Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Warning: Confusion and Vagueness Ahead

I'm having one of those days where I feel tired and world weary. Like life is the never ending push and pull of ocean and I'm slowly being broken down into tiny grains of sand. No matter how hard I try to keep everything together I find myself losing the pieces that matter most. Like the hope for a better tomorrow.

This is something I've learned about myself in the last few weeks: I put far too much hope in the future. While I think most people need a little more confidence that things will work out the way they need to, I need a little less. I tend to think I can force the universe to give me what I want out of the sheer power of my will. It's like I dare things not to work out even when circumstance proves time and time again that gods do not answer letters.
quixotic [kwɪkˈsɒtɪk]
adj.
1. preoccupied with an unrealistically optimistic or chivalrous approach to life; impractically idealistic
As I try to put myself out there, I'm left with the realization that most people are not like me. For one, they care a lot less. Even though I know it'd be easier if I didn't, I care deeply about almost everything. (In fact, this is why I'm so opinionated.) I'm too quick to give meaning to small gestures and excuse thoughtless words. But even knowing I give people too much credit, I can't seem to stop myself. So once again I find myself in a situation where I care more than I should and can't quite understand how I could be so wrong about everything. How in the face of indifference I can still believe the future holds meaning.
indifference [ɪnˈdɪfrəns -fərəns]
n.
1. the fact or state of being indifferent; lack of care or concern
2. lack of quality; mediocrity
3. lack of importance; insignificance
So what do you do when you take a chance and you fall flat on your face? Do you get up and try again? Do you give up and wait for the world to see you on your knees? Part of me is terribly rational. It has justifications and reasons why things are better left alone. Why it makes sense to put up a wall of carefully constructed apathy. That maybe it really was all in my head and I somehow convinced myself of something that seems so obviously untrue in the light of day. Maybe I can pretend not to care until I truly don't anymore.
apathy [ˈæpəθɪ]
n.
1. lack of interest or concern, especially regarding matters of general importance or appeal
2. absence of emotion
But the other part of me dreams of something different. For the chance to make something else. Something potentially wonderful. (Don't you hate those moments when your thoughts scream out for two different things?) But then I'm right back where I started, wondering if things are real or whether I'm just living in a bubble of my own imagination. Its like life is forcing me to relive the same cycle of self-doubt and uncertainty I experienced with Ryan until I get it right. Even if I'm not crazy and I was right to take a chance, I refuse to reward ambivalence with affection. I'm tired of reaching out to people who won't reach back.
ambivalence [æmˈbɪvələns]
n.
1. The coexistence of opposing attitudes or feelings, such as love and hate, toward a person, object, or idea
2. Uncertainty or indecisiveness as to which course to follow
And yet, I still hold on to the hope that everything can turn itself around before it's too late. I feel like I'm just waiting for a sign. For even the tiniest gesture and I hate myself for it. God I'm a mess.

I shouldn't even post this, but I'll at least wait till Tiffany gets the chance to read it (hey girl!). I'm closing the comments. Sorry for the vagueness and any confusion.

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