Please enjoy this video!
Please enjoy this video!
I’m hot. I can’t sleep. I took a nap which resulted in a case of insomnia. I got my bathing suit from Amazon sometime today while I was at my internship and when I got home I opened it and my excitement left when I realized that my breasts are way too big to fit into this bikini. See, I’m trying to be more beautiful, this summer, and so far my plans have been falling through. What does it mean to be more beautiful? I’m not sure what that means, myself. Is it in a bathing suit? Probably not but that didn’t stop me from crying. I got my ear pierced two weeks ago and my ear is still so sore. Every time I brush my ear with head phones, or when I forget, I want to cry like a baby… I also got another tattoo on my ribs, yesterday. I couldn’t tell you why… but I hate it. I hate it and I want to be more beautiful. I want to be more beautiful than I’ve ever been before.
I’m listening to Corinne Bailey Rae. I love how effortless her voice is—simple it is. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. I want to feel like what “Another Rainy Day” makes me feel. I almost cried taking my senior portraits yesterday, and I don’t know why. I can’t tell if it was because I feel helpless, or if it was from excitement of graduating. It rained yesterday. I love the rain. It also snowed. I happen to enjoy the snow, as well. But yesterday was strange. Yesterday was a very strange day.
I want to cry, now. I have no idea why, though. I’m not sleepy. Sometimes I cry when I’m tired. It’s something that got worse with age. I love sleep. I also hate sleep. While I sleep time goes by really quickly. I have no idea why I’m crying and I want to know why I cry at 11:48 pm EST. I came home at four and slept until seven. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I know that something is wrong and I am mad that something always has to be wrong. I’m angry that I’m crying when I should be asleep. I’m angry that people are upset that I’m upset. I’m angry when people think something is wrong with me. I’m angry that I have these times where people can see me sobbing driving down 202, when I’m crying out to God begging him to take this away from me.
I don’t like that I’m entertaining people because I feel bad. I don’t like the feeling of being used or being lied to about intentions. It makes me feel like I’m being followed closely or cornered. And I hate the feeling of both.
I am missing someone I’m afraid of and that doesn’t make any sense, but it makes all of the sense in the world. I don’t like always having to be the positive one when I have my own fears—worries. When I deviate from my role of the happy, positive, self-medicated one I end up staying up past my bedtime… when the monsters come out to play with my mind.
Monsters wrapped in packages from Amazon telling me how beautiful I won’t be this summer. It makes no sense, but it makes all of the sense in the world. I’m not always this way; confused and sad. Just in the night and on paper, I don’t have to explain myself.
Recently, I’ve been wanting to run away. I’ve been wanting to find a place, a solace, where I can just be. There is nothing profound about it, nothing poetic. It’s not that deep to me at all. I love being me, or shall I say the real me. I love the me that I feel beating throughout my veins, fighting against the me that everyone else expects me to be. I am not this rigid, stay-in-the-lines, focus on the focal point kind of person. I scribble along walls, and walk backwards when I get tired of doing the conventional thing. I am hardly conventional.
Am I wrong because I have no desire to create words with my hands, but, rather worlds? I intend to create this solace, for myself… I capture the things I feel through a lens, am inspired to create a solace on pen and paper, and share this world with those who are running and in pursuit of adventure. I create my solace through my voice and melodies I feel and see swirling around me– bright and vibrant, beating and colorful…
But I am here. I am trapped in this icy, careless city filled with those who push me onto the gravel, forcing pebbles into my skin. I offer my back as support for those who cannot carry themselves, but am shocked when I am struck down because my back was not comfortable enough for them… For THEM.
No, onlooker. I will not stay here. I will take NO MORE of this constant competition for affection. I will not allow my soul’s fire to be put out by these cramped spaces… LET ME FREE! I scream to myself.
So, until that freedom comes, onlooker I will set bits of my soul free. Capture moments, create worlds, and atmospheres that take me far away from here. Is it terrible that a hole in my body allows bits of my soul to escape? A push into an alternate reality, gives way to the laws of the universe, and I am on a high… Just don’t grab me, please. I will not shoot into the stratosphere, though pressures are changing.
I just want to be me…the real me.
Yeah. I’ll admit it. I am that girl who will hold her bladder if someone she knows walks into the bathroom before her to avoid awkward conversation and small talk. Well, yeah. I gave her my number not solely because I liked the rush of living on the edge.
I am she. She will wash her hands three times because they can never be too clean. Wanting someone to snatch me from the bathroom as I walk in alone.
What friends fail to realize: In real life (my life) these things refuse to happen. Yep. I wonder what it would be like to crush strawberries and grapes beneath my body.
I am that girl who sits and daydreams about how life would be a waste if I had not gone on to a college/university. Though I do imagine my life post hades. And sure I’ll spend countless hours planning my life; creating a schedule for everything, but I love living in spontaneity.
I mean, I’m just saying the scent of a man can be so suffocating that it’s nauseating. And okay, I may do these things in hopes that I can tap into some alternate life that I’m missing out on. Some life filled with spontaneity that needs to be captured through a lens.
I mean, I am the person who people say hello for the sake of saying hello and for the sake of having common grounds with others.
Me. The Catalyst.
I often times wonder who said it was okay to take the cream of a peanut and the jellied substance of a grape and slab them between two slices of bread, and call that a “Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich”… Who came up with the name “sandwich”, anyway? I marinate on that as I chew my Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich. Every time I hear the word, I think of sand in between bread and I automatically go back to the scene in “The Little Rascals”, when the boys ate sand between bread. I don’t really know why. I guess it just seems right to me.
“His ignorance offends me!”
Offend. That’s an interesting word. Offend, I repeat to myself. Hmmm…I wonder. Off. End. Maybe offend came from the combination of those two words. To “off end” someone. To set someone on the opposite end of you, so that instead of standing side-by-side, they are now facing you in opposition. Hm.
My fellow lunch mates burst into laughter from something Marcus said, no doubt, or Marquita putting someone in their place. Maybe it was Matt saying something totally out of line, taking things too far. Could it be Jordan speaking out of his continuous clueless state? Or is it Tashia’s response to that clueless statement?
I’m the weird one in our group. That’s my role. I don’t mind. It’s who I am; who I’ve always been. I was THAT child; the one who had to sit in front of the classroom with the teacher, to be “monitored”. I was always the tallest person in all of my grade school classes. I was the child that everyone played jokes on, laughing and snickering at my ever-open heart; always ready and willing to have a friend. ANY friend.
I’ve always wanted to be tiny. I wanted to be a miniature, pocket-sized piece of love that people can put in their back pockets. My height seems to be offending those around me. “I would date you, but you’re too tall”, “Why are you so manly?”. “How’s the weather, up there?” was never a funny joke. I’d love to be small, to be able to fit into everyone’s hearts.
But, I’ll stay here, pondering over my peanut and butter jelly sandwiches filled with sand and laugh with my friends’ laughter.