i wish i could make my brain shut off and stop playing chess in my head. if i make this move, this could happen, which I would then counter with this action... 3 or 4 steps ahead in what-ifs and maybe-nevers. I see the options laid out like little tightropes before me, criss-crossed in places and disappearing in spaces. Unknowns and wrenches spinning through infinity, life's debris waiting to knock me off whichever course I choose.
Life is what happens to you while your busy making other plans. John Lennon, smart man, shot in the head, very sad.
I need to put away the pen and paper, graphs and lists and diagrams of Venn. Just be me, but I never quite learned to go with the flow... how to give up and ride the current wherever it may take me. i always wanted some semblance of control in an uncontrollable environment, a computer light flashing that I have an option to push this button or pull that lever and set myself on path again. I like to pretend I'm in the driver's seat, although I never learned to drive and this 1957 Chevy with red leather interior is speeding downhill with no brakes.
Might be moving to swiftly on this one, jumped the gun 3 years out of desperation and depression. The realization that everything and anything I want or need to be just won't happen to me if I stay stagnant in this murky blue of run-together days.
Nothing I want to do is ever taken lightly; and while my decisions may seem nonsensical or rushed to some, every one is carefully mapped and planned with a choose-your-own adventure range of scenarios. I dream in technicolor, 3D road maps of where I am and where I want to be. Google maps in my unconsciousness, from here to there by public transportation, change the arrival or departure time to figure out just which route to take to avoid downtown city traffic or high school kids running naked from their schools. Get off my lawn you damn kids, I'm trying to get somewhere and be someone... sit down, you're rocking the bus. Public transportation depends too heavily on everybody else's schedule and plans...
So maybe I want the private option? slightly better, same cost. start over fresh in new state and new state of mind. but I don't think I'll ever escape the me I've become; and as much as I may wish to be someone else on all these just-another-gray days, I'm Eeyore for a reason. the experiences and skills I've learned wouldn't stick with me if I were another drone, a clone of some bubblehead in a magazine or flat glossy image from my tv screen.
I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm just confused and can't suss it all out, can't determine what is best because best right now might be worst in 3 years. too many variables and my brain, though super, is hardly a supercomputer for mapping out that many strategies.
I may be able to kick your ass at RISK, but I'm kind of afraid to take that risk myself. especially when it all could blow up in my face and leave me homeless, lying face down in a gutter, drowning in my own student debt that no amount of bankruptcy will erase ... until I'm forced to fake my own death and live off the grid as a former French stripper named GiGi LeFriebusch. Dealing out diner advice in a sweet southern accent at greasy spoons nationwide, packing up and leaving before I get too settled and Uncle Sam comes knocking for his kickback, a bank named Slickback in a purple pinstripe zoot suit riot.
... I have way too many obscure pop culture references in my ramblings...
and I think this all would be easier if it were socially acceptable or economically feasible to be a renaissance woman in this day and age. but the people want specialization, bounce from idea to idea too many times and they begin to think you don't have focus or stamina. But in reality, I'm just pulled in a thousand directions at once because I want to do and experience everything in my brief time here, three quarters of a century and one of those split spent in diapers and drool (part crib, part raisin ranch).
Maybe it is time to put away childish things. Pick me to be and let the other ideas die. Not pursue those little whispers that this might be fun or that could entertain.
But somehow I don't think I'll be happy just being one thing. Swallow my soul in self denial, slowly fade away and become the dimensionless character we watch every night with popcorn and soda and 3D glasses to make them somehow seem real.
I am complexity. I am insanity. I am abnormality, abstrusity, absurdity, acerbity, adaptability, ambiguity ... and that is just the a's.
I am too many things to define.
I am me.
... and right now, I am confused. *sigh*
My Fight with Food
15 years ago
Damn, and I thought I was the only one who thought and felt this way. I understand the feelings of being out of place of being a renaissance type in an age that values only strict specialization. And the worst parts of all of this, as you and I both know, are that we know we don't fit in, feel miserable when we do try to fit in because it goes against our natural mindset, and we feel miserable because we hate that we can't abandon our feelings of not liking that we can't get with the program.
ReplyDeleteIn short for as much as humanity loves to dribble on about how much 'diversity of looks and talent' are valued, the vast majority just cannot value 'diversity of thoughts and personality.' It's the classic Catch-22 and Greek tragedy. When we are being damned by others, we are damning ourselves.