☼ Find Me, Fix Me

when happiness doesn't work...

...

I did better on the EOC than I had thought. I thought I bombed the essay-writing portion. Because I literally (figuratively - ha, what a concept, literally figuratively) just threw a bomb onto the sheet of paper and just waited to see what happens. No planning whatsoever. I think we had to write about a day in which a historical figure came to the present and what we would do with them. Something like that. I could've worded it better though. Anyways, I got 248.

The more I think about it, the more I want to just lie aimlessly, perhaps in a meadow or grassy field of some sort, and chase cars around my head. It would be all I'd ever want to do in life. Goodness, I think I'm going crazy. Or stupid. Or both. I'm becoming somewhat like Holden Caulfield. Being a catcher in a field of rye doesn't seem too bad. Seriously. Soon I'm going to find myself finding everything depressing and calling everyone a phony. Hey look at that random teacher over there, what a phony he/she is, (insert random reason to believe so). Not too bad a person, I suppose, but a phony. Phony as hell. Phony phony phony. And hey, look at those fat librarians over there, how depressing. Those fat librarians depress the hell out of me. So much so that I could jump out of a window, defenestrate myself. Those fat librarians don't really even do much the whole day but they just sit there, hoping to be of some use. How freaking depressing. Yeah...

I hope you know that I was being sarcastic. And now, I feel a bit cynical.

This post doesn't have much to do with anything. Just something random. And strange. Like me.

...

I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. I think that it would hurt too much. You'd have to stick pins in it to keep it pinned onto your sleeve. Because otherwise, it'd just drop onto the floor. And nobody wants that. It also makes you more vulnerable. People can see it, and they can see all of the veins and arteries attached to it. They can see your source of survival, the reason why you're still living. And people can break it. Some people are braver than others (me), though, and choose to take that risk.

I don't even know why I'm saying all this nonsense. If you're confused, I don't blame you. I think some things I'm purposely, albeit maybe unconsciously, making difficult to understand. Or altogether not possible to be understood.

You know what? I still have the feeling that I don't belong to the present. Perhaps I live in the past. Perhaps I live in the very far, distant future. Or not so distant, depending on how long God wants me to live. How long a life he has planned for me.

Chasing cars...chasing cars...oh if only all there is to life is chasing cars...

If there were ever to be a contest for obscurity, I would probably win it.

People are like snowflakes. Unique for but a few seconds until they fall and melt away, its intricate and complex pattern and uniqueness forever forgotten.