IPOD
RADIO
Ok so I haven't been on here in awhile. Things have been weird for me the past couple months. I don't know if it's some sort of quarter-life crisis, but I'm going to get it off my chest. I don't know who I'm going to offend and at this point, I really just don't care. I just need to write about it. You don't have to read it.
All of my life I have struggled with my identity, including present day. I have never been honest enough with myself to really know who I am. I feel like I'm a doppelganger, hanging around and watching my body go through all of life's motions but never really going through them consciously. I have no identity except the one with which I was born, that I only partially understand. I don't know if this is why I've lived my life thus-far the way I've lived it. I don't know much about myself at all.
I've done so many things in my life that I regret. I've hurt too many people, lied too many times about important things. I've said and done such horrible things to people that I supposedly loved. And made some incredibly innocent people feel bad. Who am I to have done these things? And why can't I take them back? If I could do it all again, I'd fix it all. I'd take all of that pain on myself just to escape the guilt and regret that I feel. But I can't now and it tortures me. I should have done what was right when the situation presented itself. I have spent the past 2 or 3 years of my life trying to put myself back together, trying to make myself into a better person. It's like putting together a puzzle that's made of one solid color, and it will take more than one lifetime, which none of us can afford. No amount of personal retribution can take back the things I regret, but for some reason I can't put them behind me.
I've learned so very much in my life. I went to college. I "succeeded." I made lots of friends with whom I no longer stay in touch. I learned...but for all of the wrong reasons. I learned things because I thought it would make me money, or make me more attractive to a potential significant other. Or it would make me seem way cooler or way more interesting than I am. Why couldn't I have just learned? Maybe then I would remember it. I hardly remember anything sometimes.
I am surrounded by ignorance and inconsideration. Punishment for a life lived dishonestly. I try so hard to be considerate, to help strangers, to educate myself as much as possible so as to not be a burden on any other lives that I encounter. As a result I keep everyone at arm's length. I panic if anyone moves closer. But those people who were once at arms length somehow were caught in a current and have drifted so far away from me. It's almost as if my hands are coated in oil and everything that I grasp at arm's length slips away. I don't try hard enough to keep anything.
I'm tired of giving up.
I feel like I don't fit in anywhere, with anyone. I find it hard to relate with most people. My own family members are strangers to me. I worry worry worry. About what? My hair? Perfect grammar? My tummy, my cellulite, my dry skin? I can't recall the last time I had a logical concern. I guess I worry most about being such a stranger...to everyone. To myself.
Maybe one day I'll wake up to a blank slate. Tabula Rasa. And maybe at that time when faced with a decision to make, it'll be the right one. Maybe one day I'll wake up and it'll all make sense. Everything that's happened up to this point will all have a reason, and I can take that peace I've found and put it in my heart and smile for a little while. Maybe one day. Maybe. Maybe. One day.
All of my life I have struggled with my identity, including present day. I have never been honest enough with myself to really know who I am. I feel like I'm a doppelganger, hanging around and watching my body go through all of life's motions but never really going through them consciously. I have no identity except the one with which I was born, that I only partially understand. I don't know if this is why I've lived my life thus-far the way I've lived it. I don't know much about myself at all.
I've done so many things in my life that I regret. I've hurt too many people, lied too many times about important things. I've said and done such horrible things to people that I supposedly loved. And made some incredibly innocent people feel bad. Who am I to have done these things? And why can't I take them back? If I could do it all again, I'd fix it all. I'd take all of that pain on myself just to escape the guilt and regret that I feel. But I can't now and it tortures me. I should have done what was right when the situation presented itself. I have spent the past 2 or 3 years of my life trying to put myself back together, trying to make myself into a better person. It's like putting together a puzzle that's made of one solid color, and it will take more than one lifetime, which none of us can afford. No amount of personal retribution can take back the things I regret, but for some reason I can't put them behind me.
I've learned so very much in my life. I went to college. I "succeeded." I made lots of friends with whom I no longer stay in touch. I learned...but for all of the wrong reasons. I learned things because I thought it would make me money, or make me more attractive to a potential significant other. Or it would make me seem way cooler or way more interesting than I am. Why couldn't I have just learned? Maybe then I would remember it. I hardly remember anything sometimes.
I am surrounded by ignorance and inconsideration. Punishment for a life lived dishonestly. I try so hard to be considerate, to help strangers, to educate myself as much as possible so as to not be a burden on any other lives that I encounter. As a result I keep everyone at arm's length. I panic if anyone moves closer. But those people who were once at arms length somehow were caught in a current and have drifted so far away from me. It's almost as if my hands are coated in oil and everything that I grasp at arm's length slips away. I don't try hard enough to keep anything.
I'm tired of giving up.
I feel like I don't fit in anywhere, with anyone. I find it hard to relate with most people. My own family members are strangers to me. I worry worry worry. About what? My hair? Perfect grammar? My tummy, my cellulite, my dry skin? I can't recall the last time I had a logical concern. I guess I worry most about being such a stranger...to everyone. To myself.
Maybe one day I'll wake up to a blank slate. Tabula Rasa. And maybe at that time when faced with a decision to make, it'll be the right one. Maybe one day I'll wake up and it'll all make sense. Everything that's happened up to this point will all have a reason, and I can take that peace I've found and put it in my heart and smile for a little while. Maybe one day. Maybe. Maybe. One day.
AUG 27, 2008 10:18 AM
I can really relate to what you're writing. Unfortunately I haven't found a solution to figuring out life yet. I'm happy to share, when I do... maybe you're closer than I am, cause it sounds like you've come to realise your mistakes?
I wonder why you think you could offend people with this. It merely made me think. One thing surprised me, though. In the rare occasions that we wrote more than a few lines to each other, I remember you as a really pleasant person, so maybe you're too hard on yourself, when you say you were being horrible... don't know. Maybe it's a little comfort, that You never gave me a single reason not to like you... so you basically have a blank slate with me... 
loading your activity feed...