Posted 1 year ago
home is wherever i am
it’s late, and i’m still up,… again.
thinking, again. sometimes too much. thinking this time i’ll write instead of think. i’d rather be trapped on a page than inside my own mind. even if the page is a white space on a screen, boxed in by a 1px border. i’m fine with that. i’m fine with a lot of things. i’m fine with too many things. in fact, the only thing that really worries me is that i don’t worry about the things that should worry me. where am i gonna live? what am i gonna do for money? what am i doing with my life? i don’t know. but, i’m not worried.
i feel like the problem is that everyone doesn’t know what they want to do. people can’t pinpoint their passion. i feel as though so many people are brainwashed into doing what they are “supposed” to do, they never have a chance to realize what they want to do. or what they like to do. this is not my problem. i want to do too many things. i enjoy too many things. there are a myriad of things i would be incredibly content doing. but which do i pursue? which do i turn into a career? what’s a career anyway? why can’t you just do all the things you want to do? are we destined to be a part of the great assembly line of life? are we all just clockwork robots? some aren’t. why them? what do they know that i don’t? and when i ask, why is the answer so simple? holy crap, i ask myself a lot of effing questions. maybe i’ll travel. maybe this is one of those “freak out/epiphany” moments because it’s the holidays, or the end of the year, or something else related to time. it’s winter. it’s cold. the cold makes me think. i wonder if i this is common. i did more thinking and writing in the few days it snowed in colorado than i had done in months.
i think i want to travel. except, not travel. more, find myself living in new places. “travelling” is so temporary. i just want to make home wherever i am, not be traveling through, but living where i am. i like to think i don’t take a single day of life for granted. everyday is a gift and i try my best to remember that and give thanks where it is due. i think my new year’s resolution is to worry even less. where am i staying tonight? what’s in this sandwich? who cares? i shouldn’t. it’s not gonna kill me. i’m gonna start eating things i’m allergic to. it’s only a mild allergy. maybe i’ll gain some sort of immunity. maybe i never ate enough of those things to begin with. maybe i should just grow up. why do people say that? grow up. i’m never telling my kids to grow up. i’ve found the same people that tell me to “grow up” will, inevitably, in a moment of nostalgia, tell you to never grow up. i’m gonna stop saying that.
what’s growing up anyway? i feel more grown up than my parents. maybe that’s the most naive/ignorant statement i’ve ever made. maybe it’s truth. if it’s truth, have i grown up? do my parents need to grow up? no one should have to grow up. eff growing up. i just want to grow. grow into someone good. not up. just closer.
why do we have so little time here? and why do so many people not realize that? and why do so many people spend all there time and energy on things that don’t matter? i wonder if i could write an entire blog of just questions and actually make a point? i’ve almost done it. or am i even making a point? i don’t think so. anyway, back to point i was trying to make. people need to be more selfish. and not the people who already are selfish. they’re the wrong kind of selfish. selfish, as in, doing what makes you happy. the movie “The United States of Leland” was referenced in a conversation i was having today. Leland was right. everyone is so unhappy. and why? you’re alive. you’re given the ability and freedom to do anything you want with your short time here. and people are choosing to be unhappy. i’m convinced happiness is a choice. to an extent, outside of a chemical imbalance. Chrysanthemum Song by Amber Rubarth. what i just wrote made me think of that song for whatever reason. download it. you figure it out.
no resolutions. just thoughts. always thinking. never stop thinking. never stop writing. never stop creating. whatever it is. creating is what got us all here in the first place. someone’s stream of consciousness led them to the television or the car or the computer or the abacus or turning papyrus into paper or the concept of gravity.
final thought: we’re born onto this earth. it’s the only place we can go. no where else. just planet earth. the earth is only so big. we’re only here for so long. why wouldn’t you spend the short time you’re here seeing as much of the only place you’re confined to? especially when we’re currently a part of one of the first generations that has ability to travel to more places in less time. i’m gonna live my life in more places.
