads me to the point of me wasting precious beauty sleeptime. I, with two other females with whom I was barely associates, decided to go to this Indian spot during our stay in Inverness when something splendid happened. We decide to share.
If you’re lucky, every now and then you have a conversation with a stranger and you actually listen. And you hear your own story in theirs. In turn, I was able to articulate some aspects about my life, or past that formed where I am today, rather, quite effectively. Effective enough to allow me to feel like I understand who I am, at least today.
Due to a series of events that I was quite angered by, I learned quickly that nothing last forever. Security is a myth. And that I had better get used to surviving. Surviving emotionally, physically, spiritually, financially, whatever. Because, life is a struggle.
I like to think of myself as a resistor, but maybe I am just a quiet acquiescer because I adapted to the forces in motion. In fact, I adapted too well so that such habits are now part of my personality. For example, I have made due with the fact that I am alone so much so that I find myself more independent than necessary. I do not and cannot rely on people for almost anything. Maybe I don’t trust people. Maybe I don’t like waiting to be disappointed. Or maybe, I’m just a selfish person. I’d like to think that neither of the three are the case, but I must be mistaken.
Moreover, I have no sympathy for people who think that they should always get what they want. I get what I want, but the key words are “I” and “get”. Besides, I am a firm believer in taking care of myself in every way necessary because if I don’t, no one else will.
Also, recently especially, I’ve learned that life constantly is changing. So much so that when I feel happy, I mean really happy and safe and just… (sigh), I sort of climb out of that emotion and freeze it for a good poem or two but lock up just in time to go back to work in the morning. Just in time to sink back into that logical, rational, horrendous routine that I do so well.
Arggh, so much more to share.
But, I’ll leave this post with a bit of scribbles from my painful train ride back to London:
“…Every sunrise a blessing,every sunset the most beautiful of summaries. Everyday, [s]He works miracles.” -adr