Low, low, hellow

Have you ever felt so emotionless that you wonder if you would feel anything after murdering someone? Not actually considered following through, but just having that thought. What is it going to take, to wake me up? I haven't cried in months, not even teared up a little bit. I feel like I don't genuinely care about anything.

Now I know why they tell freshmen to "get involved" - so this doesn't happen. So that you don't fall into a hole where you don't feel anything, the world is up up up above you and there is no sound. There is no sound. And you want connection but simply don't have the energy to make it happen. Depression? Who knows. I get out of bed everyday, if somewhat on the edge of being late. But I still go. Go to class, go eat. Sleep. Class, eat, sleep, repeat.

Where is the passion? Where is the awe and intrigue and jubilation? Tell me where, and I will be indebted forever. Or at least a long time. Maybe.

>> A Larum, Johnny Flynn

I need to try harder.

Seriously.



tooons>> A Rush of Blood to the Head (Coldplay) and Lungs (Florence + the Machine)

Unreal, surreal, even fur'real, whatever. Will not accept without suffixes.

Drinking some Orange-Strawberry-Banana juice. So hsbdgaiurghkjsdt-ing good.

I'm waiting. I feel like I am always waiting. Is my life going to kick-start itself? Am I going to have the sudden revelation that I know exactly what I want to do with my next twenty years? The first twenty were just so fleeting, so simple and structured. I knew what I was doing year to year: School. When that stops...

And I don't want to be one of those perpetual students. Ugh. If this is what is in store for the rest of my time here. No.

But what! I can't just close my eyes and point at what I want, arbitrarily. Am I a fool for wanting more ready-made options? Most of the "adults" I know didn't decide on their current employment when they were twenty, why should I? Then again, should I model my own actions on theirs, if their unpreparedness at my age led them to a mediocre occupation? What to do, what to do.

Can't I just be a kid, like, forever? It's my favorite. That's what I want to be... when I grow up.

See, this is why I can't let go of that dream, maybe the only dream I've ever had. I have that one thing I know I'd like to do. But if I can't get it going now, when I'm young and supposedly without "adult" responsibilities (and adult sensibilities[=oxymoron]), who's to say I can get it going with contracts, deadlines, criticisms? Hell, that's all beyond the first elimination round. And what are the chances I'll make it past that. (No "?" because I don't need a reality check right now, just the ability to pour out my stagnant soul into this internet-box and ask rhetorical questions of blog-ghostland.)

As a wise young eight year old once asked: "Is this real life?"


Sound bites to inspire>>> Scratch My Back (Peter Gabriel) and Songs (Regina Spektor)

UHH

Miss having two rooms. Makes me forget that I have too much stuff. Should get on fixing that, definitely. I don't need half of what I own. Ownership, no; doesn't feel like mine at all. LET GO.

Stuff. stuffstuffstuffstuff

Now that everyone's gone to sleep I want to clean my room. My circadian rhythm is shot. Or probably not, I'm just using crazy-specific-scientific-smart-sounding words to make myself look good to the more ignorant, a fool to those that know. You know.

Literally done nothing but internets and reading today. Still tired. Add to list: start taking vitamins again.

>>Music rec: the XX, XX (so creative... good though)

On Whether a Fresh Start Exists

I have wanted to do the blog thing (again) for quite some time now. My delay had something to do, perhaps, with remembering the last one (xanga) and how very silly it all seemed. But that's a lie; I really liked posting blatherings about my life to not necessarily anyone. It's a small thrill, to send out soul-words to apparently no one. But, maybe someone.

In a bit less than a week I'll be braving whatever weather Maryland has in store for me (cold, rain, wind, sunshine, all possible) to begin what I feel is Round 4 of college. The fourth time I have taken my slow life of home to that place where I can feel the line pulling me up but no, my natural instinct is to resist, pull back. I am miserable without purpose but still lack the drive to take one on, i.e. "higher" education.

Somehow every time I'm on holiday from school I feel the need to justify (to myself) in personal journal entries just why I persist in lazying about the house and accomplishing next to nothing. Not really making dates with friends much, hardly making a dent in my List of Books to Read, opening files of my personal writing and closing them again without adding new material. There's no reason I shouldn't be actively pursuing all of these things - their only enemy most of the time is School, and take that out of the equation, voilà, right?

Ugh.

So I'll sit and tell myself (honestly, who else is listening) that maybe once I do something extraordinary, or something extraordinary happens to me, maybe then life will start and the constant "get on with it" will reach some part of my brain. Hoping it's a productive part.

The only time I feel right these days is losing myself in books or songs... other people's products of genius. It feels good at first, but then self-reflection chastises me for not aiming higher than this stuff, that which gets me going. I want to get Them going, and You too.

The elusive How...

Maybe this time. All the other beginnings weren't right, and this is the One. For sure. Yes. Maybe.

>>Music recs: Mumford & Sons, Sigh No More; The Replacements, Tim