Thursday, May 31, 2007

close, but not quite

I almost got bored, so I decided to write a blog. I wanted to remember what it was like to record and recap. I used to do this obsessively, as in, today I ate: cereal (the kind with more calories) and milk and a banana and a salad with non-fat dressing and an apple and some stir fry with tofu and... I worked out on the elliptical for 45 min and pushed myself hard but I didn't do any sit ups and I missed a double turn en de dans during the second combination but I finished all my homework and I drank enough water. I still have laundry to do tomorrow, and I should call my parents because I spent all my social time for tonight talking to my boyfriend. My goals in life are A) B) and C) and my goals for this semester are a) b) and c) and my goals for this month are a) b) and c), so that makes my goals for tomorrow X) Y) and Z).

And then I stopped doing that, because...

Loosing track can be a way to find yourself.

Where am I now?

Unknowingly somehow I have a position, something I thought of but in the not-possible sense. And somehow that position entitles me to tell people to do things and to calm them down when they are worried and make them worry when they have not been prudent. And often I make mistakes. But I hope I am learning.

Somehow and knowingly I am not where I thought I would be, and not where I want to be, but maybe understanding while still denying what I need to do to move on. (move past, move up, go forward, press onwards, develop, expand, sheer away, pare down, crystallize, and flower.)

Indisputably there is more I could be doing. Indisputably I am doing a lot. Indisputably I am hardest on myself, and not as hard as I'd like to be.

Sometimes I'd like to be tucked away in a place where I wouldn't have to think, where I could go back to having someone take care of me. Othertimes I'd like to go to a place where I am all by myself with no responsibilities to caretakers or others. Most-times I realize that the people around me are essential to how I construct myself, and that I will not go from a) to b) or elsewhere without them.

Thank you to those.

Hello world.

Once I wrote a computer program that made the screen say, "Hello world." Once I played soccer, once I played the piano, once I played the guitar, then the flute. I was good at math, understood science, and passed all the tests, but I forgot it all the next day. Once I thought I'd be a webdesigner, once I thought I'd be a photographer, on the photojournalist side, or maybe just audition portraits. Once I thought I'd write. (More than once.) More than once I've also thought that I don't want to do anything for money that mattered to me because, once someone gives me money for it, they have influence over what I produce, and then it is no longer child of my own creation.

Maybe I want to create.

But I don't know in what.

Other than in this fashion: asdkfjlsafjawoeifjslkdfjsdla l sfjoawi jfl fsof wl k lkfjowe klsj dia o lsdkfj awoie kdlf bie leio cmsaofjem skfh8en ksjfdklaew dkf dkjwef di03 sjkos;fn ode so ef li fa sf0 ska; viwf .. sadfoijw .saf.


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