growing up.

I've done it. I've grown up. Job. Good grades. Maybe even that damn internship. Make some connections in a field which I love and drink in like nectar. Enjoy life. Life, which I wonder if I've been living for the past 19 years. No longer an underachiever, a beautiful flower, I'm just like everyone else. There's a chance that this is what I've been craving all along. To be sure, I want happiness in simplicity and normality. Oh, I'll always be a little off. I am me. But, this is me. This is me growing up.

Hi.

Disappointment comes in many forms. But, it's the disappointment of wait that gets me. Yes, I am an impatient person, but I can handle that. I can keep it inside and do what I need to concerning. But, waiting for an answer that you can't provide, that is what's painful. If I want to arrive at a show hours early or watch as my food cooks, that's fine. It's odd, but fine.

I dislike this lack of control. I don't like power. I will never be a leader and I never want to be. It's the reason I don't do drugs or get drunk. If I lose control over myself... that's fear. So, this waiting. The waiting to find out your grades. The waiting to find out if you got the job. All of these types of waiting is filled with a complete lack of control. And, what's worse... I don't know when I'll get this information. I don't know when my grades will definetely go up, but at least I know I did fairly well... so far. I really don't know about the job. I don't know when I'll find out. I don't know if I got it.

This is life. Stress. Pain. Happiness. It's how we deal with these situations that define who we are. I don't know who I am, though.

oh no

Is this... happiness or contentment? Does it matter?

I miss happy and sad. Simplicity in the simplest. When things get complicated with could we and should we instead of why don't we.

Why don't we simply be? Because be just may be too hard for some.

decide. now.

I have decided my wedding song, place, and date before I even know if I want to get married.

I imagine that, often, we make decisions before we know if we want to make these decisons.

Somedays I think that this is my chance. A chance to start a real blog again. Write down... everything. But, I lived it. Why do I need to write it? And my thoughts? I say what I think... most of the time. If you don't keep things to yourself, how do you share yourself with the world?

Being honest can be confused with being mean. I know this, but I can't stop being honest. We're human. We are mean. We are also nice. This is truth.

Sometimes we need to be held. Sometimes we need to be alone.

And sometimes... sometimes.

uh

Oh hey
hey
hey
Is the wind
taking you where you want to go?
Oh dear
my
dear
How goes it in the sky?
Aren't you dying to hear what I know?

[to be continued...]

lookitme

When I was younger, I used to crave attention. I didn't know it. I just got excited really easily. And, if I was excited about something, I thought you'd want to get excited about it, too. I sometimes wonder if that's why I got into acting. I planned this. I planned all of you, staring at me, in this spotlight. See how this whole place is dark except for the spotlight on me? I did that. Now, I wonder what is more histrionic. Me being in this spotlight or me telling you all about how I planned being in this spotlight. So, if you guys could just close your eyes. Seriously, just close your eyes. Right… now. Try not to think about me, though I know you will. Because maybe, just maybe, if nobody here thinks about me or sees me, I can disappear. I can cross dimensions or break the laws of physics. Because if that would happen, I totally don't have to be histrionic anymore. It would be far too cool for me to care about the whole world staring at me. Because, I still don't actually see myself as being histrionic. Not anymore. And, I'm afraid that because I don't see it, I could get worse again. I could try to steal all the air from those closest around me and they'll hate me for it. For the next few seconds I'm going to be quiet and you're going to forget all about me.

[Silence for a few seconds.]

Open your eyes.

Shit.

breathtaking

I honestly believe that if I were to dance until my throat strained for air and my body broke, I would fly.

if i was blind i could see you better

It takes time to understand. This time may be shorter than our ability to count. It may last until we no longer have the capability of understanding.

A series of moments, left for us to be that which we are are able.

Are you happy with your time? Are you happy with your understanding?

Are you that which you are able?

Can you be?

Life can be won. It is a game. We play it moment by moment, winning and losing as time passes us by.

Can you be happy?