((A jumble of thoughts from a messy mind))
This week I’m posting something a bit less structured than normal again ((I did something similar back in September that you can read here)). This essay is a stream of consciousness with a mix of my ideas and topics I have been considering so far this week. Let me know in the comments what you think!!
I enjoy thinking about how so many different people are living their own self-contained lives. Especially thinking about compartmentalizing those different stories into little boxes like apartments or towering buildings with rooms stacked to the sky. Multitudes of tiny vignettes all overlapping: and if you were to piece together all of the characters you’d wind up with the population of the world. Funny to think about myself as a secondary character in somebody else’s life. The girl who rang up their sale at Art N Soul. Or the girl in front of them in line at Urban Outfitters...rather than knowing her just seeing her. As the girl with the kaleidoscope green eyes and beach curled hair. That may be what she is but it’s not who she is. She’s a contradiction. She is as clueless as she is wise. She’s afraid to die and she’s afraid to actually live. She longs for the days where altruism came naturally to her but she’s so much happier doing exactly what she wants when she wants with no regard for others. She knows everything and nothing and she acts on her impulses due to a logical curiosity. She feels as light as a feather and longs to just sway freely with the wind like the wildflower she is at heart. And yet she simultaneously is an anchor but one that doesn’t quite tether. She fears disappointing others but she does again and again. She never had an opportunity to be reckless until now and she’s content...even if nobody else is. She feels like she can’t be the person she was in her earlier youth even if some people need her to be. There’s so much she doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to understand. She has so much love in her golden heart but she is capricious and knows she broke the person she loves the most one too many times. She goes days where she feels like her people are what make her world hers and she also knows that simply ((or complexly)) she is what makes her world hers. Her priorities and her morals are muddled. She’s a hopeful romantic who falls in love too easily: with people, places, and especially concepts which she spends so much time daydreaming about she’s often too shocked or stressed to enjoy when they work out. Wishing on dandelions, writing at cafes, and cruising down the coast brings her so much happiness. She prefers her life to move quicker than her racing, twirling, swirling mind. She desires chances to be silly, young, and irreverently free.
She said to him: “Well I don’t know if anyone is truly their own person. We think we’re autonomous but I don’t know about that. You’re not really “you” without exterior influences. You can’t actually exist as the person you are at your core without the elements which exist outside of yourself and shape you. So maybe nobody is their own person but just a culmination of all the things, people, and experiences that shape their identity. You’re just stardust and water.” To which he replied: “Yeah I like when you express what’s in your head.”
And I think about the person I am and the person I want to be and sometimes I feel like I’m playing a role and it’s me but it’s just a bit of a detour and I just don’t belong to anyone or anything.
I’ve been here all along and sometimes it feels like you just showed up.
Rad revelations on love, life, and being a human:
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