i did it again, but this time it was late hours at a target, wandering through the aisles searching for a sense of purpose. i wouldn't call it an addiction, but strangely, almost with no conscious thought i found myself doing the same exact thing i did a week earlier. actually, almost anywhere they will sell books, i seem to gravitate towards those sections and scan the same tired titles looking for a gem. it seems to happen systematically, too, as i peek down each aisle until i get to the paperbacks.
i don't know why i keep doing it. perhaps, it's because i'm searching for a story to which i can connect and feel less of myself; if only, then, i wouldn't be so 'me' that is 'me' and just another somebody. you'll laugh, i know it. our society praises us for our uniqueness and individuality so much so that we must conform to this differentiation.
either way, i found the york peppermint patties that i was looking for. why do they sell such huge bags of candy? as if we needed it. i'll admit i was persuaded by the stupid commercial on tv - i wanted that minty taste; i wasn't about to go through hours of trouble to make my own, either. maybe when i'm old. perhaps what's so sad about this whole story, something you wouldn't even know unless i mentioned it, was that i went to target at 8:30pm on a friday night, and in pajama pants and flip flops. what's wrong with this, you might ask? well, nothing. i don't find anything wrong with it. but as a young college student, i'm made to feel as if my life is insignificant for these very reasons.
this is exactly why i don't date. i wouldn't know how to date. i'm clueless and oblivious to all those social cues and signs and innuendo. it's not that i'm dumb and unaware of it. i simply think past it; i don't see a reason for it. i'm an observant person, yet somehow i'm too focused. i pay attention to what i want to pay attention to, as well. but take it from people who think that the way things are done is how everyone else is doing things --- you'll get nowhere.
so, walking through the aisles at target, i fancied the thought of how strange it might be if someone in my position were to meet the man of her dreams in this way. i mean, television perpetuates the idea that you should go to a bar or a book store slash coffee house to meet your other half. it also gives glimpses at how life could be in chance meetings where oops! i ran into your shopping cart, please excuse me, and lets exchange witicisms and funny quips over shaving cream. it never happens.
and for the same reason, every book i encounter is also ruled out. fiction can't cut it anymore; there's only so much a girl can take of the same mishap with different characters. the creativity is in the location and target audience, so where is the literary genius in that? i may as well draw plots and characters out of a hat --- at least that might present some sort of challenge. who reads this stuff? i used to read it. now i've become jaded.
there was one book that caught my attention. it was filled with ways you can wake up happy. for every day, there was a small anecdote, a few instructions, and a daily inspirational quote or mantra. i found it intriguing except for the fact that i find most material like this a bunch of bullshit. it's just a crutch. i'm sure you can argue that this 'crutch' can help someone walk again (oh no i did not just use that metaphor!) but it's baloney. perhaps, some people just aren't as strong-willed as i tend to be, because if i was the 'author' of that 'book,' it'd be a minimalist guide with lots of blank pages for the reader to fill out. because honestly, when i wake up, i don't want to grab this stupid book and read it to make myself feel better. neither do i want to crack it open every time i depended on it's words to help remind me of what i should already know about myself. when i wake up, the first and only thing i want is to be thankful that i'm alive and able to perform service. i don't want to think about me, and i don't want to think about my feelings or how i just want to have an extra hour of sleep.
recently, i've been getting a little too much sleep. i don't like it, i really don't. but when i wake up at my usual early hour, i cringe at the time, and i go back and back to sleep. please don't wake me up. i'm comfortable --- and at least, while i'm in bed and it's 3am in my mind, i want to go back to sleep. is it really that much to ask that the world stopped, or that it went on without my participation? please excuse me from school, from life. just let me heal and i'll jump right back in when i'm done. i just need time. i'm sure that all my facebook friends are tired of me updating my status with the old 'i hate today.' i know i am, but i'm not a good liar.
oh, and i'm not suicidal. it's lines of justification like these that make me want to drill 10" screws through my head and give myself a frontal lobotomy. my references to sleep and life moving on without me is not some sad attempt at a cry for help or my depression. yes, i'm "depressed" but i do not have "depression." what would you do if someone in your life died? what would you do if you just couldn't take it anymore? buy a cupcake? we all take these curve balls differently.
i'd just love it if i could sleep regularly. you know, a 10pm-6:00am schedule. something routine. but here i find myself typing away at 1:46am and i've missed the sleep train by nearly four hours. i can't help it. it's hard to sleep knowing that when i wake up, i'll be miserable and hating the thought of getting up. at least now, i am up, and i won't have to face that disappointment.
i always imagined bliss before sleep as having someone who held me or my hand as we both drifted off. oh gosh, i see how pathetic and needy that sounded after i wrote it. i don't mean a nested or cocoon-like embrace, just the proximity or careless hand placed over me. i wouldn't mind fingers placed gently atop another, though. i don't know what it is about it. in a way, we extinguish our consciousness, our awareness of ourselves (or awareness in general), but still, i'm with you. just like i would go any where with you and i would follow you any place, we are still together even when we sleep. and when i wake up, i see that you're still there, though you may have repositioned yourself and i see nothing but the tufts of your hair, the soft rising and falling from your breaths, i knew you were with me all along. for this, i would give up every extra hour of sleep, every saturday morning sleep-in, every breakfast in bed and all the peace and quiet in the world just for this one very moment --- i would be blessed.
goodnight
either way, i found the york peppermint patties that i was looking for. why do they sell such huge bags of candy? as if we needed it. i'll admit i was persuaded by the stupid commercial on tv - i wanted that minty taste; i wasn't about to go through hours of trouble to make my own, either. maybe when i'm old. perhaps what's so sad about this whole story, something you wouldn't even know unless i mentioned it, was that i went to target at 8:30pm on a friday night, and in pajama pants and flip flops. what's wrong with this, you might ask? well, nothing. i don't find anything wrong with it. but as a young college student, i'm made to feel as if my life is insignificant for these very reasons.
this is exactly why i don't date. i wouldn't know how to date. i'm clueless and oblivious to all those social cues and signs and innuendo. it's not that i'm dumb and unaware of it. i simply think past it; i don't see a reason for it. i'm an observant person, yet somehow i'm too focused. i pay attention to what i want to pay attention to, as well. but take it from people who think that the way things are done is how everyone else is doing things --- you'll get nowhere.
so, walking through the aisles at target, i fancied the thought of how strange it might be if someone in my position were to meet the man of her dreams in this way. i mean, television perpetuates the idea that you should go to a bar or a book store slash coffee house to meet your other half. it also gives glimpses at how life could be in chance meetings where oops! i ran into your shopping cart, please excuse me, and lets exchange witicisms and funny quips over shaving cream. it never happens.
and for the same reason, every book i encounter is also ruled out. fiction can't cut it anymore; there's only so much a girl can take of the same mishap with different characters. the creativity is in the location and target audience, so where is the literary genius in that? i may as well draw plots and characters out of a hat --- at least that might present some sort of challenge. who reads this stuff? i used to read it. now i've become jaded.
there was one book that caught my attention. it was filled with ways you can wake up happy. for every day, there was a small anecdote, a few instructions, and a daily inspirational quote or mantra. i found it intriguing except for the fact that i find most material like this a bunch of bullshit. it's just a crutch. i'm sure you can argue that this 'crutch' can help someone walk again (oh no i did not just use that metaphor!) but it's baloney. perhaps, some people just aren't as strong-willed as i tend to be, because if i was the 'author' of that 'book,' it'd be a minimalist guide with lots of blank pages for the reader to fill out. because honestly, when i wake up, i don't want to grab this stupid book and read it to make myself feel better. neither do i want to crack it open every time i depended on it's words to help remind me of what i should already know about myself. when i wake up, the first and only thing i want is to be thankful that i'm alive and able to perform service. i don't want to think about me, and i don't want to think about my feelings or how i just want to have an extra hour of sleep.
recently, i've been getting a little too much sleep. i don't like it, i really don't. but when i wake up at my usual early hour, i cringe at the time, and i go back and back to sleep. please don't wake me up. i'm comfortable --- and at least, while i'm in bed and it's 3am in my mind, i want to go back to sleep. is it really that much to ask that the world stopped, or that it went on without my participation? please excuse me from school, from life. just let me heal and i'll jump right back in when i'm done. i just need time. i'm sure that all my facebook friends are tired of me updating my status with the old 'i hate today.' i know i am, but i'm not a good liar.
oh, and i'm not suicidal. it's lines of justification like these that make me want to drill 10" screws through my head and give myself a frontal lobotomy. my references to sleep and life moving on without me is not some sad attempt at a cry for help or my depression. yes, i'm "depressed" but i do not have "depression." what would you do if someone in your life died? what would you do if you just couldn't take it anymore? buy a cupcake? we all take these curve balls differently.
i'd just love it if i could sleep regularly. you know, a 10pm-6:00am schedule. something routine. but here i find myself typing away at 1:46am and i've missed the sleep train by nearly four hours. i can't help it. it's hard to sleep knowing that when i wake up, i'll be miserable and hating the thought of getting up. at least now, i am up, and i won't have to face that disappointment.
i always imagined bliss before sleep as having someone who held me or my hand as we both drifted off. oh gosh, i see how pathetic and needy that sounded after i wrote it. i don't mean a nested or cocoon-like embrace, just the proximity or careless hand placed over me. i wouldn't mind fingers placed gently atop another, though. i don't know what it is about it. in a way, we extinguish our consciousness, our awareness of ourselves (or awareness in general), but still, i'm with you. just like i would go any where with you and i would follow you any place, we are still together even when we sleep. and when i wake up, i see that you're still there, though you may have repositioned yourself and i see nothing but the tufts of your hair, the soft rising and falling from your breaths, i knew you were with me all along. for this, i would give up every extra hour of sleep, every saturday morning sleep-in, every breakfast in bed and all the peace and quiet in the world just for this one very moment --- i would be blessed.
goodnight
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