Wednesday, December 15, 2010

morning affairs, from bed

 At twenty-six, I'm finding out, people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.

 the former years

"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." -Milan Kundera

At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the everlong cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.

At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others

At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires

At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.

At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.

My existence these days can only be summed up as surreal. Loss of sanity, happiness as momentary leaps dotting the horizon.

I am from planet earth, of this I'm sure. Of only this I'm sure.

A Writer's Life

Me: "What's wrong?"

Her: "What do you mean. A lot of things are wrong."

Me: "God. Most people would say. 'What do you mean. Nothing's wrong.'"

Her: "Well I'm crazy."

where you are

“Most girls’ plan is to meet a guy, love, have a baby, but I don’t know if I have what it takes for everybody’s regular plan” - How Do You Know

At times I can be jealous, insecure, territorial, selfish. Even when I don't want more, even when I know I will be fine without this, even when I know I will be fine when this won't be the story anymore.

Have confidence, they always say. I love a man with confidence, and I can tell within the first few minutes of meeting him if he's insecure with who he is. Those guys generally don't stand a chance. I'm riddled with insecurities, and as a result, I don't generally fight for what I want when it comes to matters of the heart. If I think he's into someone else, then that's that. I don't know. Maybe I should start fighting though.

This year was riddled with mistakes, mistakes I had to make.

The spring tested a childhood crush. This guy, when I was younger, I adored. I used to mention him in my journal, subtleties, how nice he was, never really saying how I felt because he'd talk to me about some phone conversation he had with some girl he was crazy about. And then he'd write about it on his online journal, which everyone was privy to. We were young, but he was open and honest, and he was seemingly crazy about her. And I forgot all of that. So as an adult, when he said he wasn't the relationship type, even though I knew better, I forgot that he really was capable of adoration when he found the right girl.

The summer found a certain recklessness that should only be had with youth. At this age, I should know better. But I never really went through that stage when I should've, so I had a delayed growth period. Funny how, mistakes are sometimes known as growth periods.

And with autumn, I had to learn how to deal with the mistakes I was making. Mistakes that shouldn't be made at this age, but there they were.

I thought at this age, I'd figure it out. I'd figure out what I wanted in a real love, and I'd commit to a man, and I'd commit to a career, and I'd know what I was going to do with my life. I never would've thought at twenty-six, I couldn't afford to buy my parents a television, I'd still be hurting friends, coin tosses away from breaking hearts. I'm beginning to think, this is life, and I will always make mistakes, sometimes they'll be big, sometimes not so much, but I don't think I'll ever stop fucking up or stop muddling about.

Someone told me, you either pick a job or you pick a city, and I've been choosing the latter. All my life I've worked for the former, running away from this city for weeks and and months at a time. A part of me doesn't want to run away anymore, but I can't seem to make things right, here.

All I wish for in 2011 is some answers, some growing up (a job, a pay check, a 401k?, health insurance!). There were too many mistakes this year, with them lessons, but things just don't feel okay.

On the bright side: at least I'm not getting deported.