Life is not a sparkly bubble

No, it is not. Life is rather weird and it becomes even weirder and more difficult and complicated and weird and difficult when you have the incredibly destructive habit of overthinking it. Like I do.

Today officially was the third day of school. And against my expectations of failed human communication, I still felt fine around people. Damn it, I am truly exaggerating right now. I just.. I figure I have this interior defensive mechanism that somehow allows me to be ok and feel kind of fine, some sort of thing that makes me stand straighter, speak more coherently, look people in the eye, keep my chin up and my steps and breaths even. Some sort of thing that doesn’t allow me to think too much when feeling like I have something funny to say, that does leave me to being, to laughing too loudly and talking too much, to being proud. The problem is, there usually comes the time after that, when I get home, my feet sore from walking, my hair a mess and my hands stained with ink, when it all comes back to me. All the laughing and the jokes – that seem freaking stupid, all the walking straightly and the attitude that I could have kept for another time. For it is not totally real, but rather something that I could have been, I suppose. The problem is, there comes the time when all that put up confidence returns and feels like salt on burnt skin. Because damn, I’m vulnerable in front of myself. Because the moment I feel fine , something black and shiny and uncomfortable catches my eye and becomes bigger and bigger against the law of physics.

Maybe that’s why I despise school so much. I don’t know, but I’m really frustrated at this particular moment, because I’ve started transforming this into a cliche thing and I really feel like avoiding that.

A smarter affirmation would be, tho, that I’ve noticed that the 21 hours I’ve been in school since Monday have killed all the creativity and replaced it with frustration. And I don’t want to fall in the same pattern of hatred and self sufficiency and lack of self control and desperation and limitations that left me numb and indifferent and then sad. I think I’ve simply decided that the time has come to make the most out of what I have. But , in order to achieve that, I first need some joy and some harmonious days and some good books and cold weather and some silence and a good night’s sleep and harmony with myself again. And I need to work hard and stop wasting my time and work hard a little bit more.

I just hope I can pull it off, this harmonious autumnal life.

Because, you know, life is not a sparkly bubble of soap.


I forgot how school is done

Summer has passed incredibly… not necessarily fast, but rather unexpectedly motionless.

As if my life got frozen on the 19th of June and now, three months and a rather impressive amount of time spent in a bed later, I’m going to return to a place that I don’t find very beautiful – highschool.

It is ugly, even in perspective, that I have to return so soon to a place of relative torment, but it doesn’t make it any less exciting. In perspective.

The fact is , I know that, in 8 hours, I’m going to walk with my chin up straight into the school yard, shrugging when the occasional person tries to say “hi”. I’ll probably seem happy, and I’ll partially be happy. And I’ll smile and think of endless possibilities and feel like a princess, because, in the weirdest way existing, school is probably one of the few places where I feel sort of free. Sort of appreciated and sort of well, at least in theory, because school is the only thing I am good at.

I mean, yeah, I love reading to the moon and back. I love talking to people (sometimes) and I hate the fact that, usually I have nobody to talk to the way I’d like to (the main drama of my life, because, believe it or not, I have such a wonderful life and I;m still here begging for a little attention from myself – or rather trying to talk in a sane way –  monologues about how afraid you are aren’t the best way to assure society that you are perfectly healthy).

Moving on and actually going back to how school is the only thing I know to be good at – don’t judge me too hard, please, just don’t do it, even if I am lame. So lame. But really, I’ll probably spend my miserable life teaching somewhere if the grand plan of escaping this corner of the world fails. God, please, don’t let that happen. Just let me open my arms at full length and fly away from here, the way paper planes do. Please.

Anyway, after months of being a painfully  successful hobbit, I am afraid, deep inside my chest, that I forgot how it all gets done at school. I desperately tried to recall the easiness with which I would walk down the hall and greet teachers and friends alike and I couldn’t. And that scares me – this lack of routine- the fact that I can’t remember, step by step, how things are done, even the small ones, like raising my hand of slightly bowing my head or ordering a cup of latte macchiato at the sort of cafeteria we have in our highschool.

This apparently lost ability to communicate within a society.

God, I’m talking as if I’ve lived with the wolves for the past century. I guess it would have been nice.

All in all, school starts tomorrow and I’m terribly excited. High hopes again, formed against my will , promises of the disappointment that is to come. Not yet, tho, not yet.

I am also excited because of this slight amnesia of mine – the way I forgot all of those little steps I used to trace my life around. Maybe it will turn out better, because I forgot how it’s done and I have to discover it all over again.

Or maybe, just maybe, I fail remarkably at life but have a very good spirit when it comes to overthinking my failuresque way of being.

Hope I’ll keep my promises to myself and write here more often throughout this year.

See you soon.