Thursday, June 27, 2013

The Perfect-Feeling


Perfect is not an adjective describing feeling in the title above; perfect is a compound noun with feeling. It’s not the perfect feeling. It’s the perfect-feeling; the feeling of perfect. Not perfection; perfect. If perfect could it felt, it would be this feeling.

Have you felt it before? The perfect-feeling?

I have. And boy is it… perfect.

There is literally no other way to describe the feeling I am talking about; there is no butterflies or rapid heart rates, sweaty palms or random smiles. There is no mind lapses or gitty laughter. There is only the knowledge that at that very moment, everything is perfect. You don’t have to try to be happy or joyful, positive or content. You just are. There is no effort. You are at peace with everything going on in your mind, heart, body, and soul. You are whole.

The feeling doesn’t last longer than a couple of hours, a couple days max. But in those moments, it is… perfect. No other feeling comes close. Not excitement of surprise, laughter until your stomach hurts and eyes tear up, relief of an overwhelming stressor, joy or happiness, not even love. It’s deeper than that, deeper than love. It is every good feeling happening at the exact same moment. It is pure and untainted.

Now that you know the feeling I am talking about-whether you’ve felt it first hand or just get the idea from my description, I want you to honestly ask yourself this question…

Would you want to give that feeling up? Never feel it again (as far as you know)? Let it go; walk away from it?

I wouldn’t, and I don’t want to. Therein lies my struggle. The source of my perfect-feeling isn’t good for me, isn’t what I deserve or ultimately desire, and isn’t going to give me what I need. So by definition, it shouldn’t give me that feeling, should it? But the truth of the matter is, that it does, more than anything or anyone else. But the problem is that it has the potential of becoming toxic. So if I had my best interest in mind, I should give it up, chose to not feel whole, perfect, or effortless again. But, I don’t want to, and I don’t know how to do something I don’t want to do.

Monday, June 24, 2013

I Have A Confession


Ahhh. I have a slight confession >.< you have to promise not to judge me tho. Kay? Promise?

Okay, here it goes… ……………….. o.o 

Okay, okay…

The first and only NBA basketball game I sat and intentionally watched from beginning to end (with a small break to get food) all season was the Championship game (Heat vs. Spurs) last Thursday night D; I know, I know. I’m going to hell. D; 

There’s more… :’(

I have absolutely NO idea what this last season entailed. Who played great this season; who played horrible; which team had the best defense; which team had the worst offense; which team had the best potential but was stifled by the coach; which… anything! I would not be able to carry on an intelligent conversation about this past NBA season with anyone. Key word intelligent. I could still hold my own with any of those posers **cough** bandwagoners, girls trying to impress boys, boys trying to be men **cough**. Yeah, I said it. I wouldn’t tho! What happened to me this last year?! D;

It makes me just as anxious as not writing does. Basketball is my first love and will forever be my first love. Dancing, writing, and music all come in a close second. But basketball… there’s nothing like it. The screeching of Nike’s on the court, the swishing of the net, the bouncing of the ball, even the smell of the jerseys and buzzing of the shot clock. An empty basketball court is a sanctuary for my soul.

Welp, now that that’s out >.<

I need to write. I need to write. I need to write.

I get this strange sense of anxiety when I think about how much time has passed since I’ve let my fingers express my most inner thoughts. Since I’ve gone back to what keeps me alive, sat and took in the beauty around me. My sanctuaries. Empty basketball courts, empty dance rooms, empty stages, and empty sheets of paper.

There seems to be a gap between what I desire and what I want. I want to watch the new episode of Pretty Little Liars. I want to catch up on Dexter. I want to watch the new season of Criminal Minds… I’ll spare you the rest of my embarrassing TV show addictions. I want to online window shop. I want to play a game. I want to browse through pinterest, scroll through Facebook and Instagram (no Twitter for me. I think it’s more idiotic than fb and ig).

I desire to read more, study more, watch more documentaries, follow basketball more, dance more, and most importantly write more. Buuuut… I don’t. I always find myself wasting away the little bit of me-time I have zoning out to a senseless show, website, or game. I rarely spend thirty minutes, let alone a couple hours (like I had promised myself I would start doing) doing any of the things I desire to do.

I could sit here and give this big long philosophically sounding explanation to why I keep doing what I want and not what I desire, but it doesn’t have to be that complicated. I don’t do what I desire because I’m a coward. I’m scared of change, of becoming great, of reaching my potential… there I go with my philosophically sounding explanation. Ha. How ironic. But it’s the truth. I am too much of a coward to do the things I desire and apply myself full-heartedly to any of the things I know will make me the person I should become one day. The reasons are simple, no need for an in-depth look at my subconscious. 

Or maybe they’re not that simple. I know I’m scared, but why? Now that’s a question I can’t answer right now.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Ugh.


It finally happened. The long awaited breakdown that has been looming over my head for the last month and a half has finally decided to send its thunderstorms and torrential rain pour my way. And of course it had to happen at such an inconvenient time, an hour before I have to work. Thank you emotions, thank you.

Have you ever wanted to just start over? New name, new looks, new city, new job, new friends, a new life, a new everything? I have. At least a thousand times. The only thing that has ever stopped me cold dead in my tracks has been the memories of the life I would be leaving behind. I would miss my friends, my city, my life; and that right there is the sole reason that’s been holding me captive to my current life. From packing up my bags and singing “sayonara” as I rush to the closest airport and jump on the next available flight. Seriously. How great would that be? A brand new life. No emotional baggage to lug around, no mistakes to hide away from, no unnecessary carry-on items that really serve no purpose other than to add clutter to an already full plane.

I often wonder if I would ever be able to really do something like that. Realize my life is solely my life and all I have to do is pick up and go. The freedom I would have, the pure bliss of a perfectly me chosen life.

I know, I know... I do have that freedom. My life is my life. But for some reason, I don’t know how to live that way. I still lug around baggage and deal with the nonsense I’ve let my life create that I so easily lose sight of what my life really is all about. And yes, I am currently blind, nose-diving into a self-perpetuated pity fest. Sorry about it. My mind goes at too many miles per second as I sit and ponder my life. I get frustrated, scared, sad, happy, discouraged, inspired, downtrodden all at the exact same time. Which I’m doing at this exact moment as I stare aimlessly into my computer screen trying to formulate a thought that could possibly make enough sense to type into a readable sentence… did that even make sense?

Oh well. I give up. I have to go to work.

Monday, June 10, 2013

In A Rut


I swear I have a midlife crisis at least once a week. What am I doing with my life, what have I changed, what can I fix, what do I need to do better. Literally at least once a week. I could sit here and play the stupid game of wondering why I have these all the time, but I’m not going to.

I know why. Because I’m not changing anything. I’m not fixing my diet; I’m not writing more; I’m not reading more; I’m not applying/researching/educating more; I’m not doing anything more. I am simply getting by. And I hate it. I’m so unhappy with my current situation. Not necessarily because it’s a bad situation but because I’m not doing anything to change it. I can’t really explain to you why I have such a serious lack of motivation, but I do and that in itself needs to change. I’ve tried the whole “today is a new day; let’s start fresh” and then I’m back to doing the same old shit. Ugh, I hate to say it, but I am officially in a rut.

I think I’m scared of change. I want a new job, but I’m scared of what it’ll actually look like. I want a higher education; but I’m scared of the workload and possible relocation. How pathetic am I? I’m so unhappy yet too scared to change my unhappiness. -__- >:|

I just need to do it. There really isn’t any excuse. I’m not too tired, too busy, too overworked, too nothing. I have the time, and I have the energy. I’m just choosing to waste it instead of use it. Hopefully tomorrow will be a new day and I can start fresh and apply my energy to the things that need it. After all, the only way out of a rut is to dig yourself out.