01 June 2014 journal entry

I can’t decide whether it’s more difficult to keep my eyes closed, or open.

Because sometimes my thoughts run together like the clouds and the sky run together in paintings that look like cotton candy.

You never really know who you are, I think. Because if what I’ve figured out is remotely true, then this life is a series of moments. And it’s impossible to take one thing without the other.

Let me put it this way:

            One day I woke up and it was summertime. And my cousins were here, and the hammock was still white and the trees were still tall enough to block out the orange part of the sun that makes me feel so different. And though I don’t even like snowballs that much, we went to a snowball stand and I ordered a skittles snowball. And for the thousandth time, my cousin Juliet ordered an egg custard snowball with marshmallow in the middle. And I wondered if I should find a routine like she had. I felt like what I wanted was to be recognized by a routine.

It’s the reason I only order chocolate ice cream, or rotate the same restaurants that each feature one dish I have tried and approved. It’s the same reason I don’t feel completely right when I don’t wear L’Imperatrice by Dolce and Gabbana and it’s the same reason I sometimes try to take off my glasses when I’m not even wearing them.

I can’t decide if what I like is to stay somewhere where I am comfortable or if what I like is changing things so frequently I can’t find the time to pick up a routine.

Yesterday I got really high (and drunk, but that’s beside the point) and I had this brilliant idea. I was singing “It Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala with my friend Becca, and we were accompanied by Christie, a regular whiz on the guitar. And I really was just sucked in, you know? absorbed by the music. And there was just some strange connection that I felt. I felt like the most important thing I could do was match my voice with Becca’s. And I was doing a pretty good job, I think. And when the song was over, all I wanted to do was sing another one.

And then all of a sudden I remembered how every time I have gone to the Hiob’s with my dad, he and Uncle Mike sing and harmonize and I can see them as they let the music embrace them. And at that moment there was nothing I wanted to do more than sit in a basement with my dad and sing a song, letting nothing affect me except the desire to match my voice to his. And I imagined it, and I was ready to make it a reality.

But then reality hit me hard, instead. And it’s not even like I was sad, you know? I wasn’t. Because life is pretty….okay right now. like nothing is fantastic but I feel like I have myself together and that’s pretty great.

Who am I?

I don’t know.

At this time last year, I thought the most important thing about college was going to be introducing myself to other people. I had spent an entire senior year of high school realizing that the most important years of my life were not even close to me yet. I met people who I thought mattered, and I realized that no matter what not everyone was going to think I mattered when I wanted them to. But I chalked this up to the fact that I “hated highschool” that “all the people I grew up knowing were just terrible”. I was ready to go to college and have the experience of my life, meeting people with guitars and poems tucked behind their ears, and people who were going to travel the world with me. People who were going to take my hand and lead me where I didn’t even know I wanted to go.

            And I got some of that. I moved into my dorm, and I met people who made me open my eyes. And I stayed true to myself, as much as I could. But throughout the year I learned one really really important lesson that I don’t think I could have learned at a better time: In order to really be an individual it’s only what is behind the smoke and mirrors that is important.

            I’ve never been in love, not yet.

I’ve realized that life is not a music video, and if I want something, no matter what it is, there is a certain level of work involved in gaining it. And organization is one of the most crucial skills that I still have not completely mastered. organization and preparation. Things don’t come to those who wait, things come to those who work for them. I can’t tell if it took watching others make friends, or others achieve good grades, or others make and save their money, or others going on service trips, or what. But I do know that I am done sitting on the sidelines, and I am done thinking things are over before they have even started.

I don’t want to be a mess anymore. I want to have nights that when I remember them I can only remember sparkles, but I don’t want to make mistakes, and I don’t want to miss any more opportunities. I want to be responsible for myself and my actions, and I want to know how to handle myself in adult situations. I’m ready to grow up, and I think that’s the most wonderful thing I could ever have learned.