Story of my life.

I'm not too sure... about ...
anything.
Anymore?
Again?
Always?

Story of my life right?? Never sure, nothing EVER for certain, nothing ever comfortable for long. I hate it, but its typical... story of my life. While that seems to be my newest catch-phrase, it makes me seriously consider the story of my life.
This is way too intense of a topic for my mindset right now, but to chip away briefly:
The point of life is the story of life. All I want is to write my story, to play it out in front of myself in a beautifully written novel, broken down by chapters of my life that build up like any good story does, begging the reader to turn page after page, desperate to know the ending.
I am the writer.
But I am also the reader.
I am the desperate one. I am the one who NEEDS to know. I'm the one who wants to flip to the final page in my own story to find out if there's a happily-ever-after waiting for me or not. I need to know that there's something worth living for... something worth going through all this "growing up" crap for... I want to know if any of it's real... or if it really is all just a story... and if everyone else is content in their real lives because... what? they have lower standards than me... or maybe they just don't expect to be the lead in a bestselling book.... I don't know. And that kills me. I know that this is the whole point of the book... these are the building chapters... blah blah blah. But honestly, as the writer, I should be able to dictate the ending... and I can't.
I feel like all of it is not in my control... I feel like part of my ending has already been established by the acts of the first 20 years of my existence.
But I'm not sure- story of my life.

Nothing is concrete.

I have been trying, of late, to find the beauty in that; the opportunities that this simple statement harbors. Nothing is concrete, yet somethings are forever. But there is change. There must be change.

There are a few things of which I am certain:
Change is imminent.
I am a distinct brand of crazy.
There are a select few people in my life that will be constants, not concrete, but constants, changing with me, albeit inevitably in different ways, for the rest of time.
Most things are not that serious.
Ambiguity is essential.

I am uncertain about the rest. I don't know about love, I don't know about friendship, I don't know about social aspects of life. I don't know if there's a point, I don't know about trust, I don't know about education, I don't know who makes the rules, I don't know who "they" are, or how they got so powerful. I don't know why power dominates the world, I don't know anything about people, I don't know about music or art or athletes. I don't know about religion or saints or gods. I don't know anything about this world except that it exists... which is an ambiguous enough statement to mean a variety of things.
I don't know about words, I don't know about feelings or meaning or expression. I don't know about excuses or lies or the human brain. I don't know anything about anything.

But I know enough. I know enough to know that there HAS to be a reason. Some kind of love must exist. Maybe I've wasted my heart, maybe I really have outsmarted fate and thereby fucked myself over... maybe.

I'm not too sure about my future- given.
But I'm not even too sure about my past.
I don't know too much about the present either.

I'm not too sure I want a tattoo, I'm not too sure I want to go abroad, I'm not too sure I'm gonna be okay, I'm not too sure that my friends will be here when I get back... no not so much that... I'm not too sure we're going to click like we do now. I'm not too sure I'll find what I'm looking for and I don't know if I'll actually grow and change like I want to. I'm not sure if I'll ever grow up enough to grow out of this selfishness and give myself to anyone... unpack that sentence if you dare.

I know that no one is sure, and again, that's the point... but I need stability. I need a sign. I need to know that somehow this is right.
Because in this moment, I want to throw up... and cry... and I feel like I can't.... anything. Function, breathe, sleep, move, exist without people holding me up.
I don't want to be this way. It's time to break these dependencies, I know that, hell, I CHOSE this. I am willingly subjecting myself to banishment from Neverland... I am forcing myself to take a step toward growing up...

20 is too young to give up. Give up hope, give up on life, love, happiness, my dreams. But there must be a balance. Finding a happy medium between living in the harsh realities of the real world and not letting go of childhood spirit and dreams must be possible... although I've never truly seen it done.... I've also never watched anyone but me grow up.

This is scattered and complicated and out of nowhere...

I'm not panicking... I'm not trying to back out... I'm just trying to understand what I feel and get some sort of grasp on why I felt so urgently the need to do these things and live this life a few months ago... when now, all I want to do is stay.

Side-note: Songs that have people begging other people to stay always get me. ...I don't want to have that happen... if they asked me to, I would always stay... my selfishness baffles me.....
But as of now it also defines me... God, in soo many ways. Name it and I could turn it back to me and my own interests, life, etc. Sometimes it's too much. Sometimes I need a break from me.

Heart of the Matter- I'm scared to go because what happens if I fail???
There is no one but me. There is no answer but me. And there is nothing but my selfishness rearing its ugly head and turning its back on me. This one's on me. This one is because of me. This one is all about me. And I am so afraid of that and the responsibility that that entails.

It sounds absurd, but it's like it's finally sinking in that this truly is my life and I can do whatever I want with it. While this is empowering and frightening, it's also an odd feeling to feel the need to test out the waters and ease your way into life again after living it for so long already.
It's all up to me. The choices I've made in my life can be counted on one hand... the actual, honest to God calls that I've had to make are few and were carefully thought out and considered and planned. I'm sick of living life safely like that, but at the same time, I can't be reckless in this new found existence that I'm finally realizing is actually my own.
I feel like that's why kids screw up at this point in life. They have no desire to find a balance between this freedom and responsibility of controlling your own life. Your 20s are to experiment and screw up and have one night stands with strangers right? But what if I don't want that? What if I don't know what I want??... oh wait, that's the story of my life also.

Disclaimer: I know I'm crazy.

God, that should be the title of my life... not the point....

So I was just facebook stalking and reading all the status updates and looking at all the pictures of all the awesome things my friends have been doing with their lives and I felt myself, not only feeling left out, but also feeling jealous. I slowly, after years of feeling this way and being almost angry at these friends for doing things without me, experiencing things without me... you know, living without me... haha... anyway, I finally figured out that it isn't that I'm mad or that I don't want my friends to have these fantastic adventures or epic moments, it's just that I wish I could be there. I wish we could do these amazing things together. And while I think it's great that we can live our own lives and have our own moments, I always wish they could be here when I'm having a blast, and I wonder if they feel the same. In the midst of these realizations, I started thinking about England... and I knew that I would miss everyone and I know I'm going to wish they were there with me... but it kinda sunk in a little bit today...
That's how all of England is going to be... it's my great adventure that only I can tell them. And I have to take care to remember to take pictures and tell stories with such intensity that they can feel some shred of how I felt when I was there. I want this to be my own adventure, yes, but it sucks that my best friends won't see it with me.
Which leads me to other idea... I seriously think there needs to be an epic week of adventure. Whether it's camping and hiking and jumping off rocks, or surfing and going to bars at night in some classic beach town... we need to start making memories together. Big memories. Memorable memories. There is still no other people I'd rather spend my time with and build my life around... it's time for a big adventure together. You know, besides this whole life thing...

"It's too late to keep from going crazy, I've got to get away" -Tim McGraw

Reading, finishing, and now finally processing The Time Traveler's Wife has transformed my way of thinking... at least for now. I'm thinking about having one person be such an anchor in your life and having to leave them anyway, even though they're the only stable thing in your existence. That leads to me think about why we leave at all. Why do we run? From bad, it's easier to understand: hope for a new beginning, hoping to forget. But leaving when things are good, leaving because you can, because it's a choice, a selfish choice... why does anyone do it? Why do we willingly subject ourselves to missing someone? We know it's coming, we know that goodbye is coming, we know it's gonna hurt, and we know that someone will cry, but we want it, we selfish beings welcome it. Maybe it's comforting to go away from what you have, knowing how great it will be to come back to. Maybe it's a truly selfish move, wanting the people you care about to miss you. Or maybe it's something else, something more. Maybe there's a reason we feel the need to get out, to leave, to experience. Maybe it's not leaving them, but finding you that is essential. Maybe that's why I'm leaving.
When I say maybe... I mean it is. I am leaving on a selfish quest to somehow find myself where I've never been. Seems counter intuitive to this, self-critical, self that controls my thoughts at the moment, but it still doesn't feel wrong. I have to go... that has been my constant. I need to leave. I need to be as physically lost and unaware of my surroundings as I am on the inside. Perhaps I will find some kind of harmony or solace in this lost-ness... or perhaps I will find something else, something more permanent. Maybe I'll find me. Or some version of myself that I like, some part of me that's been missing that I can bring back like a souvenir.

You are every reason.
Every reason in my life.
You are the reason I'm leaving,
You are the reason I want to stay.
You are what I fear losing.
You are what I fear finding.
You're the reason I go to sleep thinking that tomorrow has the potential to be glorious.
You're the reason I get up when the morning is not.
You are every moment.
You are every breath.
You are the reason I'm not satisfied with what I have.
You are the reason I have to go.
You are my past.
You are my future.
You are me.
And I am you.


Leaving isn't always running away is it? No, it can't be. Leaving is taking the next step and creating a future, a real life. Leaving is how you get to the places you need to be so you can bring back pieces of yourself and of sanity and create a home. For so long I've been homeless. How long will it be until my heart feels like it's home again?? Maybe it never will. Maybe you only have that innocence once, maybe you only have one shot at having your whole heart feel anything. Because once it breaks, it never goes together quite the same... though efforts from glue and tape and more conventional things like hugs, friends and ice cream seem to mend it for a while, it is always more prone to breaking once it has that first crack. The first cut may not always be the deepest, but it leaves the most devastating scar.

Why am I leaving?
It made me laugh when my family warned me not to go abroad and fall in love. I am in no way looking for love. I am far too young to be as jaded as I already am. I will not search for love again until I'm sure I could handle it if, God willing, I could actually find something resembling the crazy, idealized version of love I have created in my head. But no, the point of England is not to fall in love with some marvelously accented British boy, but if it is love I find, or seek, I pray that it is love within myself, renewed love for words, love for the countryside, or for warm beer. Romance has it's place, dear God, let romance have it's place in my life, but I am not looking for soulmates. Soulmates in any sense. But then again, I wasn't looking before.
The point: I am not going to fall in love. I am going to experience life. I am just looking for some fun. Some carefree, no one here knows me and no one back home will know anything but what I choose to tell them fun. Lord knows my life will not suddenly turn scandalous unless travelling across the Atlantic erases morals like an etch-a-sketch or something crazy like that. No, I won't be out of control, but as of now, I am choosing to let go of all control. The primary goal is to let go and to not care... as much as I don't care about things here, I want to be able to let go of the things that do eat me up. I want the freedom of not being responsible to anyone else's image of me, or even my own image of myself. I am going to be like Peter Pan... bear with me on this, it may be a bit of a stretch (everyone is going to Disneyland and I want to be there!)... when Peter finds his shadow and tries to glue it back on... I feel like I'm Peter and I'm looking for that other aspect of myself, when I find it, I'll have to try to glue us together and form some kind of a person, some kind of balanced person.
I guess that's what I'm looking for... balance. But balance within myself.

Haha. Let's be honest, I don't know what I'm looking for.

"Someday I'm gonna find it, wish I knew what I was looking for, inside the disarray." -Lifehouse. Word.

Shortttt

I just woke up, it's 11:11... usually I'd say make a wish. What do I wish for today? In light of waking up with nothing to do, and apparently that making me feel a little lonely and emo, I think I'd wish for no more disappointment. I'm tired of getting my hopes up, but here comes the difficult part: you can't live without hope. You have to get excited about things, you have to look forward to things, you have to put yourself, heart & soul, out there, you have to care. So while my urge to not care about anything and "live" life as a hermit is not nearly as strong as it has been in the past, I still hate the sting.

Write it out.

Do you know what it feels like to break a heart?
Have you ever heard one break?
When you don’t mean to, and all you’re trying to do is explain…
But all they hear is the shattering of their oh so fragile heart;
All they can hear is it break.
And you have to sit there... Watching it all.
You've said enough to know there's nothing else you can say.

Do you know what it feels like to watch the light go out of someone's eyes?
To see them lose their hope as they mumble something about goodbye...
And as their moments-ago best friend, you just want to hold them as they cry.
But you can't because you caused this, so you leave, eyes pathetically dry.

How low can you sink while feeling no regret?
This is when you find out.
You replay memories, moments you'll never forget.
But the smiles are gone. And you forgot what they were even about.
It didn't matter then.
But nothing really did,
Until there was nothing,
And that became the problem...

Have you ever watched a fire burn out?
Cause this one is long dead...
No more wondering, no more doubt,
We are now exactly where we expected to be led.

One of us "heartbroken",
One no longer living blind,
One of us waiting for the other to change our mind,
One ready and willing to leave the past behind...

Can't believe I'm doing this...

Honestly can't believe I'm starting a blog... but at this point, I'm so washed of emotion and understanding of anything in the world, I don't think it's valid for me to have any concrete opinons about anything until I try them.

That being said... I don't know who this is for, I don't know what I'm going to write/post/whatever here, and I don't know how long it's going to last... but then again, how long is anything going to last?
How long is a moment? ...well that one I've answered.... How long is forever? Can we define it? Do we want to? Is there really a truth about forever? Cuz I've read that book and I don't remember finding an answer... would they tell us if they found one?
We define our lives by success. We strive for things, for words that we can't even define for ourselves, but we want these things anyway. We go out looking for love and success and happiness when in reality, we truly can't define them, so even if we obtained them, we'd be too blind to recognize we finally have what we think we think we want.

Too heavy for a first blog? I don't know... On my mind, on the computer... story of my life.

Until I find something else to think about I guess...