All the futures I could have

There have been a lot of things on my mind lately.

The thoughts are wide and varied. When I try to put them down on paper, it often comes out all jumbled because there really is too much to think of. I'm at such a weird place in my life. Everything is in flux. I'm not really in control of much. At least, I don't feel like I am.

What it all boils down to, though, is the future.

And that got me thinking about how many futures I could have had.

Two years ago and a few days back, I started dating for real. Had that relationship not been doomed, I could've seen myself with that person long term. Being in a relationship for two years would've had a tremendous effect on where I am now, physically and mentally.

Four years ago I was looking at colleges. I could have very well decided not to apply to the one I go to now. If I hadn't, I might've ended up in London. I might've gone to school near home. I might've been happier, sadder, lonelier, more hopeful, less enthusiastic, crazier. Who knows, really. But it probably would've been very different.

A year before that, my mom passed away. And while no one had any control over that inevitability, that is yet another thing I think about and wonder 'Well, what if she was still here?'

And that's not even to mention the myriad of other decisions I've made, experiences I've had, troubles I've faced and people I've lost. There have been many. One day can consist of no unexpected happenings...or a lot of them.

While I'm not ready yet to talk about what it is I'm working through at the moment, why I feel the need to "let it all out," as I mentioned in my previous blog, I do feel comfortable in sharing one thing:

I don't feel like I'm in control anymore.

When I arrived at university three years ago, I felt powerful. That's not a word I often use to describe myself - meek and awkward as I am. But with all the opportunities ahead, I felt I could choose to do anything I wanted with my life. Or at least, I could choose to pursue the major I'd already signed up for and then follow through with that career choice the rest of my life.

But in three years I've lost that power. Bit by bit. Experience by experience. The more I know, the more I lose control. And as my dad has told me, not being in control is one of the things that can take the biggest toll on a person. We need to have some volition, some command over our fate, or else we feel lost and meaningless.

When I sat down to write this blog, it was going to be about all the futures I could have had. It was going to discuss the people I've loved who've broken my heart. The things I've imagined for my future that I now know will not come true - some because I don't want them anymore, others because I'm unwanted.

Regardless of what could have been, there is always what could be.

So even though there are things I've lost, people I'll never see again, experiences that I imagined and then had to leave behind... Well, there are infinite things that I haven't even considered that will, in fact, make up the rest of my existence.

That's a mysterious and daunting prospect. And I think part of the reason that I'm so terrified right now is that I'm afraid of the future never living up to expectation.

But what if the expectation is just that the future be unique and unexpected? Then what is there to lose?

I could end up being a journalist like I'd always planned, and maybe I'd love it. Or I could pursue a degree in something else. I could become a famous writer, thinker, creator, director. I could find the love of my life. I could be a mom. Maybe I'll decide I just want to own a bunch of cats or hang out in Central Park like the pigeon lady in Home Alone 2.

Goodness, who knows?

I've been ruminating so hard on what I don't have anymore, what I wanted and what was snatched from my grasp. But time goes on, feelings change, needs change and opportunities arise.

And there are a lot of futures left that remain to be seen.

I just hope I pick the right one. Or I hope it picks me.

How I feel before letting it all out

This is an important day.

I think it was meant to go this way. This day of stressful living started and ended much in the way most days do. But it made some weird moves in the middle, twisted and turned until my body was trapped in an eternal state of unraveling.

So I'm ready to start the next chapter. And tomorrow I'm going to try really hard to do that. I've been looking forward to it for a while now. Without the benefit of companionship that I've had the past two weekends, I'm looking toward days and days of responsibility and hard work. They will be full of tension and I know I'll reach my wit's end.

I've been nearly at the breaking point for a while. The straw broke the camel's back a while ago. I had to let go of stability and open myself up to possibility. But that's not really an option when I'm stuck and I'm waiting for tomorrow, waiting for the next step in a process that seems neverending. There's no end, no solution in sight, but I keep barreling toward it - whatever it is.

As tomorrow begins, I will see how another type of person lives. I've tried for a long time never to be this person. Change scares me, I'm afraid to embrace new experiences because it means putting away a part of my past. Or it feels that way, anyway. And giving away a part of myself to embrace a new person is daunting, but it's beautiful too.

There's tension in my back. I've attributed it to bad posture, to sitting inappropriately as I browse through the infinite web of information on the screen in front of me. But it's more than that. It's like the weight of the world. I am Atlas. I feel too aware of what's going on around me and it overwhelms me with thought. Sometimes sadness, too, but I try to push that feeling away.

This entry is one I'd like to treat as poetry. I know what I'm doing tomorrow. I know what I did today. You don't know, however, or it's likely you don't. And that's okay.

Because what is important to see is that it isn't the activity or the details that make the experience, that incite the change. We choose to be who we are each day, to alter our course or to remain in the place that we've been. What we do is not as important as the decision to do something.

I'm doing something.

I'm letting it all out. I hope I have more hopeful and positive things to say once I've gone through with it.

List-less thoughts

This is an atypical blog. I don't have much time tonight before I should head off to ZZZ Territory/Slumberland/BeddyBye, so I figured I'd just share a few thoughts. In a list. Because I've been working with a lot of lists in my Interactive Storytelling class and because compartmentalizing helps sometimes.

1. I used to despise being thought of as fickle, but I do believe that I am someone who is always looking toward bigger and better things.

This isn't to say I'm always the "grass is greener" sort, but I do love thinking that I'm never stuck in one situation. That if I have hopes and dreams, I can achieve anything.

2. High expectations are my single worst vice.

I am a very intense person. I put a lot of thought into things. Rarely anything gets past me. Sometimes I have to pretend that I don't notice things even when I did. It's just the way I am, and if others find it strange...well, that's life.

3. There is a lot of beauty in the world, but most of us fail to pay attention to it.

Today I was struck by how wonderful it is to live indoors. To have a roof over my head, floor under my feet, a bed to sleep in. This is a luxury that I consider a necessity, and it's beautiful that I've been given a life with such ease and simple joy.

4. People are way too complicated for my liking.

When I think something is predictable, the human race proves me wrong. This is my eternal struggle.

5. I am very self-centered.

But aren't we all? And if we aren't, how honest are we being with ourselves?

6. Escapism is the worst, yet most effective form of catharsis.

When I've forgotten my woes, I feel the most freed from them. Even more than when I actively combat them. There's something to be said about the value of escape in the face of perpetually troubled thoughts...that is, it works.

7. Fun is fundamental.

It is hard for me to understand how people find joy in serious careers, or cerebral and unemotional subject matter. I am all about having fun and feeling enthusiasm for everything I do. I wonder if this is true for most people.

8. There's no reason to lie to someone's face.

If you aren't honest, you're likely to show your true self despite your kind façade. Why even try to pretend you're someone who you're not?

9. Time inspires very contradictory emotions.

It ticks away and stresses us out, but when we have some of it to spare, it has the most relaxing presence of anything in this world. Time is a frenemy to all.

10. Sometimes this all feels too weird to be true.

Who are you all, anyway? As my dad and I have discussed a couple of times recently, it is so strange to think that when you are in a public place, you are surrounded by people who are part of your story, but who have stories of their own. We're all separate, but intertwined.

That's it. I think I'm going to do more of these in the future. It's a bit weird, I guess, but it was the blog I needed right now.

Goodnight.

Where am I?

It has been over a month since I last wrote in this blog, and that feels sort of inappropriate, seeing as how much has gone in just 30-sum days. What makes this period in my life not worth documenting, whereas in the past I've spent hours upon hours writing blogs about the most insignificant topics?

To catch you up, I'm back at college. It is my final quarter on campus and while I do try to remind myself that one day I will look back on these days fondly, it's been hard not to grow tired of university living.

My classes are going exceedingly well, perhaps for the first time in recorded history. While they may all advertise themselves as time-consuming, drop-it-if-you-can't-handle-it sort of courses, I have not yet been dissuaded.

What I have, however, been dissuaded from, is any attempts at civility with my neighbors. With my friends off campus in an apartment and myself still on campus in a dormitory, I'm surrounded by individuals whom I don't know, yet who know each other. It is lonely, despite being enveloped in perpetual sound.

This is a great metaphor for real life, I think. We often enter the outside world and are forced to abandon our bubbles of introspection. There are so many babbling beings walking the Earth, that even with our iPods in ear, our cell phones in hand and our eyes glued to whatever the closest digital screen may be, we're always surrounded by sound.

As someone who is often struck by the dystopic (god do I hate that word, but I'm using it anyway) nature of loud surroundings, I've had to confine myself lately to my room, blasting all sorts of white noises to keep from going insane. If the sound of someone crunching on a potato chip drives me mildly bonkers, then having someone sporadically cackle down the hallway has become my greatest foe.


Which means, at the moment, I'm balancing between good and bad - the sweetness of a few good hours of classtime studying subjects that don't make me want to rip my brains out, and the perversion of a crowded hallway, inundating my room with the raucous noise of disrespectful peers who never seem to do any work.

Goodness, I sound angry.

Well I guess I am.

Because with this being my last quarter as a true college student, I was hoping to finally have the experience I imagined when I was a high schooler. I dreamed of walking around a beautiful nature-filled campus, alone and in silence, peacefully taking in my surroundings and preparing myself to devote time and thought to work.

Instead I feel how I'm sure many do when they are freshmen, starting out in college: surrounded by people who don't seem to take anything seriously, and don't seem to value the tranquility that I covet.

Perhaps I am misjudging, however when it's 2 am on a weeknight and I hear someone blasting gangster rap, I can't help but feel compelled to believe the stereotype in my mind.

This was a disjointed post, probably because it's been so long since I've written on this poor neglected blog of mine. And whether or not anyone chooses to read my nonsensical thoughts, I'm glad I have this here, to rant and to rave, to lament and to enthuse.

So I'm going to try to use it again, less sparingly.

But for now: Bed... Unless my neighbors decide to run down the hallways screaming for the rest of the evening.

Wordless encounter

I've been in the car for many extended periods lately and because of this I've had a lot of time to think about life whilst my hands rest on the steering wheel. The other day I had an idea for a short story. It's slightly derivative, I am aware, and I don't plan on necessarily doing anything with it. But I decided I wanted to share it somewhere.

She saw him at a glance. He drove past her in his flashy, overly blue and noticeably economy-sized car and in that instant she knew there was something. It wasn't something they shared necessarily, but something it was.

You know how in that moment of first noticing a something or a someone you find intriguing? How you almost feel as though you've come to know it inside and out? They say not to judge a book by its cover, but it's impossible not to do just that. You look, you perceive, you assume. We all know what happens when you assume.

Well she assumed. As he drove past her, the car in front of her screeched to a stop. Her senses were lagging, she was consumed in her own foggy daydreams. He had disappeared, though, so what was left of the daydream was slowly dissolving.

But as she began to speed up, there he was again. With a tinted back window, a few cars ahead, moving at a steady pace. He still had no idea. His lane began to slow; he merged in front of her. Her mind raced.

Unsure of how to act, but convinced something needed to be done lest she reluctantly admit defeat, she decided to work with the tools at her fingertips.

Turn on the brights. That's sure to get his attention. She flicked them on and they blinded her for an instant. She tried again, but no reaction other than her own wincing at the sight of the reflected headlights on his practically highlighter blue back bumper. Why isn't he realizing what's going on?

She resigned herself for a moment. This is ridiculous.

She merged out of the lane, now on his right, moving at a slightly faster speed. Then with an effort towards nonchalance, she glanced over past his empty passenger seat, to the driver whom she had set her literal and figurative sights on.

He wasn't oblivious.

He looked back at her, boldly but kindly. He smiled, but only for a moment. After all, the eyes can only flick away from the road for so long before they must return to the task at hand.

She kept at his pace, tried not to seem deliberate. She ignored the obvious question in her head: How do I keep myself from looking deliberate when I'm deliberately moving a steel vehicle down a freeway?

As she spent time conversing with herself in her mind, he managed to move his car behind hers. He flicked his own bright headlights on and off and when she didn't notice, honked his horn.

Startled, she broke, expecting that there was something dangerous to evade. Rather than prevent an accident as was her intention, she managed to cause one of her own.

The girl and the boy in their respective cars stopped traffic. Everyone looked around with bewildered eyes, unsure of what to do as most looky-loos are. It was just a rear-ending, no cause for alarm.

As they pulled over, however, the rubberneckers glued their eyes to the sight, not for the damage or to see the arrival of tow trucks and police cars. Rather to watch the girl and the boy as they stood still, exposed to the elements, at the side of the freeway, staring at each other, not saying a word.

The End