In these moments, I realize the most that I am one of the least skilled people that I know. I have such a desire clinging to my insides dying to be able to let go, to express every feeling that ever haunts me, but I do not have a functioning outlet. My every piece of art looks like a two year old’s work, and most of the time doesn’t satisfy my desperate needs. I can’t really speak well, and my writing is mediocre at best. Believe me, this is not a critique meant to spew hatred against myself; this is my cry for a solution to my unresolved expression issues. Why can’t I produce satisfactory poetry or something that frees my innards? I’m not sure! I’m actually not even entirely sure what form of expression I’m meant to use.
Either way…I’m having trouble right now because I’m having feelings…I know, right? No…it’s not just angsty feels. I am having feelings that none of my senses (even working on overdrive) can tell me anything about. My first year of college is ending in a week. Literally, I’m sitting here at my 5-11 library job and I cannot even conceive what is going on. It’s the whole “time is going fast” nostalgia yanking at my heart…laced with some other terrible feeling drug that I have not experienced yet.
I am somehow looking at my life from the outside of myself without being able to say or do anything about it. As I’m sure you all know, that feeling can make one inner-screamingly helpless. Has anyone else been at this stage in their life? I need a good explanation and a good explainer. Why does my heart feel like something disconnected from my head? And why does my life seem pointless, but yet the most important thing in the world at the same time? Why don’t A’s satisfy anymore? Why do I consider a fictional character more important than myself depending on the day? Why do I question all this crap? Is this normal? Or is this just silliness coming from a silly person? Because…that I am. Someone explain. I don’t even need some stuffy learned Doctor…I just need someone who has felt this too. So I know this is a normal human feeling. So I know that I am not some ghost flying about with no one to notice me, and not the brain to actually comprehend that I’m invisible. If I were that ghost…I think I would prefer being told that I do not exist so I can stop making a fool of myself and wasting time.