I know.
Sometimes it's completely wonderful to spend a weekend away from yourself. Away from all the little opinion pieces floating around in your head, narrating your life as if you were some sort of child and needed to be directed at every turn. Eat this, don't touch that, be careful! Things aren't so much different when you're on your own and trying to make it.
So sometimes, even though it's not really advisable, there's a period of time when I don't really care about the tiny so-not-gonna-happen crushes, the crusades towards victory over psychology homework and scholarship work. I let it all go.
Now, don't believe I go all crazy and start jumping into fires or something stupid like that. I'm a "party girl" without the booze or the cheap thrills. I like staying up late at night and talking to my roommate about things that will never happen to me. Sharing stories that aren't really mine - they just bounce around in my head and I put them to paper (kind of like I am now). Somewhere, in the world of fiction, a girl who is the complete opposite of me can run free and take over me. Mind, body and soul.
Dia hasn't come back for a while, she hasn't littered my texts with her boy-crazy, overly-hot insanity, but she is always lurking there. At the edge of my mind where people wouldn't expect a girl like me to reside. The brink where people often jump off. The clouded forest. The silent grey trees.
Here is where I stand today: a more serious vacation than I'd planned, taking time from the world of letters making up my worth and people telling me that I'm not really there. I have to learn to be original, and sometimes... that just won't work out. And so here, where I'm forced to be whoever I need to be, I have chosen.
I like myself enough to keep things rolling. And, so it seems, other people do too.
P.S. I'm revising my thoughts on fiction classes; if they're done right, they're fantastic.
Sometimes it's completely wonderful to spend a weekend away from yourself. Away from all the little opinion pieces floating around in your head, narrating your life as if you were some sort of child and needed to be directed at every turn. Eat this, don't touch that, be careful! Things aren't so much different when you're on your own and trying to make it.
So sometimes, even though it's not really advisable, there's a period of time when I don't really care about the tiny so-not-gonna-happen crushes, the crusades towards victory over psychology homework and scholarship work. I let it all go.
Now, don't believe I go all crazy and start jumping into fires or something stupid like that. I'm a "party girl" without the booze or the cheap thrills. I like staying up late at night and talking to my roommate about things that will never happen to me. Sharing stories that aren't really mine - they just bounce around in my head and I put them to paper (kind of like I am now). Somewhere, in the world of fiction, a girl who is the complete opposite of me can run free and take over me. Mind, body and soul.
Dia hasn't come back for a while, she hasn't littered my texts with her boy-crazy, overly-hot insanity, but she is always lurking there. At the edge of my mind where people wouldn't expect a girl like me to reside. The brink where people often jump off. The clouded forest. The silent grey trees.
Here is where I stand today: a more serious vacation than I'd planned, taking time from the world of letters making up my worth and people telling me that I'm not really there. I have to learn to be original, and sometimes... that just won't work out. And so here, where I'm forced to be whoever I need to be, I have chosen.
I like myself enough to keep things rolling. And, so it seems, other people do too.
P.S. I'm revising my thoughts on fiction classes; if they're done right, they're fantastic.
