This was the only video I easily found on youtube with the original of this song. It's going on your next mixtape, obviously.
Play it while you read this. It will enhance your reading experience.
*actually, I think everything in my head is speaking tonight. This is basically unedited, just everything in my head out for your reading pleasure. Note: A lot of these things, when I'm in a different mood, I don't believe. Or they don't seem so bleak. What I'm saying is that you don't need to worry about my mental sanity right now. But at night, at the end of a day when it seems that despite being productive, I have done nothing worthwhile, the fear speaks. The worries I have pushed down into my subconscious rise to the surface all muddled and writhing. Actually, that's their greatest power, the fact that they lie just under my conscious reasoning, and have direct access to my moods and the neurotransmitters that change my emotions. Once fully examined and worked through, they have no power. But I have no time, nor energy to deal with them, because they are sapping too much of my time and energy. A classic catch-22.
So often I find myself unable to form thoughts into words. The things that I want to say always sound so flat, so uninspired, so insipid and useless, so empty of all of the force and emotion they carry in my mind. I find myself reading other people's words, and sometimes they help, but so often they don't. And I long for connection with other people, and when I find that, true connection, I never want it to end, even though I'm an introvert. Because true, good connection with people who constitute my good friends, that's as good as or better than alone time. And I spend a lot of time alone. But yeah. One of the reasons I'm so cuddly sometimes, why I desire and appreciate physical touch so much, is that sometimes, people only seem real if I'm touching them. Like I need that tactile sense of their existence. I pour so much of myself into school, because it demands so much. I pour myself into my friends, into their needs. And I keep a little for myself, as a hopefully untouched reserve for those terrible days when nothing goes right and everyone is miserable, and everything is just wrong, wrong, wrong. Some days I go through life, my brain and heart running on almost empty, but I have nothing to fill it with except rest, which is so far away sometimes. Some days I go through life with a vague sense of unease, and I am learning to turn to God with that, to ask him what I'm uneasy about, and then pray about it, and give it to him. But it is so hard sometimes to give those things and people to God. I just want to hold them tight, to keep a mental and emotional grip on them when I cannot physically be with them. But I am learning to give them to God, and keep giving them to God, again and again every minute. I am learning how to live life without using myself up completely, and it mainly means relying on God. I literally could not survive without God. I would go completely insane, like mental breakdown insane, sit in a nice room and draw pretty pictures. We read an article for one of my classes today about a man who cannot remember anything prior to the thought that he is currently thinking, who lives in an eternal now, and who doesn't even realize that he can't remember the past fifteen years of his life. And for a moment, I envied him. He had no stress, because he had no memory. "How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! / The world forgetting, by the world forgot / Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! / Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd. " And yet.
All of this makes it sound like I'm in an almost bad mood, or just depressed, or sad, or something. But I'm not. I actually had a pretty good day today, and have been on the good side of neutral the past few days. It's just that all of this comes into my head some nights. When I am here, and you are there, and it feels like none of my words will ever bridge the gap satisfactorily. All the words I can summon end up being a prayer asking God to be with you.
And I am aware that most of the time, I am worried about nothing. I worry all the time, though I try not to, and so it goes subterranean, deep inside of me it accesses my subconscious, and comes out in funny ways, in my eating and sleeping habits, in my late night rambles that I try not to write or say because they are always full of such fear, and I spend my life battling fear. Fear of being childish, of being unwise, or immature, of not being responsible, of failing in a big way, of not being able to sustain myself, of, I suppose, depending on others too much. I am so afraid, so much of the time. And I am so sick of it. I was talking to one of my friends earlier, and she was talking about how sick and tired she was of all of her issues, those things that she has to fight against every day just to keep functioning. But God didn't call us to a life of just functioning. He called us to a life of living, of abundant living. I get so frustrated sometimes, because I know that I am not living life abundantly. I know that there is more, but it always seems so far away, so out of reach, somewhere I can just glimpse it but never grasp it. And I suppose that if I could grasp it by my own efforts, I would forget about God, so he constantly frustrates my attempts to gain real life by other means than himself. But as I try to access it through him, I run up against my own human frailties. Which is frustrating and annoying and throughly exasperating. I honestly cannot wait to shuck off this frail human body, with its ridiculousness and hormones and the muddiness it gives to my thoughts. The closer I grow to God, the more I see that I am a soul, and I have a body. And my soul wants to be with God, and my body wants food, sleep, immediate gratification, often things that I know that I (my soul) really doesn't want.
Everything is so complicated sometimes, or rather, is so muddled sometimes, so full of non-clarity and deception, so full of muddiness and messiness and so many darn rules and stupid things.
And so often I wish I had the time to sit down and think all of my thoughts through, to follow them to their conclusions instead of losing the half-finished bits in my dreams. I wish I had the time to take to craft my sentences, my vowels and consonants, the flow of the words that I speak, so that they maximized the amount I could communicate to others, especially you. I'm sorry that sometimes I don't take the time. I'm sorry that I'm only human.
And as I finally decide to go to bed, an hour after my bedtime, I will leave you on a more positive note. Happy Pi Day!
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