6.13.18 – a smorg borg

this blog is for me. it’s not for you. i’m not producing content for people’s approval. i’m posting raw thoughts of my own. that’s why i tell so few people about this.

it’s funny because before i graduated college i was going to tell almost everyone about this. i was going to send out this email with the link to this blog. and i was going to be like “oh, follow me in my life since we won’t see each other any more and read my stuff” because inside i was like yeah my content is good and i want people to see that i do it and blah blah. but recently i’ve just been so thankful that there is no pressure here. it’s the perfect place. because i want people to read my words (thank you followers) but i want to feel like i can say whatever and in my life i always feel like i have to make things perfect so that people can see how perfect i really am. which is ridiculous. anyways. this is a long way of saying. if you know me personally and you are following this and you are actually reading this rn (because i’ve noticed even when you send the link to people they actually never read anything) thank you for being one of the most important people in my life. and if you are reading this and you don’t know me personally, thank you for providing a space for me to be myself. thank you for your encouraging words and for your attentive eyes.

on to the real stuff …

today. i just got really overwhelmed with the apartment search. and i’ve been really annoyed whenever people ask me to do things. my mom asking me to do the laundry. my brother asking me to read his essay. my dad asking me what i’m doing with my time. it’s not that i don’t want to do it. it’s that my body feels like a ball of masking tape rolling around in the dirt picking up everybody’s waste. i feel like a bowl under a leaky roof trying to catch all the water seeping through. i feel like no one’s priority but everyone’s call for help. it’s hard to tell people you need help when they’re busy asking you for help.

i’m sick of feeling guilty for waking up at 11 am. guilt that i feel from myself and from my parents. because it’s apparently a sin to wake up at 11 am. but then, yes, it is indeed a privilege to wake up at 11 am.

i sometimes hit this place. when i have no idea what i’m doing. it’s this place where time becomes a bubble around me. everything slows down dramatically. and nothing feels exciting anymore. i’ll be in the middle of cleaning my room. and then boom. i’m surrounded by this mess i created and i just don’t have an ounce of desire to finish cleaning. i don’t know why i started cleaning in the first place. i start thinking about how i wish i were doing something i loved. but how i don’t even know what i love.

i’ve been trying to meet with God every day. At first it was going really well. and now it’s just hard. because you can’t have a revelation every single day.

ug ug ug. i’ve just been really sad. something inside of me is really sad. you know how peaches have pits and mangoes have those huge seeds and sometimes grapes have all those tiny seeds that you have to spit out? my sadness feels like that. it’s like when you bite into the fruit it’s juicy and sweet and the happiness dribbles down your arm it’s just so ripe and lovely. and you’re enjoying it and it’s sticky and it’s amazing. it has promise. it’s the result of hard labor. of growth. of cooperation from the soil to the sun to the water to the tree. so much went into this fruit. and so much comes out from it’s flavor. and yet. in the middle of every single one. is this hard. useless. wooden circle thing. this component of the every fruit. that you just wish wasn’t there at all. my sadness sometimes feels like the core of my being and when my energy levels are low it’s like i’m hitting the bare bones of my fruit. and i’m full of sadness again.

idk it’s hard to explain. i’m doing fine. i’m just trying to understand if this is who i am. or if this is something i’m going through as i continue to discover, shape, and become who i am. or maybe who i am supposed to be.