This seems to happen once a year, maybe twice... I stay up all night for no other reason than to uncover a life lesson. One late night epiphany, that would not have otherwise been realized. It's after 3 a.m. and here I am consoling with my laptop:
So I've become a self-helper. yes, I said it. self-help books. I've made fun of them once upon a time...until I needed some(thing)one to hold my cold hand. Aaaand, since a good, interesting man is apparently so hard to come by, I started dating around in the self-help section of the bookstore. How to be happy. hmmmmmmmmmm. Is this even real? Every once in awhile it's a cheesy, head bobbing, "Yeah!" in a dorky, overly enthusiastic tone. Where I get stoked to change my life. I'll get a 10 minute window of being high on self help. That shit wears off faster than cheap coke and you're back to square one of trying to get stoked via the motivational bible. For that short time, you have all the advice your friends will ever need, and they don't like to be in the same room with you, they don't care about how to live.
YEAH! ALL RIGHT!
Summer. is my fucking shit. summer is what I do. it's what i work towards all year. I am a playwrite, and this is my debut, year after year. I have a standard, that each summer needs to be better than the last.
I have to admit I'm a little well, um, hesitant about how I want this summer to go. What do I love right now? I love feeling excited, purposeful, healthy, in love. That's the thing though...I don't feel those things yet. I am sucking these self help books dry looking for something to get me truly excited about this summer 2011. I just can't pinpoint it. Last year was wild, naked, drunk... but that's not what I want this year. And that scares me.
What truly feels good right now? Sleep. Rest, reflection, good food, good beer (singular), reading, writing, drawing, biking, independence. But, but, but... the whiskey though..?! I've put this unreal pressure on myself that makes me responsible for everyone's fun. If I don't pioneer this summer's activities, our party will die off to disease and famine, oxen and all (<---- oregon trail© joke)
bbbrroaaow?
I'm serious, interweb, why do I feel the need to plan for fun, before I go out and do it? I'm waiting to feel EXSTATIC enough to write in all caps. If I'm not excited, and not happy, then what am I? Reflecting, deliberate, considerate, scholarly, trabajadura? Okay, those aren't bad things... so why am I so damn concerned about being the wagon leader of fun?
Because what I like to do is not what everyone else likes to do, and I feel lonely having all of this fun by myself. Maybe I should get a pet :
Yep, a pet it is.
A pet to be my partner in crime. To cuddle with and do modestly fun, enriching activities. We can go on a walk after dinner, and cuddle when we get home before we go to sleep.
(also possible: Substitute the word PET with BOYFRIEND)
VOI - FUCKIN- LA
These university people aren't my people. It looks stupid when a university student has full sleeves of tattoos. I look at them and think: Easy life, too much money.
Where are the people who've worked for what they have?
Where are the people who think learning another language is standard, not intangible
why are boobs my biggest qualification, and who gives a fuck that I can't "make it" to dollar beers every fucking wednesday. God I hope I never go to dollar beers. I'd rather join a math club and stop plucking my eyebrows.
Sweet, I'll be 21 with a degree, but I've never stood on a moving motorcycle
I've found myself so quiet around people recently. I feel bored, disconnected, and unmotivated to participate with my friends. I'm not complaining, just starting to wonder if it's time to meet some interesting people.
you know, lesson of the day - ain't no thang
I have everything I need
xo
