I’ve got these kind of weird butterflies in my stomach, I don’t know why, I’m actually not sure about anything right now. I’m sitting here at the computer desk at ten to midnight all alone, no sister behind me watching TV and I can’t help but feel like I know nothing. I’m now stuck in one of those moments when you feel so infinitesimally small – like an ant does or whatever. And I’ve got butterflies. I’m going to stress that, mainly because I have no idea what it means or why I have it.
I just finished a book, not saying I haven’t read it before, because the truth is – it’s one of those corny Meg Cabbot books that you reread when you’re feeling like you need a good sappy romance or teenage cliche. And it was all of that, and it was great. I finished the book – after leering several times over parts I was appalled with (reiterating, I’ve read this before) – and stood affront the room mirror grinning like a middle school fool. Now, I’m a junior in High School, but there’s nothing I want more than to not be living the way I currently live.
Okay, I suppose it’s not that bad. Everything that’s wrong with my life can easily be traced and reasoned to being completely and utterly my fault. No, I’m willing to admit it. I do nothing to hinder the ever increasing amounts of horror that seems to want to invade my life. In fact, I have screamed, fretted, worried, and probably pulled out hair trying to confront it. But I’m too weak. I’ve asked for help – from God (and you can laugh if you want, but he usually works.) – but it’s not enough. I’m getting something, just not enough. With me, nothing is ever enough.
I’m not going to start about how my life is so terrible. Merlin, no, if I do – I give anyone reading this permission to shank me. Seriously. I’m not on a rail. I’m looking for a remedy, and writing has helped in the past. The thing is, I’m in writers block. I’m not sure if that’s ironic (and if I get it wrong, I know I’ll regret it.)
So, what this thing comes down to is that I’m kind of desperate for some help. I just don’t have anyone else but God to ask it of. I’m kind of falling down this deep pit of failure… and it’s bad. I mean, I’m not…
I need the pressure to kind of ebb off, and for life to sort of keep me in the loop instead of pushing me out of the way. It’s all going by too slow, but I’m still getting stuck and falling behind and I have no idea how.
And yet, I’m still smiling. Because I just read a great book. And I’m about to start ANOTHER one. FTW RaRa. Yes. I’m kind of happy. Topsy Turvy feelings. It’s when I go to school (at 7.25AM nonetheless) that the whole sinking thing really hits me. Or maybe afterwards, when I struggle with what to do. Art, homework, TV, sister, masjid. WHAT?! I’m being torn apart, yo. Too many different directions. I kind of just wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life so that I could focus on what would get me there, and not have so many different things trying to pick me apart.
Well, guess what. I’m going to NOT let this happen next quarter. I’m going to get A’s. B’s at the lowest, and if I slip, I’m probably going to end up mentally hurting myself. But that wouldn’t be my fault, that would be COLUMBIA’s fault. SO. Yeah.
Anyway. I think I should probably stop my manic ramblings and head in for the night. (AKA go read Beastly by Alex Flinn.)
I love the ideas I entertain of life and how I’ll one day live it, and I guess I love you too, huh?
-Rae
